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Reviews
Man from Del Rio (1956)
Quinn shines in low-budget indy western
It's interesting to see Anthony Quinn at this stage of his motion picture career. He had already earned an Oscar for VIVA ZAPATA!, and was about to earn another one for LUST FOR LIFE. Both of those performances were in studio 'A' budget productions. And now we see him returning to the low-budget fare he had done a decade earlier, starring in an independently produced black-and-white oater that seems a lot like an extended episode of a popular TV western.
Perhaps Quinn wanted to keep busy, perhaps he liked the script or perhaps he was toying with the idea of doing a weekly western series, and this was to function as the pilot or a test-run. If he had transferred to a regular gig on the small screen, like so many stars his generation were doing in the mid-50s, it would've been lucrative if he was also a producer or co-owner in the venture.
Because this is still a feature film, and because it's an Anthony Quinn picture, it contains a fair amount of artistry and social message statements. Quinn plays a Mexican-American gunfighter who has an old score to settle in his hometown Mesa. He quickly kills an opponent, but gets shot in the skirmish. While his flesh wounds are treated, he meets a sharp-tongued doctor's assistant (Katy Jurado) who has an aversion to gunfighters.
In the next part Quinn has some drinks at the local saloon and meets a gang that has a prank in mind. Soon the gang has strung up a weak sheriff (Douglas Spencer) out on main street, and are using him for target practice. It's one of the film's more memorable scenes, especially when Jurado tries to intervene and is nearly assaulted. This causes Quinn to whip out his gun and start shooting. He makes mincemeat of the men, but Jurado is still not keen on him.
After the big scene on the street, Quinn is approached by the bar owner (Peter Whitney) to become Mesa's new sheriff. The bar owner would like to build up the town, and in order to do so, there needs to be real law and order. Quinn ends up accepting the job. He has nothing else to go on to, and he'd like an excuse to stick around for a chance at romance with Jurado, though that won't be very easy.
The scenes between Quinn and Jurado remind me of the scenes that Quinn had with Anna Magnani in the following year's melodrama WILD IS THE WIND; and scenes he had with Maureen O'Hara in 1991's ONLY THE LONELY. Quinn was always great when acting opposite tough-willed women. There is considerable chemistry between Quinn and Jurado, and though the film drags in spots between the various shootings, things still remain interesting during the unusual romantic interplay between the leads.
One thing I especially liked was how Quinn's skill and reputation is called into question when later in the story he suffers a wrist injury. I don't recall seeing that plot twist in a western before. It adds irony since a gunfighter turned sheriff needs to be able to shoot straight without injury impeding his fastness on the draw. Quinn's character tries to hide the injury, swearing the doc (Douglas Fowley) to secrecy; but his next opponent, the bar owner, calls him out on this.
What makes the film work is Quinn's dynamic central performance, and the psychological aspects of a man proving himself. The writing is not overly fussed with Freudian psychology, and Quinn refrains from the typical Method acting extremes he might otherwise have exhibited. It's an admirable production despite its low-budget status, and is a decent way to spend 82 minutes of your time.
The Man Who Reclaimed His Head (1934)
Raw terror with virtuoso emotionalism
THE MAN WHO RECLAIMED HIS HEAD is about a Frenchman named Paul Verin (portrayed by Claude Rains). He starts as a peace-loving writer who inevitably becomes involved in the battles of WWI. He is by his very nature a pacifist, and I suspect in his most innocent phase, represented the idealism and anti-war sentiment espoused by scenarist Jean Bart. Bart's play in three acts and sixteen scenes ran on Broadway during the autumn months of 1932 with Rains in the lead role. Rains was so invested in the story that he persuaded the executives at Universal to purchase the property for him and adapt it to the screen.
As the tale unfolds we learn that Paul Verin had written essays about the importance of remaining neutral. However, he has been duped by a publisher, Henry Dumont (Lionel Atwill), who is in actuality a warmonger unbeknownst to Paul. This seems conveniently ironic but here we get the crux of the drama, and Paul's own inner conflicts escalate when he learns he's been "betrayed" by Dumont. It drives him mad.
A subplot involves Paul's wife Adele- played by Jean Arthur on Broadway and by a blonde Joan Bennett in the film. Adele is an ornamental social climber who pushes Paul to achieve financial success so she can escape poverty. She has a relationship with Dumont which on some level is over emphasized, so we can side with Paul even more and sympathize when he's in the throes of madness. There is considerable hammering home that Paul's been betrayed by Dumont. Plenty of reason for him to exact revenge in a most spectacular fashion.
In critics' circles there is some debate about whether this is a true horror film, though it does have dark tones and atmospheric touches that border on the horrific. The carnage of war carries over into Paul's personal life and builds to a shocking final scene that is hinted at in the beginning. Only Claude Rains can project such pathos on to the audience in such a commanding yet disturbing way. Rains made several different horror-tinged flicks at Universal in the 1930s and 1940s. He is a performer who mixes raw terror with virtuoso emotionalism.
Campane a martello (1949)
She's their patroness and savior
This is a film that elicits a lot of different emotional responses in me. First, it appeals to me because of the historical backdrop, where we see clips of Allied soldiers leaving Italy at the end of WWII to return home. They leave behind the women they loved, and used; as well as the illegitimate children they sired.
Second, the film appeals to me because it's an intelligent yet somewhat cynical look at what happens after a war ends, and how the country left behind and its people must rebuild. But in that rebuilding process there are competing agendas, particularly among the more corrupt elements of society. In this story, there is a crooked mayor and his cronies in a seaside Neapolitan village who try to grab money that doesn't belong to them; and there is a much-loved and revered priest who manipulates political situations to help the poor.
I did like the fact that the priest wasn't totally angelic; he was a human being who made decisions with the idea in mind that the ends justify the means. Mixed into this power struggle between the mayor and the priest, we have the arrival of two women (Gina Lollobrigida and Yvonne Sanson) who have a real claim on the funds that are in dispute. The women are fiercely independent, yet soft and feminine; but we can only imagine what they did in the war with those recently departed soldiers to earn such money.
The story was filmed in two versions simultaneously, the Italian production CAMPANE A MARTELLO (ALARM BELLS) with Lollobrigida and Sanson; and an English facsimile by British producers called CHILDREN OF CHANCE, which stars Patricia Medina and Yvonne Mitchell. Both versions had the same director; and contain the same scenes and the same background players whose lines are dubbed into either Italian or English, depending on which movie you watch. A few of the supporting players were bilingual and perform their parts in both productions with authenticity and ease.
Off screen, Lollobrigida and Sanson, who were each starting their illustrious screen careers in Italian cinema, became close friends. They share a very good camaraderie on camera, and it's fun to watch them. I think they give much earthier portrayals than their counterparts, Medina and Mitchell, do in the other version. However, Medina seems to excel with the poignant aspects of the drama.
One key feature of the drama involves the use of the money to help sustain an orphanage. There is considerable irony that a prostitute (Lollobrigida/Medina) who sent her hard-earned cash to a priest for safekeeping is outfoxed, and ultimately seen as heroic, in giving the orphaned kids a chance in life. There is a point in the narrative when the local people learn how the money was raised and try to expel the prostitute from their village, but then they have a change of heart.
And this is where I must mention the third reason this film appeals to me. There is a sense of history and cynicism, but there is considerable heart. The more poignant attributes of the story are not drowned in excessive sentiment. But it is still quite moving to see the little children on the dock waving goodbye to the kind lady of ill-repute who has been their generous patroness and savior.
Touch of Evil (1958)
Corruption along the border
It starts with a well-known sequence that ends in a spectacular explosion. But this is only the beginning, and before all is said and done, we'll learn a lot more about the criminal and political aspects of competing cultures along the U. S.-Mexican border. Since this is a motion picture by Orson Welles, the emphasis is on powerful people mired in scandal; as well as people who are supposed to be served and protected by the law, but are not. In this setting, law enforcement is not always just.
TOUCH OF EVIL is more interesting than the much-lauded CITIZEN KANE, which Welles directed and starred in seventeen years earlier. TOUCH OF EVIL is lurid, yes, but it is also provocative and entertaining. Welles didn't know how to make popular commercial entertainment in 1941. By 1958, he understood traditional movie tropes and how they could be manipulated in a thought provoking way.
The sequence where Janet Leigh's character is held hostage at a motel is shocking. There's considerable play with shadows and lighting, creating artistic imagery. What unfolds is a type of dis-ease; her being drugged makes her a morally compromised victim. She is fetishized from a perverse male point of view. Is this how Alfred Hitchcock got the idea to use her in PSYCHO?
Leigh's character is rather flat in most of her other scenes. And she doesn't come to life, ironically, unless her life is in danger and she is in need of saving by her husband (Charlton Heston).
As for Heston and his participation in the picture, it stretches credibility to place him in an ethnic role. While the actor portrays a character we are meant to root for, he is significantly overshadowed by Welles as the crooked police captain. Welles may be third billed after Heston and Leigh, but it's his film, not theirs.
The story's more interesting pairing is the one involving Welles and Marlene Dietrich's character. They are both pretty sorry excuses for human beings, having lived their lives in excess...but they are fascinating. I wanted to learn more about the history they shared.
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974)
With the sky and with the earth
I am not familiar with all of Clint Eastwood's films of the 1970s. I found THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT on Starz streaming. There was no picture for it on the Starz movies page. So I clicked on it thinking it was going to be a western, since it seemed like a good title for a western. Boy was I wrong! Instead THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT is an action/road comedy with crime elements. Clint Eastwood and Jeff Bridges play the title characters.
The film was made in 1973 and released in 1974 by United Artists (the last film Eastwood ever did for the independent studio). Supposedly the character names and title come from a Universal adventure film called CAPTAIN LIGHTFOOT (1955) starring Rock Hudson. (Hudson's costar Jeff Morrow played Thunderbolt.) It was director Michael Cimino's favorite film as a kid.
While referencing classic adventures of yesteryear, Cimino likes to connect all his characters with the sky and with the earth. He does this a lot in HEAVEN'S GATE. It's one of his trademarks as a director. Clint Eastwood originally planned to direct THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT but then decided to let Cimino do it. Cimino wrote the script and chose what its subject and themes would be.
After watching, I read some user reviews on the IMDb. One person, whose father is now deceased, loves the film but says his father hated it because of its subversive undercurrent. Another person, in another write-up, called it a precursor to THELMA & LOUISE.
Re: the part where Jeff Bridges dresses in drag...the character comes up with the idea all on his own, which leads us to wonder if he's dressed like this before. It's part of his "disguise" for the heist. There's a scene where he's just finished dressing and he's putting lipstick on in front of a mirror. The way he looks at himself is narcissistic. In an interview, Bridges said it was a mind-blowing experience...he claimed it's like you become your sister in those moments. Supposedly his father Lloyd and brother Beau kidded him endlessly about it.
The on-location on-the-run scenes remind me of THE SUGARLAND EXPRESS. The print on Starz was uncut. Some IMDb reviewers have complained that it's edited for commercials when it airs on TBS or AMC.
The Mechanic (1972)
May-December bromance with violence
When THE MECHANIC was originally released it really underperformed at the box office. Made on a $10 million budget, it only earned back $80,000. Perhaps this was because of the very strongly implied relationship between the two main characters played by Charles Bronson and Jan-Michael Vincent.
Screenwriter Lewis John Carlino- whose resume includes stories like THE FOX and THE BROTHERHOOD- claims his original script for THE MECHANIC spelled things out clearly. The controversial angle was watered down during production, but is still noticeable in some of the exchanges that take place on screen. One reviewer in 1972 identified the muted orientation of the characters, as if it were a matter of fact.
In one interview Carlino said Steve (Vincent) was supposed to change from using the relationship to manipulate Arthur (Bronson) to falling in love with him. Not sure if he had a different ending in mind. The way the film ends now, there is a huge betrayal which results in a deadly climax.
Charles Bronson was brave to do the film. Others had passed on it, because they were too afraid of the material. One person that turned down the lead in THE MECHANIC was George C. Scott. James Coburn also passed on it.
Maybe Bronson felt a need to stretch himself creatively by doing a different type of role. The most striking thing is how casually Bronson plays it. He has accepted the part knowing full well what the story is about, and he plays it honestly.
There's a great scene where they go out on a range to shoot clay pigeons and a lot can be said about the symbolism of them shooting rifles together, where Arthur is teaching his young companion how to improve and "get better" at it. Later when they are facing adversaries on a European mountain, they both put their skills to use- almost as if they are united as a couple, and will blast anyone who opposes them.
The age difference between Arthur & Steve works to the story's advantage- a mentoring process takes place and so does a May-December bromance. They are not shown like a father and son. In addition to the symbolism and the bonding, the seeds for betrayal are sewn. Mixed into this are a few martial arts scenes where Arthur takes Steve to watch two men fighting in a gymnasium. Violent rituals surround them. Both actors are remarkably comfortable in their scenes together.
Madame Curie (1943)
The Curies and their romance of radium
Marie Curie was an inspiring figure, and her life became the basis for an inspiring MGM film in 1943. The polished production was nominated in seven major categories, including Best Picture. In addition to the Oscar nomination for best picture, both leads (Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon) were nominated for their strong performances.
Additional nominations were garnered for Cedric Gibbons' art direction; Joe Ruttenberg's striking cinematography; Herb Stothart's music; and Douglas Shearer's sound design. Unfortunately, MADAME CURIE was shut out entirely, not receiving any award in any category, which seems a real injustice-- it was the same year CASABLANCA had taken Hollywood by storm.
All the nominees deserved an Oscar. I'd even add that May Whitty should have at least had a supporting actress nomination. She's wonderful as Marie Curie's mother-in-law, providing just the right touch of maternal devotion and encouragement, even if she and her husband (Henry Travers) haven't the first clue about radioactive experiments.
I suppose when modern-day audiences watch MADAME CURIE, the accomplishments of Whitty, Garson and Pidgeon in this film are a bit overshadowed by their earlier hit, MRS. MINIVER, which was released a year earlier and was a Best Picture. Also, the director of MADAME CURIE (Mervyn LeRoy) had previously worked with Garson in RANDOM HARVEST, which is another well-known Metro hit from the same period. Regardless, MADAME CURIE is a smart and entertaining motion picture that should receive a new critical appraisal and appreciation.
I won't cover the plot, except to say the studio does play up the romantic elements of the relationship in the first third of the movie. However, after the Curies are married and Whitty's character dies, the focus switches from domestic goings on to the more professional goals the couple had, as well as their many tribulations. In particular, they spent many years isolating certain elements in their experiments to prove the existence of radium.
The Warner home video I watched includes the original 124-minute print, which is what TCM usually shows. Some of the more scientific scenes were cut when the studio re-released the film. The longer version benefits from having the science material included, because what's occurring in their experiments is highly symbolic of the kind of relationship that Marie and Pierre Curie had.
Seeing them work in the shed they converted into their laboratory gives us a vivid sense of who they are as people. Also, we see how determined they are to prove their theories to help ensure that the curative powers of radium might benefit society. So in that light, they are rather heroic.
The Warner DVD includes a nifty bonus feature called 'Romance of Radium.' This is a 1937 short film the studio produced about the Curies. It was directed by Jacques Tourneur and runs about ten minutes. It uses lesser known actors, and it focuses more on the science; as well as the dangerous aspects of working directly with radium.
As a companion piece to the feature film made six years later, it is invaluable. 'Romance of Radium' was also nominated for an Oscar, for Best Short Subject Film the year it was released.
Law and Order (1953)
Classic western remake
Universal got plenty of mileage out of W. R. Burnett's bestselling novel 'Saint Johnson.' There was a precode version of the story in 1932, starring Walter Huston with script duties handled by his son John. The studio would remake the story as a serial in 1937 with Johnny Mack Brown. Then Brown was put into a 'B' film version in 1940, with the characters' names slightly changed. And finally, the studio offered viewers this rousing 1953 version in color, starring Ronald Reagan.
Burnett's tale was based on Wyatt Earp's exploits taming the west. Eradicating lawlessness and disorder is not an easy job, it's a dangerous way to make a living; and there is little time for romance or settling down. Reagan portrays the Earp stand-in, a man who leaves Tombstone to take up ranching in another town called Cottonwood. But as he soon finds out, the new community he's moved to is just as wild and lawless as Tombstone used to be.
One interesting aspect of the story is how Reagan's character thinks he can escape his reputation as a well-known lawman. He cannot just move to a new area and become one of the regular folks. A judge (Richard Garrick) and town council know about the good he did for Tombstone, and they want him to become their marshal. Part of the urgency is related to the fact that a crooked neighboring rancher (Preston Foster) whom Reagan tangled with in the past, is running things here by pulling the strings of a corrupt sheriff (Barry Kelley).
Of course, these are stock characters. So is the girl (Dorothy Malone) that Reagan loves. She's a saloon proprietress from Tombstone who gives up her former life to follow Reagan to Cottonwood. She has resigned herself to the fact that Reagan is the one for her, even if he puts his work wearing a badge above everything else, including her. Malone is beautiful and does a wonderful job conveying her role without tapping into stereotypes of a saloon gal turned homemaker. She is no real sinner, but she's no saint either.
Another thing that makes this production stand out is its inclusion of two brothers who also tag along with Reagan. These guys are played by Alex Nicol and Russell Johnson. Nicol is the first one to take the new marshal job when Reagan insists on sticking to ranch work. After Nicol is killed by Foster's son (Dennis Weaver), Reagan and Johnson get drawn into the action. Reagan realizes he must restore law and order, while youngest brother Johnson takes a different approach and seeks cold-blooded vengeance.
In addition to the romantic plot between Reagan and Malone, there is a romantic subplot between Johnson and Foster's daughter (Ruth Hampton)...shades of Romeo and Juliet, the young lovers from opposing families. When Johnson kills Weaver, the stakes are even higher between Reagan and Foster. It's all expertly played by these actors, and there is plenty of outdoor action...especially when Johnson tries to make a run for the border, and Reagan must trail after him and bring him back to stand trial.
It's really Reagan's show, he's the main alpha male. And though Reagan was never going to be mistaken for Olivier or any highly esteemed actor, he still turns in a credible performance. He is particularly good in his scenes with Malone.
Jungle Goddess (1948)
She knows their superstitions and fears
Not all low-budget fare is as bad as one might expect. This hour long adventure yarn was one of independent producer Robert Lippert's first productions. Made cheaply, it doesn't totally compromise on quality. Lippert borrowed George Reeves to star in it; Reeves was under contract to Paramount at this time. Reeves had made B films at Warner Brothers earlier in the decade then went to Paramount where he had supporting roles and second leads in more prestigious flicks.
The other lead male role in this movie is played by Ralph Byrd, who'd just finished contract assignments at RKO. The female star is Wanda McKay, a lovely actress who had started at Paramount but ended up in a series of poverty row pictures. McKay's career didn't reach the heights it should've reached. As the title character in JUNGLE GODDESS, she exudes considerable charm and a soft-spoken quality that is very calming and endearing.
The story, which is a bit razor thin in spots, has McKay as a white goddess in the wild jungle of Africa. She had a wealthy Dutch father, now deceased, who left a sum of money in his will for any adventurer who is able to find her in the middle of nowhere. This is where Reeves and Byrd come in, since they are adventurers and own a flying business together. They take off in their plane to scout locations where McKay might have ended up.
They soon locate McKay among a tribe that worships her. The tribesmen believe she has special powers because she helped save the life of a native woman (played by Mexican actress Armida). Part of McKay's success with the tribe is that she studied nursing, but more importantly, she knows the superstitions and fears of the locals which she can use to her advantage. She's a smart cookie.
Since this is a rather tame film meant to appeal to a matinee crowd, McKay is dressed in attractive garb but nothing too sexy or shocking. She lets us know that none of the natives are cannibals. And though she tells Reeves and Byrd that some of the men are prone to violence, particularly a witch doctor (Smoki Whitfield), no real brutality is shown on screen until a flight sequence at the end. Even that is done briefly and sparingly.
The suggestion of violence is what gives the film the requisite dramatic tension. Byrd has accidentally killed a tribesman after he and Reeves landed their plane in the area. So he is scheduled to die, but there seems to be a temporary stay of execution. Meanwhile, McKay conspires with Reeves to escape. They will take Byrd with them, though he is starting to crack up and go mad. When Byrd's erratic behavior is brought to McKay's attention by Armida, Reeves is still reluctant to believe it which will prove to be a mistake.
One thing I liked about the film was the tender romance that develops between Reeves and McKay. Reeves is a few years away from Superman, but he's in his prime. He has a likable screen presence. Also, I liked how writer Jo Pagano included references to the recent war, especially the dropping of the atomic bomb and how living through the war was still affecting these flyers. Plus there is some exploration regarding the background of McKay's character, depicted through a series of flashbacks, as to how she went to Africa to find her father during the war and was the sole survivor of a plane crash.
Not that the film had to be harrowing, but I would like to have seen some of the emotional scars that McKay had experienced being away from civilization so long. Similarly, when she is told her father's dead, she seems to get over that loss rather quickly. I think some of what she's been through would make her as much a warrior as a goddess.
Die Another Day (2002)
A film Bond fans either love or hate
This is probably a film Bond fans either love or hate. Interestingly, Roger Moore did not like it- he thought it went too far into the realm of the unreal and made MOONRAKER seem more believable. But I feel that if you allow the filmmakers to just tell the story they had in mind and suspend disbelief in certain parts, it's actually very imaginative and entertaining.
Moore didn't like the invisible car. And yes, it's a stretch- representing the latest and greatest gadget created by Q (John Cleese, who was called R in the previous flick). The car's a gimmick, but it allows us to delve into science fiction AND fantasy. Such technology seems amazing and undefeatable, but Bond still has to know how to use the invisible vehicle with skill. Especially if the camouflage mechanism fails to operate correctly.
In addition to two Bond girls, there are two Bond villains (Rick Yune and Toby Stephens). This means two thrilling climaxes where our super agent battles and defeats each one in separate locations. Both of the bad guys are North Koreans, something some Korean moviegoers objected to- though one camouflages himself as a westerner thanks to a fantastic bit of plastic surgery and reprogramming where he doesn't have to sleep.
The action begins and ends in North Korea. As events come full circle, Bond is on a quest to find out who betrayed him and caused him to be a prisoner of war for eighteen months. The P. O. W. Scenes are not glamorous at all, and Brosnan looks rather unkempt in those scenes. This segment of the film is like I AM A FUGITIVE FROM A CHAIN GANG meets THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE, but it works.
Bond's relationship with M in this installment feels a bit more prickly and has a little more dimension to it. She says getting him out of North Korea cost the British government too much. Not exactly what you'd call gratitude after so many successful missions in the past. Yet when Bond goes AWOL, she realizes what he is up to and develops newfound respect for him.
While he's on the run, Bond beds several sexy women. We wouldn't expect anything less, would we? One is the American agent Jinx (Halle Berry), and another is a British double agent (Rosamund Pike). Berry seems harder than other Bond girls- but her no-nonsense attitude is refreshing. She kicks butt and gets the job done. In that sense, she's perfectly matched with our hero. Bond also kicks butt. Except for those months as a P. O. W., there was never a time when he didn't.
The Letter (1940)
Mrs. Crosbie's lover is dead
There was nothing else she could do. He had lied to her. So she sent him a letter to come to the plantation after dark. That is when she would confront him.
Mrs. Crosbie fired the gun several times. She watched her lover die.
After it was all over, she said he had attacked her. She certainly couldn't jeopardize her standing as a highly respected woman. She was married to an important man. And though her husband was often away on business, she was expected to be the perfect wife during those terribly long absences.
It shouldn't have even gone to court. What a complete waste of time! Her husband could afford a good defense attorney, and she wouldn't have to testify. The stupid jury wanted so badly to believe she couldn't possibly have committed cold-blooded murder-- you could see it in their eyes. No surprise they found her 'not guilty.' Just as well, too, because convictions are meant for pathetic people who don't have parties to attend or anything exciting to look forward to.
Before Mrs. Crosbie could attend the next society function or begin a new affair, she faced a different sort of problem. Another woman now had in her possession a letter.
Yes, the letter. The one Mrs. Crosbie wrote and sent to her dead lover. Mrs. Crosbie needed to get the letter back. So she summoned the chauffeur to bring the car around. Then she went into town to settle this ridiculous blackmail business. But the people in the Chinese quarter had their own ideas about justice.
Skippy (1931)
Childhood humor and sadness
Percy Crosby's popular kid comic strip comes to life in this Paramount offering, which was released into theaters in April 1931. SKIPPY, with young Jackie Cooper playing the title character, was such a success with audiences and critics that Paramount exercised rights for a sequel. The sequel, called SOOKY after Robert Coogan's character, was rushed into production with most of the same cast. It hit screens in December of the same year.
Crosby's unique blend of childhood humor and melancholy reflects its Depression Era roots, and as such, is a perfect story for a Hollywood studio to make during the precode days of the industry. There are no real romantic elements, but some of the topics presented are quite heavy. Characters grapple with bullying; social and economic unevenness; unsanitary living conditions and access to medical care; as well as the killing of a beloved pet. In the sequel Sooky's mother (Helen Jerome Eddy) dies of tuberculosis, which is another death that these children must deal with. This is not exactly light-hearted kiddie entertainment.
The sadder themes resonated with moviegoers during the Great Depression who went to the movies for escapism, but found greater value in celluloid realism that mirrored their own situations. Adding to the injustices that Skippy and his pal Sooky face, along with their friends and enemies, is the fact that Skippy's father (Willard Robertson) is a doctor who wants to close the Shantytown area where Sooky and his mother have been living with other poor souls.
Skippy's father practices considerable intolerance until nearly the end of the first movie. In the second movie, he is unable to save the life of Sooky's mother. This sets the stage for Sooky to eventually be adopted by Skippy's family; and they officially become brothers.
Behind the scenes cartoonist Percy Crosby was involved in several high-profile disputes. He retained control over the character, but a financial standoff with the newspaper syndicate caused Crosby to pull the plug on the hit comic strip in 1945. Crosby was also in the process of suing a food manufacturing company for its use of the name Skippy to sell peanut butter, a legal battle he and his heirs lost.
When he was not creating new scenarios for Skippy and the characters in Skippy's world, Crosby suffered from a severe drinking problem and wound up in a mental institution where he eventually died. Ultimately, Skippy was a creation that brought joy to others but also tapped into Crosby's own dark insecurities and losses.
The character of Skippy would serve as an inspiration for Charlie Brown and similar creations who came after him. As for the first film, Paramount's production earned several Oscar nominations. There were nominations for Best Picture; Actor (Jackie Cooper); Adapted Story; and Best Direction (Cooper's real-life uncle Norman Taurog, who won in his category). Both SKIPPY and SOOKY were hugely successful and left an indelible impression upon viewers. These are stories that contain unflinching realism and comfort, for people who need a dose of such stuff.
The Man Who Cheated Himself (1950)
Effective noir programmer
This effective noir programmer was produced by Jack M. Warner. He was the son of Jack L. Warner, head of Warner Brothers. Jack Junior, as he was known, had a strained relationship with his father. There were periods of estrangement between the two men after Senior divorced Junior's mother in the mid-1930s and married a woman who'd had a child by him out of wedlock.
The reason I mention Warner family history is because Jack Junior remained very close with his mother Irma, who was from a privileged San Francisco background. Her relatives still wielded considerable influence over the northern California city. Anyone who's seen THE MAN WHO CHEATED HIMSELF knows the final sequence is filmed on location in San Francisco, which I am sure was no accident. And I wouldn't be surprised if the title of the film, which is in reference to the character Lee J. Cobb plays in the story, is a veiled reference to Jack Senior.
Jack Junior had spent several years on the payroll at his dad's studio, but he was eager to strike out on his own. This film began as an independent production that was going to be released thru United Artists, but eventually was purchased by Darryl Zanuck at 20th Century Fox. Zanuck had made a name for himself at Warner Brothers before forming his own company in the mid-1930s; he probably could relate to Junior's need to get out from under the father's shadow.
In the story Cobb is cast as a police detective who is embroiled in a scandalous relationship with a woman (Jane Wyatt) anxious to be rid of her wealthy husband. During a quarrel, she kills the husband and Cobb helps get rid of the body and covers up the crime. He will be assigned to investigate this homicide.
Because he's in love with Wyatt, Cobb has no intention of betraying her and sending her to the gas chamber. There is added irony when Cobb's younger brother (John Dall), another cop on the scene, is searching for clues and ends up learning the truth. He will be the one that stops Cobb and Wyatt from getting away with murder; the one preventing another man (Alan Wells) from getting the blame.
It's interesting to watch Wyatt manipulate Cobb's character in this film. The role is a far cry from the pleasant wife she played in BOOMERANG with Dana Andrews; or in PITFALL with Dick Powell. Even if those earlier hits were crime stories, Jane Wyatt was always on the right side of society and the right side of the law. Of course, she would continue to exploit that type of character in OUR VERY OWN and in the classic TV sitcom Father Knows Best, where she was always seen as a positive and morally sound woman.
But here Wyatt is working against type. A performance like this reminds us what a good and unjustly underrated actress she is. She brings a level of class and sophistication to the femme fatale archetype, and she works well in her scenes with Cobb. The final sequence, where they are on the run and end up at Fort Point under the Golden Gate Bridge is expertly played by both of them.
The Harvey Girls (1946)
Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe
There's an interesting article about THE HARVEY GIRLS on the TCM database. Supposedly MGM was developing the property for Lana Turner. The actress had already costarred with leading man John Hodiak, and this version would have been a dramatic vehicle. But MGM's musical department saw great potential in adding songs and making it their version of Oklahoma!, which was then an enormous hit on Broadway. So, they pulled Turner off the project, and persuaded Judy Garland to take the lead.
TCM's article says Judy didn't want to do it at first, maybe because it wouldn't be directed by Vincente Minnelli, whom she was married to at the time. But Judy was persuaded to take the role, and it became one of her biggest hits at the studio.
Music's provided by Johnny Mercer, and his winning tune "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe" earned him his first Oscar. It's probably one of the studio's most beloved songs from its library of musicals made during the 40s and 50s. If you haven't seen THE HARVEY GIRLS, watch it for this number alone. Even people who don't really care for the movie love this song and the way it's performed on screen.
A few years ago I purchased a book called 'The Best Old Movies for Families' written by journalist Ty Burr. Burr's book mentions THE HARVEY GIRLS twice. In one section, he discusses how his preteen daughters loved the story and kept rewatching it. Perhaps that is due to the wholesomeness in Judy's performance which strikes a chord with younger viewers, something also evidenced in THE WIZARD OF OZ.
Out of curiosity, I looked up Pauline Kael's review. She called THE HARVEY GIRLS a lavish high-spirited period musical, which it is. Also, she discusses the contrast between Garland and Angela Lansbury in two main female roles.
Per Kael, one is a force of respectability (Garland); and the other one is the complete opposite (Lansbury). Of course, both gals reach a mutual understanding before the story ends. Kael thinks the concept for the film is a bit strange but that it works. She refers to the sequence where Judy performs the Oscar-winning tune as "triumphant."
I should mention that Ty Burr says his daughters also loved JOHNNY GUITAR (1954). And if you think about it, the battle between Joan Crawford & Mercedes McCambridge in that campy Republic western is just a higher voltage version of the rivalry between Garland & Lansbury in this film.
The World Is Not Enough (1999)
It's never enough
When watching this movie, a viewer quickly realizes there isn't enough oil in the world, or enough money or enough power. And if you're a fan of 007, there is never enough James Bond either. This was Pierce Brosnan's third turn playing the character, and the last time Desmond Llewelyn played Q (the actor died shortly after the premiere). Despite the nonstop high voltage thrills, the story is a sobering late 20th century treatise on greed.
Bond's love interests are played by Sophie Marceau and Denise Richards. Marceau has more screen time and much better close-ups. As oil heiress Elektra King, she's gorgeous and dangerous. She beds the super agent in record time, but he notices there is much more to her than meets the eye. The film's prologue details a botched mission where she was kidnapped and then used as bait by M to draw out a Russian terrorist named Renard (Robert Carlyle). Elektra's father had refused to pay the ransom and he was subsequently killed. We find out that his death came at the hands of his unforgiving daughter who committed patricide with Renard's help.
Initially the British intelligence agency is unaware of this double-cross. During the early portion of the story M sends Bond to the Middle East to protect Elektra from Renard. He gradually learns that Elektra has a twisted relationship with her former kidnapper and things become increasingly dicey. Caryle is perfectly creepy as the villain (he has a face that would have made him a star in F. W. Murnau's silent films about vampires). He brings the right amount of understated menace to the role.
I like how Judi Dench has considerably more to do in this installment. At one point M is tricked by Elektra to visit the site of her pipeline, which is to ensure that M will be on hand to watch the killing of Bond, before Elektra turns M over to Renard. Of course, Bond has faked his death with the help of nuclear physicist Dr. Christmas Jones (Richards' character), and he works with a Russian casino owner to thwart Renard and rescue M. The casino owner Valentin is portrayed by Robbie Coltrane, reprising his earlier part from GOLDENEYE.
There are many exciting action sequences. The first one involves the use of Q's new unfinished boat which Bond races down the river Thames in pursuit of an assassin working for Renard. A skiing segment that takes place in the mountains is also breathtakingly good. And I thought the part where Bond and Christmas try to defuse a nuclear reactor was suspenseful if far-fetched.
However, some things might have been better. For instance, I felt the gunfire and explosions became very repetitive, as if the producers were afraid that if there wasn't a loud boom every five minutes the audience might get restless. And some of the dialogue needed fine-tuning. There was a strange line where Bond told Elektra that because of her relationship with Renard, she had suffered from Stockholm Syndrome. It didn't feel right for him to tell her this in such academic terms. Instead he should've just said "you're hung up on Renard" or "you have an unusual connection to Renard." Viewers could've figured out she was experiencing the effects of Stockholm Syndrome without Bond having to tell her this for their benefit.
I did enjoy most of the characterizations. M realizing she had caused some of Elektra's psychological problems was excellent. Valentin turning out to be a good comrade in the end was great. And Bond understanding that sleeping with Elektra was in essence like sleeping with Renard. Brosnan played the scene perfectly- his repulsion when he figured out he had slept with the enemy couldn't have been topped by any other actor as James Bond.
Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)
Bond never dies
TOMORROW NEVER DIES is a cautionary tale about the future. It features powerful people who place their own interests ahead of the greater good. I would classify the film as a techno thriller. It lacks much of Bond's trademark humor but still manages to get the job done. And though it relies heavily on action sequences, the story is in some ways more thought-provoking than what we've seen in earlier installments.
It's easy to compare this film to something like CITIZEN KANE where a media baron is using his empire to manipulate the public. Charles Foster Kane was inspired by the William Randolph Hearsts of the early 20th century. And we can infer that villain Elliott Carver (Jonathan Pryce) takes his cue from the Ted Turners and Rupert Murdochs of the late 20th century. There's also a bit of NETWORK thrown in for good measure, where Carver's news is more video orientated. We see events playing out like some sort of super-crazed nightmare of reality. It's an interesting way to present a foe for Bond to deal with, because one of Carver's ultimate goals is to push forward the headline of Bond's demise. But like the title of this film, Bond never dies.
The plot hinges mostly on Carver's plan to create a WWIII-type environment which pits the western world against China. He thinks that if the Chinese are destroyed, he can swoop in and command a broader Asian market. But the Chinese will not be so easily defeated, and the British will not be outsmarted or used against the Chinese for these purposes. It is Bond to the rescue teaming up with Wai Lin (Michelle Yeoh), a powerful and attractive Chinese agent.
However, before Bond meets Wai Lin, he crosses paths with Carver's trophy wife (Teri Hatcher). She's a real beauty and one of Bond's many ex-girlfriends. They reconnect and enjoy a brief romantic interlude. Paris Carver obviously realizes she married the wrong man, but she is unable to do anything about it when she is bumped off by her husband at the 53-minute mark.
The characters played by Hatcher and Yeoh couldn't be more different. One is considerably glamorous and the other is meant to appeal to Bond's more heroic, action side. You could say it's like going from showy to show stopping. A highpoint of the film involves a thrilling motorcycle chase for Bond and Wai Lin. It's one of those exhilarating things you watch and realize this is why Bond movies still work. Because when it all ends, you know it's been one heck of a ride.
GoldenEye (1995)
Pierce Brosnan's first appearance as James Bond
There was a six year gap between Timothy Dalton's tenure and successor Pierce Brosnan taking over as James Bond. In terms of hair color and build, Brosnan slightly resembles Dalton though their acting styles are dissimilar. Brosnan previously starred as TV's Remington Steele, and he seems rather laid back as the main character. He is the thinnest person in the role, and his body movements are much stiffer than Moore's or Dalton's ever were. I have a feeling this was intentional, to give the character a more soldiery quality, where his motion is much more precise, almost a bit bionic.
There are a few other notable differences. There's a scene in this film where Robbie Coltrane, as a Russian gangster, points a gun right at Bond's crotch. Brosnan plays this very seriously- his reactions are very specific and intense. I'm sure Moore would have played this a bit devilishly, finding the fun in extricating Bond from such a scenario.
Besides a new Bond there is a new M (Judi Dench); a new Moneypenny (Samantha Bond); and of course, a new villain in the form of Sean Bean who plays a rogue agent named Janus. Despite this being the first film in the series not to use any of Ian Fleming's novels as source material, the storyline does not deviate from the standard formula.
The rogue agent is approximately the same age as Bond, also an orphan, and he possesses the same amount of skill. He's almost like the bad side of super good Bond. We can also read into this premise a thesis on the futility of anti-British sentiment. As a traitor, Janus has developed a goal to sabotage British intelligence and bring the free world to its knees by using a satellite system to control a vast network of financial resources.
GOLDENEYE was successful in taking the franchise into a post-cold war era. It did very well with mid-90s moviegoers, and Brosnan signed on for three more installments. I thought this production contained a lot more violent shootings than most of the previous offerings. Bond is certainly a killing warrior in this film and so is Xenia (Famke Janssen), Janus' hench woman.
There's a classic scene where Xenia and Bond have a painful form of foreplay. It's too bad this scene hadn't been developed earlier so Roger Moore could have played it with Grace Jones in A VIEW TO A KILL. It needed to be done in an outrageously kitschy fashion. Brosnan seems too dignified to be throwing a woman around and burning her bottom on a bed of hot coals.
Kiss the Blood Off My Hands (1948)
Is a future in the straight world possible?
In this Universal noir, with a title that is as lurid as it is exciting, Burt Lancaster stars in his first co-production with a major studio. He plays a man who uses his fists first and thinks later. Of course his propensity for violence keeps him from joining the right side of society. The story, based on a bestselling novel by Gerald Butler, is a variation on the theme of being misunderstood. Lancaster's character, a former soldier who spent time in a Nazi prison camp, is the king of being misunderstood.
We see him wage an uphill battle against social"forces" that pressure him. His is a somewhat bleak existence, and in the post-war era, he is struggling to find peace and happiness like many ex-soldiers were.
The opening sequence is full of tense confrontation and action, with Lancaster fleeing a brawl and running down London streets at night (on the Universal backlot in Hollywood). He has just quarreled with a man inside a pub, knocked the dude out and accidentally killed him.
Bolting from onlookers and the police, he jumps over a railing and takes off. Soon he has leapt up on to a scaffold of a residential building, where he opens a window and hops inside. Lucky for him, he has just entered the apartment of a pretty young woman (Joan Fontaine) who until this moment had been sleeping soundly.
Lancaster spends the night- not in her bed, of course, since the production code is still being enforced. The next morning he starts to win her over with his good looks, charm and earnest story. It doesn't take long before she is convinced of his innocence, even if she thinks it best he leave her place and find some other place to stay.
He agrees to vacate the apartment as she goes off to work- she's a nurse employed at a nearby clinic- but since trouble is his middle name, he gets into another altercation. This time the police take him off to jail for six months. Fontaine tries to visit him while he's banged up, but she is not allowed to see him. Absence will definitely make the heart grow fonder and all that.
Though this is a film that focuses a bit more on Lancaster's character than it does on Fontaine's, she is the one who holds the story together. Fontaine's smart acting choices draw us in; it's obvious her character will play a pivotal role in the ultimate redemption of Lancaster's character.
While he's locked up for six months, there are some flogging scenes in which Lancaster's bare chest is on full display. The actor seems unafraid to explore the darker side of the role (having just made BRUTE FORCE for Universal, which contained similar abuse). In these kinds of films, with his shirt off, Lancaster quickly established himself as a beefcake star in the late 1940s.
KISS THE BLOOD OFF MY HANDS is more than anything else, a story about two young people who have been thrown together by violent circumstances. It's not a meet-cute as much as it is a meet-danger. But we know that if given half a chance, Lancaster might reform. This couple might beat the ends and find a happily ever after.
Lancaster and Fontaine are given plenty of good support by British actor Robert Newton. Newton is occasionally flamboyant as a scheming crook who witnessed Lancaster's accidental killing of the bar patron at the beginning of the story. He blackmails Lancaster's character into stealing drugs from the clinic where Fontaine works. In terms of plot, this is a good way to embroil Fontaine's character more in the overall drama. Of course, she is going to do her best to convince Lancaster to make better choices and turn from a life of crime.
Spitfire (1934)
Her name's Trigger
We must use the term "classic film" loosely, because not everything produced during the golden age of Hollywood is a bonafide classic. Some of these films are more forgettable than others. On the motion picture resume for Katharine Hepburn, this is one of the more forgettable titles; if not forgettable, then certainly it can be considered one of the most embarrassing pictures she made.
During her tenure at RKO in the 1930s, Hepburn was often put in period pictures. Some of them were hits, like LITTLE WOMEN and MARY OF SCOTLAND; and others didn't do so well. To vary her output a bit, producer Pandro Berman cast the actress in this rural story about a poor and barely literate mountain girl named Trigger.
The story had been purchased by the studio from its author, Lula Vollmer, a noted playwright who'd had a modest hit with it on Broadway in late 1927 and early 1928. George Cukor, whose career on Broadway was red hot in the 1920s before he went to Hollywood and eventually did films with Hepburn, helmed the stage production, which was called 'Trigger.' Theatrical actress Claiborne Foster played the lead. Incidentally, Foster appeared in a string of popular plays but never made the transition to movies. She later became a dramatist, and one of her own Broadway plays was adapted for a TV anthology program, giving Claiborne her only credit, as a writer, on the IMDb.
Anyway, back to Hepburn and 'Trigger' which was re-titled SPITFIRE before release by RKO. When the studio purchased the rights, the idea was to star Dorothy Jordan and Joel McCrea who'd just done ONE MAN'S JOURNEY together. But Jordan was replaced by Hepburn and McCrea dropped out. Robert Young would be borrowed from MGM; and the other male lead was played by Ralph Bellamy, borrowed from Columbia. Though Bellamy was top-billed in countless B programmers, he was usually a second lead in prestigious 'A' fare.
RKO shot the exteriors on location in the San Jacinto mountains, meant to stand in for North Carolina. Production ran over schedule, which interfered with Hepburn's plans to take another role. Hepburn was unable to wriggle out of this assignment, and did the necessary retakes, earning a bonus for the additional time she spent on the set. Though, I am sure she knew she was miscast as a savage backwoods gal believed to be a witch.
Since this is a precode, her character's primitive behavior is played up. But because this is also supposed to be a story about the evils of mob violence, she can't really be a witch, but instead is a misunderstood faith healer. Basically, there is a lot of cornpone hooey thrown in with a generous dose of hillbilly stereotypes to fool the audience into thinking this is how people in a certain part of the country act.
It's all rather cringe by modern standards, but Hepburn is no slouch, so she does render a somewhat convincing portrait of a girl that just wants to be believed and loved by others. In addition to Hepburn, Young and Bellamy, the premise is bolstered by supporting work from Will Geer (using a slightly different stage name); and Sara Haden who is the only performer in the movie that appeared in the earlier Broadway version.
The Good Die Young (1954)
And after it's over, then what?
This bleak noir, which combines antiwar sentiments with a heist narrative, is about four ex-fighters and their wives who reach the end of the line together. Two of the men are American, and one of the women is an American; the rest are British, though one of the British wives has become an American because of her marriage. An outstanding cast has been assembled to play these parts; and some of the British performers would forge successful careers in Hollywood. It's an interesting Anglo-American hybrid of talent.
The drama starts in the present, with the four men inside a stolen car, about to pull off a bank robbery near the pub where they've all gotten to know each other. We flashback to glimpse their troubled lives leading up to this; and gradually the individual stories intersect at the pub. Besides the pub and the street outside the bank, the main sets are the living quarters for each of the four couples; plus a cemetery, a train and an airport where the final scenes take place after the crime.
Laurence Harvey is the ringleader you might say; a gentleman cad who is kept by a doting somewhat older wife (Margaret Leighton, married in real life to Laurence Harvey). Harvey has no financial responsibility or real understanding of matrimony, except to the extent that his rich wife can keep bailing him out of jams when he incurs debts. She's a fool to let him use her this way, but when he turns on his seductive charms, she goes weak in the knees.
Harvey's retired father (Robert Morley in an extended cameo) won't give him any money, which makes Harvey desperate for some quick cash. He hatches the idea for the robbery, and he is able to coax the other men along. One interesting part of Harvey's past is that he was in the war and made a name for himself killing men in battle. Later, we come to realize he is just a well-heeled thug; war was something a guy like him did well since he takes perverse joy in decimating others.
Stanley Baker plays the other British chap. His character has been a fighter in the ring. As his flashback starts, we learn he is about to get out of the boxing racket. After his last bout, he ends up in the hospital with an infected hand that requires amputation. A subsequent scene has his wife (Rene Ray) make the mistake of loaning their savings to a relative who does a runner. Baker makes the most of the angst and his performance is perhaps the most potent. Early shades of kitchen sink drama for sure.
One of the Americans is portrayed by Richard Basehart. He served in the war in Britain and married a beautiful young British gal (Joan Collins at the start of her screen career). Basehart now lives and works in New York. He has also served in Korea. He returns to England to reclaim his wife, since Collins is visiting a hypochondriac mother (the superb Freda Jackson). Mother dearest is a manipulative shrew who doesn't want Collins to return to the U. S. with Basehart.
While in England saving his marriage, Basehart has forfeited a job in New York. He burns through what money he has and is dependent on his nasty mother-in-law. So, like Harvey and Baker, he is desperate to turn the tide and will join the robbery. Some of the film's most tender scenes occur between Basehart and Collins, since Collins's character is pregnant. She's kept from finding out about her husband's journey to the dark side, until the very end. This was the couple that I wanted to succeed the most.
The fourth man in the heist, the other American, is played by John Ireland. He is currently in the Air Force on a furlough. However, he fails to return to duty, to avoid being transferred to West Germany, since he is eager to stop his unfaithful wife (Gloria Grahame) from cheating on him. Grahame, no stranger to noir, adds a comedic flourish to her role as a vain actress who just can't keep her libido in check when hubby's back is turned. While I didn't think Grahame gave the best performance, she is still very entertaining to watch.
Because Ireland is now out of a job, and determined to prove something to his estranged wife, he joins the others in the plot to steal from the bank. Of course, crime does not pay; it goes terribly wrong. One interesting aspect about the failure of the operation is how Harvey starts to kill the other men whom he sees as both a liability and an obstacle to his retaining all the funds they've grabbed and hidden at a nearby cemetery.
The cemetery is symbolic, since all the men will die, including Harvey. Three of them are shot to death; one is run over by a train while scurrying across the tracks near the cemetery. The final sequence is action packed and filled with nihilism. The film seems to be telling us that these men would have been better off dying as heroes in the war; there's no place for them in a postwar society.
Paris brûle-t-il ? (1966)
A tapestry of bloodshed and heroism
This film has an international cast that features big Hollywood names as well as important names from European cinema. A lot of care has been put into the production, so it seems quite "epic."
I read Bosley Crowther's unflattering review of IS PARIS BURNING?, and I feel the need to address a few points. In his essay, Crowther takes particular umbrage with the disjointed nature of the film, which may be a problem he has with the editing. He seems to want the individual characters and their individual subplots to connect more smoothly. Personally, I don't think that is needed. Most epics work best when they are episodic in nature. IS PARIS BURNING shows how disjointed and chaotic war can be.
One single event, a large-scale battle, ripples across a nation and has lasting impact on a cross-section of people and cultures. Often, it's effective to intercut between seemingly unrelated scenes, to get a greater sense of the widespread ramifications of the atrocities. As such, I do not think it is necessary to understand each character or to even know them by name specifically. A film like this is sort of a tapestry of bloodshed and heroism, with many different facets of the wartime experience reflected on the faces and in the hearts of those involved.
We should also understand that someone watching this motion picture in 1966 had probably served in World War II, or was related to someone that had. The characters, especially the nameless ones, would be stand-ins for the real-life men and women that had served in battle. A story like this is always about casualties and survivors, and how life after war is supposed to be a chance for humankind to rebuild.
Crowther does not like the fact that some of the main stars disappear after their sequences play out on screen, with very little follow-up. Perhaps this is because the filmmakers are trying to include as many different subplots as possible, taken from the original source material. Or perhaps they only had some of these actors for a short period of time and all they ever intended to do was a few short scenes, to add to the tapestry. At any rate, I think Crowther is finding too much fault with it.
What I like most about IS PARIS BURNING? Is how alive some of the sequences are. Notably, the parts where Paris is liberated from the Nazis. It feels, to me, like a 'you are there' moment. Remarkable considering the story was produced two decades after the war ended. It still seems fresh in the minds of the participants, and as such, it comes across vividly for the viewer. I don't know about you, but I appreciate it when a movie transports me to a time and a place that occurred before I was born. It helps me learn history better, even with the usual cinematic distortions. But I think this film is actually free of most distortion.
Nothing Sacred (1937)
A bit of a caricature, spoofing hard news
Carole Lombard excelled at screwball comedy, and it wasn't until she made NOTHING SACRED for David Selznick that she had ever been photographed in Technicolor. So it's a real treat for Lombard's fans, and for fans of the genre, since the early use of Technicolor seemed to be reserved for musicals or big scale epics.
NOTHING SACRED is only 77 minutes. Ben Hecht is the credited screenwriter, though supposedly at least a half dozen other writers contributed material. Some of what we see on screen is meant to suggest Hecht's disdain for "important" news. Where he was saying that most of what is printed is barely worth wrapping up a fish, or lining the bottom of a birdcage. It's very tongue-in-cheek.
In some ways the goings on remind me of a Damon Runyon story. There are outlandish situations and colorful characters, and it all blends together in a frenetic and rather amusing way. This is kind of new territory for a David Selznick picture, since his productions tend to be much more high brow and focusing on members of the upper class.
Lombard's character is brought into the story in a very clever way. After a news reporter (Fredric March) has been sent by his boss (Walter Connolly) to work in the obituary department, he reads a blurb about some Vermont woman who apparently has radium poisoning and is dying. In the next part March travels to Vermont to learn more about the woman and to meet her. Their initial run-in is quite interesting. Then things become quite exaggerated.
At first, I wasn't sure if she was actually sick or not. We know that whether or not she is ill, that's besides the point. The main point is that March's reporter is going to milk the situation for what it's worth, to generate a ton of sympathy for her so he can sell newspapers. In order to do this, he flies her from Vermont to New York. Even though this is supposed to be funny, there is something serious being portrayed on screen. Mainly the fact that everyone else is deeply concerned about Lombard's character, thinking this is the end for her. They have all taken her situation to heart.
Ultimately she is put up at a hotel suite where everyone thinks she is going to die. And in that sequence, we get some ironic commentary about this gal's life and the thought of her passing away so young. It is all the more poignant since Lombard herself would die just four years later.
I love the scene where Lombard has an argument with March and socks him in the jaw. I think it's definitely Lombard's best moment on screen, and it's easy to see why Lombard would tell people this was her favorite film. It's a very well-rehearsed choreographed moment for her. It's perfect from start to finish.
Watching something like this, you really get a sense of Lombard's greatness. I think she was ahead of her time in many regards. I especially like her impersonating Garbo in a Paramount picture she made with Fred MacMurray (THE PRINCESS COMES ACROSS). In this film, she is also doing a bit of a caricature; and her timing is impeccable. She likes to satirize things, to spoof situations and Hecht's story is right up her alley. It starts as a ruse. But then the ruse becomes something very real. Lombard expertly accomplishes that transformation with the character. But she never lets it get too maudlin; she keeps it fun.
The Secret Fury (1950)
Speak up now or forever hold your peace
Claudette Colbert is cast as a distressed concert pianist in this above average psychological noir released thru RKO. She has been told some unsavory things about herself, things she is almost too afraid to face. There is a scene where she sits with the man she was supposed to marry (Robert Ryan, in a sympathetic role) and says: "what happens to people in cases of amnesia, when they go blank...do they do things they'd never do as their normal selves...something awful?" This is foreshadowing, because a bit later she will be accused of murder.
The film opens on what is supposed to be Colbert's happy wedding day to Ryan. But during the ceremony, they've been interrupted by claims that Colbert cannot wed Ryan, because she's already married to someone else. The twist is that if she's a bigamist, she is certainly unaware of this. The ceremony is abruptly postponed while a doting aunt (Jane Cowl) pacifies the guests, so Colbert and Ryan can go off to investigate Colbert's supposed other marriage.
It's an intriguing way to start a motion picture. We are misdirected in the opening scenes, since Ryan is given some humorous details to play regarding his suit; and Colbert is afraid to see him before walking down the aisle as she is superstitious. An unsuspecting viewer may think this will be a romcom or a mild drama, the type the actress played many times before with Fred MacMurray or Ray Milland during her days as a contract player at Paramount. But these softer more pleasant scenes soon give way to the horror that she may have had a terrible lapse in memory.
Of course, as they investigate her other alleged marriage in another town, there are all sorts of 'witnesses' who remember her first marriage. This includes a justice of the peace (Percy Helton) and a hotel chambermaid (Vivian Vance in her screen debut). But it turns out these people did not ever see her before. They are in on a con that is being orchestrated by Colbert's family attorney (Philip Ober, husband of Vivian Vance).
For reasons not initially clear, Ober's character is out for revenge against the family, due to an old grudge he still harbors against Colbert's now deceased father, a judge. I didn't quite understand how Ober could have managed to hide his motives during the entire time he's worked for the family. Surely Colbert's character couldn't have been so gullible or easily fooled by such a man without glomming on to his true feelings about her, her late father and the estate.
I also thought it was a little too easy that all those people in the other town had such convincing stories, to support the false notion of Colbert's phony first marriage. Though, I will say the supporting cast does a decent enough job conveying a huge scam. In a way this is like two Ingrid Bergman movies rolled into one. It's a touch of GASLIGHT, in that Colbert's character is being set up to think she has lost her grip on what is real; and it is also a touch of SPELLBOUND, with the possible amnesia angle.
As if this isn't enough, she starts to go off the rails when it seems as if she is not telling the truth. The second half of the narrative has her locked up in a sanitarium, a la THE SNAKE PIT, while Ryan continues to dig for clues to prove her story, that she was not married before and hasn't lost a grip on reality. Incidentally, Colbert took the role after it had originally been intended for Ida Lupino. Ryan would work with Lupino in two other pictures after this at RKO.
Contemporary reviewers were a bit harsh about the more far-fetched aspects of the plot. But the goal with these kinds of films was to give audiences bonafide suspense, something more than what they might find on radio or television in its infancy. In that regard, I think the film succeeds. Colbert's earlier venture, SLEEP MY LOVE, where she also spends portions of the melodrama dealing with something that may or may not be true, would make a good double feature with THE SECRET FURY.
The Constant Nymph (1943)
For the love of Tessa
In the 1930s and 1940s it was fashionable for American movie studios to produce tearjerkers with music making as a central plot point. There was an obvious benefit to this: the melodies heard on the soundtrack might move the audience to tears, even if some of the scenes and performances didn't quite do the trick. In this handsomely mounted production from Warner Brothers, music is key to the plot, but nearly all the performances and most of the scenes aid in the construction of a sorrowful tale that would make even a stone cry in the last scene.
Leading actress Joan Fontaine cited this 1943 motion picture version of Margaret Kennedy's 1924 novel as being her favorite, of all the fine movies Fontaine appeared in during her Hollywood career. It is easy to see why an actress would appreciate this production, since it had a top director (Edmund Goulding); one of the cinema's most romantic leading men (Charles Boyer); an excellent array of supporting players; top notch studio production values; a pseudo-operatic death scene at the end; and of course, Erich Korngold's touching score.
Kennedy's story may seem a bit dated and politically incorrect now, but when silent movie audiences watched the first screen version in 1928, and some of those viewers probably watched the 1933 British remake, it was daring for its time. After all, this was a story about a fifteen year old girl (Fontaine) who has more than just a simple crush on an older man (Boyer). It is not quite a sexual awakening for her, since the character of Tessa has a deeper understanding of human relationships beyond just sex; proving she is wise for her years. As the title character, she is a constant eternal virgin; and Tessa's love for Lewis is never physically consummated.
The novel has Tessa and Lewis going off to be married at the end, after Lewis has left his selfish and materialistic wife Florence (Alexis Smith). However, Tessa's heart condition proves fatal and she dies before the reader learns if the couple's been physically intimate. In a similar vein, the 1943 film version doesn't bring them to full passion. They don't even kiss on the lips. Due to the production code, Lewis is not quite allowed to leave Florence, though she agrees to step aside, allowing him to finally profess his love for Tessa.
The main "romance" is a doomed one; perhaps, we can assume that Lewis finds contentment with Florence after Tessa's demise. Though, he most certainly will never get over the sadness of losing Tessa whose tender love will continue to be a source of inspiration for him.
In contrast to their story, there is a subplot in which one of Tessa's sisters, an older girl named Toni (Brenda Marshall) is allowed happiness with a wealthy suitor (Peter Lorre, of all people). I think Lorre was cast because he was Jewish and in the novel, this character's ethnicity is emphasized, even if Hollywood screenwriters don't spell it out in the movie.
Some of the other sisters (Joyce Reynolds and Jean Muir) fade from view, as they are less important to the overall progression of the story. However, all the sisters and their Bohemian father (Montagu Love) are meant to represent creative freedom and a natural order separate from the rest of society. In direct opposition to the Sanger family, we have civilized folks like their cousin Florence and her father (Charles Coburn) plus a well-to-do patroness of the arts (May Whitty).
Tessa doesn't fit into the civilized world very easily. And Lewis doesn't either, if we're honest. In a sense, they are both spirits who will not be free to love completely in this lifetime. But we're comforted in knowing that a man's heart will lead him to create beautiful soul-stirring art/music.
I do have to say that I found it interesting the way Warners was using Kennedy's story to recycle some themes that the studio had already explored in its 1938 version of Fannie Hurst's FOUR DAUGHTERS. Here, we also have a group of carefree daughters, the Sanger sisters, with the most beautiful one featured prominently. In both films one of the sisters is interested in wealth and marries a successful businessman. Also, the father is a musician; and a man who comes into the family is a musician. Though Boyer is a lot less hostile in his scenes than John Garfield's character was in FOUR DAUGHTERS.
One Hour with You (1932)
The dangers of flirting
This eighty minute Paramount precode was directed by Ernst Lubitsch, with assistance by George Cukor- more on that in a moment- and features its two lead stars at their most charming. This was the second of four pairings for French import Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald. MacDonald would soon move over to MGM, but despite her subsequent films with Nelson Eddy, she would also be remembered for these romantic trifles with Chevalier.
Of course romance isn't the only ingredient. MacDonald's career often had her starring in operetta type films that showcased her work as a vocalist. In addition to romance and music, there are plenty of comedic flourishes, many of them naughty since this is a precode as well as an Ernst Lubitsch production.
Lubitsch had previously made the story as a silent film eight years earlier. The first incarnation was called THE MARRIAGE CIRCLE, which played up the cyclical nature of two couples either embarking on affairs with others or tempted to do so. Max Ophuls' anthology classic LA RONDE (1950) would employ the same basic concept, though Ophuls' picture was a bit grander in scope, depicting ten amorous exploits set against a wider social backdrop.
ONE HOUR WITH YOU could just as easily be called THE DANGERS OF FLIRTING, since Chevalier's character enjoys the attention he receives from a friend of wife MacDonald (played by Genevieve Tobin who usually specialized in second leads, some of them more wicked than others). In the story Tobin may be friends with MacDonald, but her loyalty only goes so far, as she aims to get her hooks into Chevalier. Meanwhile, Tobin's husband (Roland Young) has hired a detective (Richard Carle) to get evidence of her ongoing indiscretions.
The premise is somewhat contrived but cheeky. I am not sure how I felt about Chevalier's numerous asides to the viewer, continually breaking the fourth wall to comment on the general scenario. I guess it was a bit overdone for my liking, making Chevalier almost precocious in an annoying way.
Opening scenes have Chevalier and MacDonald nearly chased out of a park for acting indecent, but Lubitsch and scriptwriter Samson Raphaelson are eager to point out that they are married, so they should be allowed to be as naughty as they want to be, even in public. The morality is strange to say the least, a bit perverse in spots, meant to gently shock the audience yet still come across cutesy, as well as grand when MacDonald vamps it up.
Behind the scenes, Lubitsch was caught up in a power struggle with George Cukor who had originally been assigned to direct. Lubitsch knew the material, since he'd helmed the silent version, and he jumped in to steady the ship after Cukor clashed with Chevalier. For some reason, Cukor was not fully replaced- maybe studio execs thought Lubitisch would eventually hand the reigns back over to Cukor.
Lubitsch retained control of the picture and demanded that he receive sole credit, which Cukor objected to, vehemently. Eventually Cukor litigated against Paramount to have his name listed in the credits as an assistant director. Cukor was also able to negotiate the dissolution of his contract with the studio, so he could go work for David Selznick.