MOONTIDE (1942)

A character-driven melodrama which plays out like a noir version of Steinbeck's "Cannery Row." Jean Gabin is Bobo, a guy who lives on the waterfront doing odd jobs on boats that dock in the bay. He's likeable but he drinks too much, though we never know what brought him to his current state. He is shadowed by crusty old Thomas Mitchell; first we think Mitchell's a pal, but we soon see him in a different light as a potentially cruel leech. One night, Gabin stops Ida Lupino from committing suicide and the two develop a relationship, helping each other to stay propped up and on the straight and narrow. When harmless Pop Kelly is found murdered, clues point to Gabin as a suspect (he might have done it during a drunken blackout), and the situation threatens to derail the tentative happiness that Gabin and Lupino have found. It turns out that Mitchell has a couple of secrets that lead to a fairly exciting climax. Claude Rains is almost unrecognizable (looking a bit like Barry Fitzgerald) as a barroom philosopher; Jerome Cowan is a middle-class doctor with a mistress, though his storyline doesn't come to much. In fact, the real problem here is that all the plotlines and characters never really come together. It feels like we're supposed to buy into the idea of this nurturing waterfront community, but not enough is done with the supporting characters. There is some nice atmosphere, lots of fog, and a stagy set that manages to be nicely evocative. There are a couple of big names behind the scenes: author John O'Hara wrote the screenplay, and Fritz Lang directed (though he was replaced at some point by Archie Mayo). [FMC]

WALK ON THE WILD SIDE (1962)

This is a trashy, overheated soup of a movie that had the potential to be fun, but thanks to some stupendously bad acting and underwritten characters, is mostly a tedious haul through faux-Tennessee Williams territory. Laurence Harvey is Dove Linkhorn (no, that's not a typo), a tall and apparently penniless Texan lad who hitchhikes his way to New Orleans to find his long-lost love (Capucine). She's a sculptor and supports herself by working in a brothel, the Doll House, run by tough-as-nails madam Barbara Stanwyck. Capucine is also Stanwyck's lover. Helped out by a kindly Mexican diner owner (Anne Baxter), Harvey finds Capucine and the two plan to leave New Orleans together to start a new life, but Stanwyck doesn't want to let go of her "girl toy." The wild card in all this is Kitty Twist (Jane Fonda), an ambitious and wildly sexy but nasty underage girl whom Dove finds along the road. She winds up working at the Doll House and helps set in motion a blackmail scheme against Harvey intended to get him out of town and away from Capucine. Harvey and Capucine seesaw back and forth about getting back together, and in the end, after Stanwyck's musclemen beat the living crap out of Harvey, a gun goes off, killing an important character and making sure that no one gets a happy ending out of any of this sordidness.

What's good here? Stanwyck, of course, is fine, giving us a little preview of her "Big Valley" melodramatics. Any fun the movie has is due to her. I liked Fonda in a total spitfire role. Baxter is also good; some critics have taken her to task for her bad Mexican accent, but I thought she was as believable as anyone else. Another plus is the camerawork, with lots of slithery movement around elaborate sets. The music, by Elmer Bernstein, was good, much of it being played by a jazz combo in the brothel. The biggest problem with the movie is Laurence Harvey, who is totally miscast. I've never liked Harvey—the best thing I can say for him in THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE is that he doesn't hurt the movie. But he definitely hurts this one. He's not a Texan, he has no passion and he is too old for the part. He is terrible. Capucine is not very good, either, though she certainly looks like she could make a good living as a hooker. The weak screenplay is another problem; the backstory of Harvey and Capucine's characters is almost non-existent. Stanwyck's character is married (to a legless man who has become her flunky) and certainly adores Capucine, but she also makes a strange anti-lust speech late in the movie, which makes me wonder exactly what she and Capucine did behind closed doors—lie around in their nightgowns and talk about sensible shoes? I'm quite surprised that they got away with such strong implications about prostitution and lesbianism with the Code still (barely) in force. The credit sequence by Saul Bass, with a black cat slinking around and getting into a fight, is famous and great looking, though the movie doesn't live up to it. But I've got to admit, any movie with a character called Kitty Twist can't be all bad. [TCM]

TIL WE MEET AGAIN (1940)

A totally unnecessary remake of the 1932 Warners melodrama ONE WAY PASSAGE. I suppose there's nothing wrong with this movie, especially if you haven't seen the original, but it adds no new insights in terms of plot or acting. George Brent is the escaped convict (played by William Powell in 1932) caught overseas and being transported back to San Quentin to await execution; Merle Oberon, dying of a heart condition, is the lonely woman he meets on board the ship (Kay Francis in the original). The two fall in love while keeping their dark secrets from each other, at least for a time. Frank McHugh reprises his role in the original as a con man friend of Brent's, and Binnie Barnes is the con woman, a role done much better in '32 by Aline MacMahon. More or less added to this version are Geraldine Fitzgerald as a friend and protector to Oberon, and Eric Blore as an English gentleman whom Barnes is scamming. None of the couplings have much chemistry; certainly Brent and Oberon can't touch Powell and Francis. This version is a little longer and glossier but still feels like a scene-by-scene B-level remake. Also with George Reeves, John Ridgely, and Regis Toomey. Stick to ONE WAY PASSAGE. [TCM]

MY DEAR MISS ALDRICH (1937)

Mildly amusing comedy. Maureen O'Sullivan is the title character, a teacher from Nebraska who inherits a New York City newspaper. She and her aunt (Edna May Oliver) go to the big city and deal with the male chauvinist editor (Walter Pidgeon) who refuses to hire female reporters. O'Sullivan decides to prove that she can be a good reporter and gets involved in a group of businesspeople dealing with an upcoming strike. The last half of the film becomes a long slapstick chase at a roadside inn. The funniest scene in the movie involves O'Sullivan's travails with a dumbwaiter. There's also a nice running gag in which Oliver tries to figure out why on earth a place called Locust Valley has no locusts. Also with Roger Converse, Leonid Kinsky, and Robert Greig. [TCM]

CITY FOR CONQUEST (1940)

Fast-paced, interesting urban drama with a great cast. James Cagney plays a guy from the tenements who boxes on occasion to raise money to help out his brother (Arthur Kennedy), a music teacher who has aspirations to write a great symphony about New York City. Cagney has faith in his brother and doesn't want him doing manual work or cheapening his talent by writing pop music. Ann Sheridan is Cagney's girl who wants to be a dancer; soon, she's partnered with Anthony Quinn, who traps her in a contract for ballroom and professional dancing. They make names for themselves on the club circuit but she's unhappy away from Cagney. Meanwhile, Cagney is "discovered" by boxing promoter Donald Crisp and has a rapid rise in the sport under the name Young Sampson (though, truth be told, Cagney, at 41, looks a bit long in the tooth to be billed as "young"). With Kennedy and Sheridan in mind, Cagney makes a lot of money at boxing, but ends up blinded when an unscrupulous opponent puts resin powder on his gloves. Will he reunite with Sheridan? Will his brother's symphony get heard by the public? A melodramatic but satisfying ending reveals all.

The plot sounds awfully cliche, but the film moves quickly (until a little bit of sagging at the end). The actors are all fun to watch, including the unusually large supporting cast: Frank McHugh is Cagney's buddy (as he was in real life); Lee Patrick is a dancer; Elia Kazan is a ghetto pal of Cagney's who makes it big but winds up bumped off; Blanche Yurka is Sheridan's mother; Jerome Cowan and Frank Faylen have small roles. There are a couple of boxing beefcake shots early on, and I chuckled at a line from Crisp to Cagney: "I had a hunch about you from the minute I saw you strip down." There's a tenement dance hall scene that is well shot and reminded me a bit of the way "America" is staged in WEST SIDE STORY. Snippets of "42nd Street" and "Lullaby of Broadway" can be heard in the background of a couple scenes. The symphony that Kennedy writes is a second-rate imitation of Gershwin, but that's the only complaint I have for this movie. [TCM]

YOUNG DR. KILDARE (1938)
CALLING DR. KILDARE (1939)

These are the first two films in the long Dr. Kildare series made by MGM, based on a character created by Western writer Max Brand. (There was an earlier film from Paramount with Joel McCrea, but the MGM series starts from scratch.) I remember my mother watching the Kildare TV show of the 60's (with Richard Chamberlain), but I don't think I ever saw an entire episode, so the characters, their backgrounds, and their interactions were all new to me. Both films feel more like mysteries or police stories dressed up with hospital trappings. I guess that makes some sense, since it's not very exciting just watching doctors diagnose and cure patients. In both movies, Kildare (Lew Ayers) is an intern who has a rough time of it at a big city hospital, largely due to his cranky, wheelchair-bound mentor, Dr. Gillespie (Lionel Barrymore). Kildare gets into some trouble and Gillespie, who is usually part of the reason for the trouble, helps get him out. In the first one, the problem is a young woman who has tried to commit suicide; her family wants her declared insane but Kildare thinks she's sane and investigates to find out what her trouble is. Monty Woolley has a small role as the psychiatrist with whom Kildare disagrees. In CALLING, the problem is a gunshot victim Kildare tends to without informing the police. He gets wrapped up in the lives of the victim, a young man, and his sister (Lana Turner).

Lew Ayers is fine, as is Laraine Day who debuts in the second film as the character whom I assume winds up in later films as Kildare's love interest. I usually like Barrymore, but I found him irritating here, partly due to his overdone schtick as an irascible but ultimately good-hearted fogey, and partly to the way the character was written. Samuel S. Hinds, whom I know as George Bailey's father in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, is good as Kildare's father. Emma Dunn is the mother, and though she's OK, I kept thinking that Sara Allgood would have been better, if she could have done a Midwest American accent. The handsome Phillip Terry (one of Joan Crawford's husbands in real life) is a fellow intern. The backstory, set up in YOUNG, is that Ayres returns to his Midwest small town for a visit after graduating from medical school; his father, also a doctor, assumes that his son will go into practice with him, but Ayers opts for a internship at a New York hospital. There is also a small town girlfriend (Lynne Carver) who apparently drops out of the series after CALLING. These were both worth watching, but I think my curiosity about the series has been slaked and I don't need to see any more. [TCM]

CHARLEY'S AUNT (1930)

Charlie Ruggles is the main reason to watch this early talkie version of a famous play, later remade with Jack Benny. Charley (Hugh Williams) and Jack (Rod McLennan) are two Oxford students who scheme during an afternoon picnic to ask two girls to marry them. The stuffy uncle and guardian of the girls (Halliwell Hobbes) has decided not to consent to any marriage since he will lose the guaranteed income he has as guardian. The chaperone at the picnic is supposed to be Charley's aunt (Doris Lloyd), a rich widow who lives in Brazil ("...where the nuts come from" becomes a comic catchphrase), but she cancels her visit so the boys get Ruggles, an older student who just happens to be trying on drag for a part in a play, to impersonate the aunt so they can go ahead with the picnic. Hobbes takes a shine to Ruggles (or, more to the point, takes a shine to her supposed fortune), as does Jack's father. In the middle of the afternoon, the real aunt shows up, with a young lady who turns out to be a long lost love of Ruggles'. Farce ensues. Ruggles, in his mid-40's, is really too old to be playing a student, but once he's in full old-lady drag, he's very funny and holds the whole movie together. Zany wordplay and slapstick abound; one of the funniest repeating gags involves Ruggles throwing objects at Hobbes' hat (which he shouldn't be wearing indoors). It's stagy in looks and acting, but the material is funny and Charlie Ruggles is wonderful. For some reason, the Jack Benny version is hard to come by, so I can't compare the two versions. [AMC--years ago when they still showed classic movies]

THE SEA HAWK (1940)

Errol Flynn at the peak of his career. Although I liked him better in the earlier ROBIN HOOD and THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE, he is in good form here. I don't know much about British history, so I may have some of the plot details muddled. The movie is set during the reign of Elizabeth I; Flynn plays a privateer, a pirate who works at least partly to protect British interests at sea, though he and his band of men still plunder the ships they board. They take over a Spanish ship carrying a diplomat (Claude Rains) and his niece (Brenda Marshall), free the ill-treated slaves who row the ship, and take Rains to the Queen. Flynn and Marshall fall in love, of course. Flynn and his men then undertake work for the Queen in Panama, but must do so without any offical recognition (like the Mission: Impossible team!). In Panama, they are captured by the Spanish and stumble upon news of the coming attack of the Spanish Armada against England. Flynn and his men, stuck in chains, manage to take over the ship and Flynn tries to make it to the Queen in time to warn her about the Armada.

Flynn is practically the whole show here, handsome, dashing, heroic, and cocky. He and Marshall make a nice couple, though they don't really share much screen time. Flora Robson is great as Queen Elizabeth; she almost steals the show from Flynn. Her final speech is a great example of the not-so-subtle pro-British propaganda that Warners was putting into their films during the early days of WWII while the US was still supposedly neutral. Rains is fine, as always, as are the usual Warners supporting players. Special mention should be made of Henry Daniell as the treacherous Lord Wolfingham, Una O'Connor as Marshall's companion, and Alan Hale as Flynn's trusty sidekick. The Panama scenes are all tinted in a yellow-sepia tone. Michael Curtiz directed, and I'm firmly convinced that he has not received the praise due to him. He wasn't a great stylist or maybe even a great artist, but he could entertain, and there are quite a few memorable scenes here, including the uprising of the enslaved crew and the climactic sword fight between Flynn and Daniell (though it's marred a bit by some awkward use of speeded-up footage). The print that Turner Classic Movies showed was not in very good shape, with some speckling and splices; I don't know if the VHS release is any better. [TCM]

WASHINGTON MELODRAMA (1941)

A surprisingly engrossing B-movie from MGM. It's a crime thriller, a political drama, and a romance, with a musical number and even a water ballet! Frank Morgan is an industrialist who is trying get a bill passed that would allow the U.S. to send money and food to suffering victims of Nazism in Europe (at a time when the government was supposed to be neutral). His future son-in-law, a journalist (Kent Taylor), is dead set against his policy. One night at a nightclub while his wife and daughter are on an extended visit overseas, Morgan hooks up with a chorus girl (Anne Gwynne) who keeps him company while he's lonely--as a sop for the Code, it's made clear that they aren't engaging in any hanky-panky, but I didn't believe it for a minute. The day after his wife returns, the girl is found murdered and some damaging clues that point to Morgan are presented to Taylor, who is torn between his duty as a reporter and some strained loyalty to his future father-in-law. Dan Dailey, the nightclub owner, is the real killer (not a spoiler, since we see him commit the murder), but will he be unmasked before scandalous headlines hurt Morgan and his political cause? Coherent, well acted, suspenseful, and fun. Ann Rutherford is Morgan's sympathetic daughter, Fay Holden is the somewhat less sympathetic wife, and Lee Bowman has a nice non-irritating comic relief role. Fans will recognize Sara Haden and Douglass Dumbrille in small roles. Dailey is quite good playing against type as a scoundrel. Morgan is even better, going for subtlety rather than bluster. The water ballet is quite bizarre, done to a song called "Fishing for Suckers," with chorus girls in bathing suits swimming about in a pool while the rich male clientele literally "fish" for the girls with fishing rods that can hook the girls suits. That's how Morgan reels in Gwynne. Why this trend didn't sweep the country's nightspots is beyond me. [TCM]

THE AMAZING MR. X (1948)

A solid little B-thriller, with echoes of THE UNINVITED (at least in tone and visuals). It falls short of being a truly good movie mostly due to its budget, but it does have a nice Hitchcockian feel on occasion--though Hitchcock would certainly have done some script revision, as well as had a bigger budget. Lynn Bari is a rich widow who lives in a huge house by the sea with her kid sister Cathy O'Donnell. Bari has never quite gotten over the death of her husband (Donald Curtis), but she has finally agreed to seriously consider a marriage proposal from nice guy friend Richard Carlson. One spooky night on the beach, Bari meets the exotic Turhan Bey, a psychic who knows a lot about Bari and begins counseling her. O'Donnell and Carlson are afraid that Bey is a con man who will take advantage of Bari, and we learn that he is indeed a fake, getting his information from Bari's housekeeper (Virginia Gregg). Soon, however, there are complications: O'Donnell falls for Bey, and Bari's dead husband seems to have returned, via Bey's seance. The acting is so-so, though Bey is good as a character for whom our sympathies shift now and then. The limited budget was likely an asset in the look of the film--lots of darkness and shadows to cover up the cheap sets and rear projections. The seance scene is very well done, and the ending doesn't disappoint. Recommended for a rainy night. [DVD]

LUCKY NIGHT (1939)

Myrna Loy might not have been able to single-handedly save every movie she was in, but she's really the only reason to stick with this one, which is full of screwball comedy conventions (influenced especially by IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT) but isn't really a screwball comedy. Loy plays an heiress who is tired of her planned-out whitebread life; she breaks off an engagement and leaves the house of her father (Henry O'Neill) to make her own way. Jobless and penniless, she meets up with another poor soul, Robert Taylor, on a park bench. They hit it off, borrow 50 cents from a cop, and go gambling. They win big on their "lucky night," get drunk, and get married. He gets a job and they seem happy for a time, but soon he becomes an unconventional madcap (to be able to take off work on a Monday rather than a Saturday, for instance) and, though Loy tries to go along, ultimately she leaves him and winds up back at her father's house. There's more drinking, some subterfuge, and finally a reconciliation. It's actually fairly fun until the rushed and slipshod ending. The whole thing has a kind of half-thought through Capraesque tone that doesn't jell, though Loy and Taylor work well together. Marjorie Main has a small role as a landlady. Mostly for Loy fans. [TCM]

HI DIDDLE DIDDLE (1943)

A little-known B-movie from United Artists, rescued from obscurity by Quentin Tarantino and shown on Trio. It's a zany screwball comedy (with the usual dealings in love, marriage, and disguise) that occasionally transcends its low budget with some fun moments. Dennis O'Keefe is a hunky sailor who is set to marry his financee, Martha Scott, while on a 2-day leave. The compounding problems begin when he's late for the wedding because his ship is late docking. His father, Adolphe Menjou, is a fairly disreputable con man who has lucked into marriage with an opera singer (Pola Negri, a great star of the silent screen). Menjou goes to the wedding but hasn't told his wife that he has a grown son, which leads to problems later on. Scott's mother (Billie Burke) has just lost her fortune thanks to her "date" (Barton Hepburn) who claims he deliberately lost the money gambling to see if O'Keefe was only interested in Scott for her mother's money. O'Keefe is, of course, really in love, but he and his father plot to get the money back for Burke, with help from a friendly nightclub singer (June Havoc), who can rig the gambling room's roulette wheel. There's also a scam involving stocks, and it turns out that Burke never really lost the money after all, so keeping tracking of who's got how much of what is tricky. There are a number of funny bits: the wedding is postponed so long that the minister holds a christening (of twins) while waiting for O'Keefe, who walks in just as Scott picks up the babies, which gives him a fright. A girl who shows up in several bit parts is recognized by the actors and said to be present because she's a favorite of the director. There's a funny moment with Burke and her friends practicing double-talk, "just like in the movies!" Havoc sings a duet with her own image on a video screen, and the last scene takes place in a room where the art on the wallpaper comes alive (via animation). An Oscar nominee for best score. Not exactly a classic, but interesting and fun. Thanks, Quentin. [Trio]

THE CROWD (1928)

A silent masterpiece about the dreams and frustrations of everyday people. Office clerk James Murray goes out on a double date with an office pal (Bert Roach) and promptly falls in love with his date, Eleanor Boardman. They get married and have children, and over time, their domestic life seems happy enough, but Murray is continually frustrated at work, with his inability to rise in the company, unlike his friend. Murray keeps telling his wife that his ship will come in, though it gets harder and harder for him to believe it himself. There is one brief bright moment when he wins $500 in an ad slogan contest; they use some of the money to buy new toys for the kids, but in a heartbreaking scene, as the children come running home to see the toys, one of them is hit by a car and killed. Murray, distraught, can't recover from the tragedy, loses his job, is driven from his home, and hits rock bottom, contemplating suicide. His surviving child gives him the strength to go on, even, as the last shot shows, against overwhelming odds that he will ever be able to stand out from the crowd of humanity around him. Much of the look of the movie seems inspired by German expressionism; there's an especially interesting claustrophobic shot early on when the Murray character, as a boy, climbs dark and crooked stairs to discover his father has died. Shots of the office workers, at endless rows of desks, making endless (and seemingly useless) notations on paper, are also quite effective. The tension between the individual and the crowd is often noted, as in a creepy scene where tunnel of love riders at an amusement park are harshly exposed, as though in a zoo, at the end of the ride. The plot, the visuals, and the acting all combine to make this an indelible viewing experience, even for people who don't typically like silent films. Directed by King Vidor, who was married to leading lady Boardman at the time. [TCM]

MIDNIGHT (1939)

Charming screwball comedy involving a storybook mingling of the rich and the poor. Once upon a rainy Parisian night, Claudette Colbert arrives in town by train, having lost everything she owned gambling in Monte Carlo. A cab driver, Don Ameche, takes pity on her and offers her a ride and a place to stay; she takes the ride but gets out at a snazzy night spot where she hopes to pull a con job for food, shelter, or more. She sneaks into a society party, passes herself off as a baroness, and makes friends while playing poker. John Barrymore is a bored millionaire who catches on to her con, but admires her abilities; he backs up Colbert's lies by providing her with a suite at a hotel and a trunk full of clothes. In return, he asks that she help him to woo a playboy (Francis Lederer) who is currently wooing Barrymore's wife (Mary Astor). Colbert agrees and joins them all at a weekend house party; meanwhile, Ameche tracks her down and shows up to take her away (thinking he's saving her from herself, I imagine). Instead, she spins more ridiculous stories and makes Ameche seem like a certifiable loon; he can't figure out why the rich folks won't believe anything he says. Very funny complications follow. Hedda Hopper is Stephanie, a society dowager who is throwing the party in the opening scene; Elaine Barrie, Barrymore's wife in real life, gets in one the best lines as she waits to get into the party: "It always rains when Stephanie gives one of her dull parties--even nature weeps." Monty Woolley has a small part in the end as a judge who tries to disentangle all the webs which have been woven, by Colbert and Barrymore and Ameche. Funny, well acted all around, and wonderfully paced, fast without being frantic. One of the best of the classic screwball comedies. [TCM]

THE CASE OF THE LUCKY LEGS (1935)

Yesterday, I reviewed Warren William as Philo Vance; today, I'll look at Warren William as Perry Mason. The Mason movies are very different in tone and content from the more famous TV series with Raymond Burr. The TV episodes always climaxed in the courtroom, but in the two Mason films I've seen so far, we never see the courtroom; Mason is more a traditional movie detective, though played very nearly for laughs, rather like William played Sam Spade in SATAN MET A LADY. In this one, Mason is called in to investigate when the promoter of a beauty contest (the Lucky Legs of the title) runs off with the money; Mason finds his dead body and has to deal with a number of suspects, including the girl who won the contest (Patricia Ellis), her boss (Porter Hall) who has a crush on her and called Mason in the first place, and her boyfriend (Lyle Talbot) who is also a doctor, an important point when the murder weapon is discovered to be a scalpel. Instead of a courtroom ending, Mason gathers the suspects and narrates a flashback to show what really happened. Allen Jenkins is his usual reliable self as Mason's sidekick, and Genevieve Tobin is fine as faithful secretary Della Street. Warren does a good drunk act in the opening scene (imagine Raymnond Burr shambling about, drunkly shouting out witticisms) and Mary Treen (Tilly at the Savings & Loan in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE) has a funny scene as Jenkins' wife. Also with Craig Reynolds (quite handsome as the con man murder victim), Barton MacLane, and Henry O'Neill. It's pretty clear from this movie that William's bland performance as Philo Vance was more a problem with the director or writers rather than with the actor; as Mason, William is loose, funny, and charming. [TCM]

THE DRAGON MURDER CASE (1934)

This is one in a series of movies featuring the sophisticated detective Philo Vance, created by author S. S. Van Dine. I've seen other Vance films with William Powell and James Stephenson; this one has Warren William, who is commonly held to be the weakest of the Vances. At a rather tense cocktail party at the palatial estate of the Stamm family, the man (George Meeker) who is going to marry the lovely Stamm daughter dives into the Dragon Pool and doesn't come out. He is found dead the next day somewhere else on the estate, with what appear to be dragon claw scratches across his chest. Philo Vance is called in on the case and hears rumors of jealousy, madness, and a mythical dragon that inhabits the pool. He solves the case with ease, in a running time of just over an hour. William is OK, but it's true that he doesn't come off as well as Powell. I think part of the problem is the writing--we get virtually no sense of Vance's personality or character; he is fleshed out much more in the earlier Powell film THE KENNEL MURDER CASE and in the original novels. It's like doing a Hildegarde Withers movie without giving Edna May Oliver any insults to make to James Gleason. Eugene Pallette is good as a comic relief police sergeant who keeps saying, "My knowledge of criminology leads me to believe..." before being cut off by William. One of my favorite supporting men of the 30's, Lyle Talbot, is alternately stoic and suspicious as a rival for the affections of the Stamm girl, well played by Margaret Lindsay. Helen Lowell does a nice job as the crazy, cackling Stamm matriarch, and Robert Barrat is good as her drunken son who collects exotic fish which are scattered about the house. The short running time works against the film to the degree that there isn't much time for character development, of Vance or anyone else. The room with dozens of fish bowls and tanks is cool, as is the concept of the Dragon Pool. The mystery itself is fairly easy to follow as it plays out. Ultimately, although I liked Powell better as Vance, I enjoyed this movie more than KENNEL because it was more atmospheric and the story was easier to follow. It makes me want to see more Philo Vance movies, especially CASINO MURDER CASE, which I read and liked very much. [TCM]

THE LATE GEORGE APLEY (1947)

Light satire based on a bestselling novel of the day about a Boston blueblood who finds he must begin to yield to the changing times and manners. Ronald Colman is excellent as the title character in a role he seems born to have played; Apley is a stuffy patriarch determined to run his family (and their personal lives) as he sees fit--the character reminded me occasionally of a cross between Mr. Banks of MARY POPPINS and Mr. Smith of MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS. He also has a great deal of influence in his moneyed neighborhood; he keeps election signs off the commons and questionable literature out of the library. Eventually, he butts up against the times. His daughter (Peggy Cummins) wants to marry a "radical" teacher, and his son (Richard Ney) falls in love with a girl who has the effrontery to come from somewhere other than Boston, though it has been arranged that he will marry a cousin (Vanessa Brown). Colman finds himself giving in here and there and learning a few lessons along the way, though in the end he refuses to give in the on the issue of his son's marriage. There are many witty lines throughout, some made even funnier by the delivery of Mildred Natwick as his even stuffier sister. When Cummins wants to leave the family to see her beau on Thanksgiving Day, Natwick says haughtily, "I never had a young man on Thanksgiving!" Her husband's reply is, "It's too late now." The bedrock of the family philosophy seems summed up by Natwick's remark, "Whenever I'm depressed, I remind myself that I'm an Apley." Other friends and relatives are nicely played by Richard Haydn (Uncle Max from THE SOUND OF MUSIC), Nydia Westman, and Charles Russell. Witty and charming. (Despite the title, Colman remains alive at the movie's end!) [FMC]

EMMA (1932)

This film has a moderately interesting plotline that eventually devolves into a rather musty melodrama. Marie Dressler plays the title character, a housekeeper and caretaker for the somewhat absent-minded inventor Jean Hersholt and his family after Hersholt's wife dies in childbirth. Most of the film takes place after Hersholt's children have grown; Dressler is still in high demand by the spoiled kids to solve their major and minor life problems. When she finally decides to take a long-planned vacation to Niagra Falls, Hersholt tags along and, along the way, he gets up the nerve to ask her to marry him. She does, but their happy days are brief as Hersholt dies soon after the wedding and the kids, who find it hard to believe that their father would have wanted to marry the woman they only think of as a housekeeper, conspire to prove that she forced the marriage, then killed him to get her hands on the family money. Richard Cromwell is the callow and effete son who winds up being Dressler's only ally, but as he comes rushing to be by her side in court, he winds up dead in a plane crash. Will Dressler prevail? Will the children overcome their snobbish and selfish natures to accept Dressler's side as truth? Among the kids are Myrna Loy and prolific B-player George Meeker. John Miljan, who often played slimy lawyers, is the DA. Watchable but slight, mostly recommended for fans of Dressler & Loy. [TCM]

CALL HER SAVAGE (1932)

Pre-Code filmmaking at its scandalous best, and one of Clara Bow's last movies. The somewhat confusing opening, set many years in the past, features a Old West wagon train leader accused of bringing on an Indian attack because of his immoral womanizing. Years later, his wife bears a child by an Indian father. The girl, named Nasa (Bow), who doesn't know the truth about her parentage, grows up to be wild and uncontrollable (we're to assume this is due to her "half-breed" nature). In one rather shocking scene, she flirts with the handsome, passive half-breed lad Moonglow (Gilbert Roland) and when he doesn't respond properly, she whips him across the face and chest. Her father (or the man she assumes is her father) sends her off to Chicago to be tamed at a girl's academy, but her rebellious nature cannot be overcome. A marriage is arranged with the rich but effeminate Tyrell Davis, but Bow counters by eloping with Monroe Owsley, though not before having a hair-pulling catfight with his fiancee, Thelma Todd. It turns out that Owsley has only married her to spite Todd, and their relationship goes downhill quickly, until he drinks himself almost to death. The pregnant Bow leaves him and later turns to prostitution, and her child dies in a fire while Mama is out making the rent money. There is more scandal and tragedy before Bow's dying mother finally tells her the truth about her father; learning this seems to be the one thing that "tames" Bow, and the film ends with Bow about to forge a bond of sorts (perhaps love but perhaps just affection) with dear old Moonglow.

This film is about as wild as 30's movies get. In addition to all the whoring and drinking and miscegenating, we even get a glimpse inside a Greenwich Village bar, supposedly a haven for "poets and anarchists," but actually full of gay customers and campy waiters. Early on, Bow is dressed in a tight white top which clearly shows that she's braless. There are a number of juicy lines. An unfaithful husband defends his wandering ways while he scolds his unfaithful wife: "I pay the bills, I'm allowed a little leeway." Just before the big fight, Thelma Todd says, "I suppose you know you broke up my home," and Bow replies, "I didn't know you were in a home; when did you get out?" A male escort tells Bow that she won't be happy until some man "beats the devil" out of her. The sexual and racial politics are certainly not "PC," but the movie is entertaining and provides an interesting look at silent screen siren Bow, who only made a handful of sound pictures before she retired at 28. [FMC]

REUNION IN FRANCE (1942)

Under this blandly generic title is a fairly interesting propaganda-romance-thriller with a few CASABLANCA-like touches, set in 1940 Paris. Joan Crawford is a snooty fashion plate who is the mistress of governmant man Philip Dorn; she loves her life of parties, high fashion, and being snobbish to the women who work at the dress shop she frequents. While she's gone on vacation, the Nazis invade Paris; when she returns, her pampered life changes when she finds herself being treated as an unwelcome guest in her own house, which the Nazis have taken over, kicking her downstairs (as in, where the help stay). She also slowly comes to believe that Dorn is a Nazi collaborator. One night, Crawford helps an American RAF pilot (John Wayne) escape detection, and through him she winds up signing on to help the Resistance. She takes a job at the dress shop and passes on information and money; there's a nice scene where she tries to get some hidden money out of the padded shoulders of a coat that collaborationist rich bitch Natalie Schafer (Lovey from "Gilligan's Island) wants immediately. There are nice plot twists along the way as Crawford helps get Wayne out of the country.

There's a very effective moment when the camera pans up in a darknened room to show long tables, lit by candles, put together in the shape of a swastika. There's also a cafe (like CASABLANCA'S Rick's) with a black singer (Ira Buck Woods) performing "I'll Be Glad When You're Dead You Rascal You" with a barbed reference to Hitler that the listening Nazis don't get. Reginald Owen is a possible double agent; Albert Basserman, John Carradine, and Howard Da Silva are various Nazi functionaries. Wayne, though top billed with Crawford, winds up mostly as a supporting player. Crawford is quite good, and she gets to wear lots of fancy gowns. Even though she once claimed to hate this film, I think it's one of her better efforts for MGM. [TCM]

TALK OF THE TOWN (1942)

A long and talky comedy of manners and philosophy, aspiring to be something like THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, but not quite making it. Cary Grant plays a labor activist at a local factory who winds up accused of arson and murder when the plant burns down and a foreman is missing and presumed dead. Grant thinks that the owner of the plant set the fire for insurance money, and that the foreman is in on the scheme and is alive and well somewhere; however, Grant can't prove anything and, knowing he won't get a fair trial, he escapes from jail and hides out in an empty house. It turns out that the house is being fixed up by Jean Arthur to rent to a vacationing law professor (Ronald Colman). Colman believes in the power of the letter of the law, and Grant thinks that the human aspect gets all too often overlooked in legal proceedings. Posing as a gardener, Grant engages Colman in some philosophical discussions and a friendship grows between them before the professor discovers Grant's true identity. Grant is soon threatened with lynching and Colman has to buy into Grant's ideas to save him.

Technically, both men are in love with Arthur, but it's the male-bonding relationship that is most important here. Unfortunately, neither Colman nor Grant seem at ease with their characters and Jean Arthur takes the acting honors. Rex Ingram plays Colman's servant; Glenda Farrell is a young woman with whom Colman clumsily flirts in order to get some information about the missing foreman; Lloyd Bridges and Leonid Kinsky have small roles, and an old vaudeville performer named George Watts has a very funny scene as a judge attending a baseball game with Colman and Arthur. There is also an amusing running gag about cooking borscht. Overall, however, not as light on its feet as it should be; it's like a screwball comedy with all the champagne fizz missing. [VHS]

BLONDE INSPIRATION (1941)

Silly B-comedy directed by Busby Berkeley; he was a great and innovative chreographer but as a director, he tends toward the bland. John Shelton is an aspiring writer who thinks of himself as an undiscoverered literary genius. He gets involved with two unscrupulous fellows (Albert Dekker and Charles Butterworth) who run a Western pulp magazine. They are just about to sell the magazine and leave the business when their only writer (Donald Meek) leaves them high and dry in an alcoholic daze (his condition is played for laughs here). Although Shelton thinks the Westens are below him, the editors get him to write an entire issue of stories in one day, with some help from a pretty secretary (Virginia Grey); they also extract money from him to keep the mag afloat until the sale. Farce ensues. In an interesting twist at the end, it turns out that Shelton is not a good literary writer but he's great at the pulps! Shelton is unattractive and uncharismatic, and most of the film is flat and tedious, although you can see Dekker and Butterworth trying hard. Reginald Owen, in a small role as Shelton's uncle, is a bright spot. The plot is basically an uncredited variation on George S. Kaufman's farce, "The Butter and Egg Man," which itself was made into a movie six times, most notably as AN ANGEL FROM TEXAS with Eddie Albert. [TCM]

THE ETERNAL RETURN (1943)

Jean Cocteau wrote this adaptation of the Tristan and Isolde story. Jean Marais (Cocteau's muse and lover, and star of his BEAUTY AND THE BEAST) plays Patrice, a young man who lives a rather carefree life with his rich uncle Marc and assorted other family members, including Marc's sister and her wicked dwarf son (Pieral). Patrice sets out to find his uncle a wife and brings back Nathalie (Madeleine Sologne), who falls for Patrice, not the uncle. The dwarf puts poison in Patrice and Nathalie's drinks, but it's really a love potion she has brought with her from her guardian, and the two fall madly in love. The uncle goes through with the marriage to Nathalie and throws Patrice out; he falls for another woman, also named Nathalie (Junie Astor) but cannot forget his first love, with tragic results for all. As the beginning feels a bit like Beauty and the Beast, the ending conjures up Romeo and Juliet. Marais and Sologne are both high-cheekboned, blonde, Nordic beauties. Though seemingly set in modern times, the movie, especially at its climax, has a timeless, mythic look and feels like many of Cocteau's films--although the director of record isn't Cocteau but Jean Dellannoy. Pieral as the dwarf gives the best performance; Marais looks the part, but his acting is only so-so. [VHS]

A FREE SOUL (1931)

One of an astounding twelve movies that Clark Gable made in 1931, though this is remembered more for Lionel Barrymore's Oscar winning performance. Barrymore is a lawyer who has just gotten gangster Gable off on a charge of murder--it wasn't clear to me if we're supposed to think that Barrymore cheated or was just sharp as a tack. At any rate, Barrymore's "free soul" daughter (Norma Shearer) meets the dashing Gable and the two hit it off; their first date is marked by an assassination attempt against Gable! The family snubs Gable and isn't all that happy with Barrymore, mostly because of his drinking. When Barrymore finds out about his daughter's affair, he tries to force her to break it off. She agrees to leave Gable if her father will stop drinking, so they go off together on a long trip to the wilderness, accompanied only by Barrymore's faithful assistant, James Gleason. The trip brings father and daughter closer, but as soon as they return to civilization, Barrymore gets drunk, so Shearer goes back to Gable, who threatens her with violence if she tries to leave him again. Leslie Howard, an admirer of Shearer's, winds up killing Gable, and the last scene takes place in the courtroom as Barrymore makes one last heroic stand to save Howard. This scene is considered a tour de force for Barrymore, but I find it fairly typical for him--a mix of hamminess and solid acting. Shearer overdoes the facial expressions, as though she's still emoting for the silent screen, but she and Gable definitely have chemistry. [TCM]

OF MICE AND MEN (1939)

Beautifully acted version of the classic John Steinbeck story. Burgess Meredith is a migrant farm worker who travels with his cousin, Lon Chaney Jr. Meredith is a philosophical type but also a realist; Chaney is a gentle but retarded giant of a man who occasionally forgets his own strength--he likes to pet small, soft things, like rabbits, but not realizing his strength, he sometimes goes overboard and hurts or kills his object of affection. The two are frequently on the run after Chaney unintentionally causes trouble. At the beginning of the movie, they find work on a ranch run by Bob Steele (later one of the Three Mesquiteers of B-Western fame), a cruel but weak man. The two become friendly with most of the ranch hands, and Meredith feeds the hopes of Chaney and others by spinning pipe dreams about living an easy life on a rabbit ranch. Eventually, Chaney gets caught between Steele and his unsatisified wife, Betty Field, and the two must go on the run again. Meredith, realizing things will never get better for or with Chaney, must decide between letting Chaney go to jail for life, or putting him out of his misery through mercy-killing. Although you do come to care about several of the characters, and the last few minutes are emotionally affecting, much of the movie feels more like a fable than a real-life story. This is Chaney's one great performance before he got mired in B-horror films. If you've only seen him in those movies, this will be a revelation. The cast also features Charles Bickford and Noah Beery Jr., and there is lots of human/animal symbolism, especially in a particularly sad incident involving an old man and his sick dog. I'm more a cat person than a dog person, but it still brought tears to my eyes, as did the ending. [DVD]

DIVORCE ITALIAN STYLE (1961)

Nowadays, many mainstream comedies have a dark edge, but in the early 60's, the black comedy in film was, I suspect, something fairly new. In this early example of the genre, Marcello Mastroianni plays a member of an old Siclian family which has fallen on hard times. He's stuck in a marriage with a woman (Daniela Rocca) who is constanly demanding attention and affection, and he finds himself in love with his 16-year-old cousin (Stefania Sandrelli) who lives just across the courtyard from him (and on whom more than one frustrated man spies). Just as it seems that she's interested in him, her father sends her off to a convent school, but Mastroianni is determined to have her eventually. Divorce was not legal in Sicily, but he realizes that the code of male honor would allow him to get rid of his wife by killing her if he caught her cheating on him, so he sets out to set up just such a situation. An old boyfriend of Rocca's (Leopoldo Trieste) turns up in town and Mastroianni helps them rekindle their old feelings, although the sexy maid almost derails the plans by setting her cap for Trieste herself. Further complications arise when we discover that Trieste's wife has a similar plan in mind. Even though some people do wind up dead, and some not as happy as they imagined they might be, the movie keeps a light tone throughout. Early on, Mastroianni imagines some scenarios in which his wife would drown in quicksand or get caught in the middle of a Mafia shootout, and he imagines what the judge will say at his future trial for murder. There's a fun reference to Mastroianni's previous film, LA DOLCE VITA--when the scandalous film comes to town, the entire populace shows up to watch it, including Mastroianni. This comedy of murder and morals won't seem shocking to today's viewers, but I imagine it must have been 40 years ago. The director, Pietro Germi, won an Oscar for co-writing the screenplay and was nominated for direction. [TCM]

THE CRUSADES (1935)

Cecil B. DeMille's patented mix of sex, religion, and epic narrative works fairly well here, though at two hours, it's about 20 minutes too long. According to some sources, DeMille got a few historical details right but the movie puts entertainment over history (as Hollywood always does). Henry Wilcoxon is Richard the Lionheart, not a particularly noble king, who is anxious to get out of an arranged marriage with the sister of the King of France. His way out comes when a zealous old man known as the Hermit (C. Aubrey Smith) arrives from the Holy Land with stories of the barbarities of the Muslim invaders. Richard joins the Crusade because doing so releases him of any worldly vows that might stop him from going, such as his future marriage. Along the way, he agrees to marry the daughter of the King of Navarre, sight unseen, to get food for his army; assuming this to be just a ceremonial thing, he sends his minstrel (Alan Hale) to the wedding with his sword as a stand-in for him; this detail apparently has some factual basis. However, when he gets an eyeful of her (Loretta Young), he is happy to be her flesh-and-blood mate. As the Christian army tries to force its way into Jerusalem, Young is kidnapped by the Sultan Saladin (Ian Keith), for whom she had expressed respect earlier. After some typical DeMille-style battles, a peace is achieved, partly through Young's diplomacy. Joseph Schildkraut is the villainous Conrad of Montferrat; Katharine DeMille (Cecil's adopted daughter) is the French princess and C. Henry Gordon is her father. Like THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, this has scenes of spectacle alternating with scenes of awkwardly staged dialogue; the more intimate the scene, the more awkwardly it plays out. Wilcoxon and Young look their parts, but never truly seem interested in each other. Ian Keith as the somewhat sympathetic bad guy is the standout actor here. I got a nice chuckle out of the Christian slave girls with their incredibly long and shiny hair, but this is not a camp-heavy affair. [TCM]

MARIE ANTOINETTE (1938)

Long and fairly engrossing biographical epic with a lot of very familiar faces. Norma Shearer plays Marie, whom we first see as a young girl of royalty chosen to marry the heir to the throne of France, Louis XVI (Robert Morley). She's beautiful and full of life, he's chubby and awkward and, apparently, impotent. Much depends on the production of a son, and when none is forthcoming, there is nasty gossip aimed at Shearer. The current king's mistress, Madame DuBarry (Gladys George), sends Shearer a "gift" of an empty cradle, and Shearer then insults George in public; the King (John Barrymore) threatens to have the marriage annulled but he dies before he can arrange it. Shearer falls in love with a dashing Count (Tyrone Power) and soon bears a son--I wasn't sure if we were to infer that the son was sired by Power or that Morley's impotence was cured somehow by the King's death. An affair involving Shearer supposedly spending state money on an extravagant necklace while the French people are starving causes her to lose public sympathy, and when the revolution comes, the people's fury leads to the deaths of both Shearer and Morley. The political situation is never made very clear; despite the importance of the mood of the times, we get only a cursory sense of why she was the target of such wrath. The script does not demonize her and Shearer plays her quite sympathetically. She is especially good toward the end when she's thrown in prison and her son is taken from her. George is very good as DuBarry, and the strong supporting cast includes Joseph Schildkraut (as the conniving Duke of Orleans), Henry Stephenson, Reginald Gardiner, George Zucco, Anita Louise, Henry Daniell, and Cecil Cunningham. It's fun to hear Barrymore say, "After me, the deluge," but I waited in vain for Shearer to say, "Let them eat cake." Great costumes and sets; I imagine if this had been shot in color, it would have a stronger reputation today. [TCM]

LORD BYRON OF BROADWAY (1930)

A primitive early musical; the production numbers, in color, are fairly well executed but the rest is a long haul to get through and there is sometimes an amateurish air about the proceedings. The biggest amateur of them all is leading man Charles Kaley who deservedly remained an unknown, with only one other feature film to his credit. To be fair, his character is a tough nut to crack. He plays Roy, a pianist in a bar, who gets a big break when Cliff Edwards (later the voice of Jiminy Cricket in Disney's PINOCCHIO) sings some songs he wrote. The two form a partnership, joined by pianist Marion Shilling, whom Kaley discovers in a music shop. It's established that Kaley is a heel, carrying on affairs with women seemingly only to get songwriting inspiration from them, then dumping them and moving on. As the trio hit the big time, he's sweet on Shilling for a while, but then gets his head turned by sexy singer Ethelind Terry. He drops Shilling, not realizing that Terry is actually Edwards' wife, though they're separated. Things take a melodramatic turn with the death of one character, and eventually Kaley, his composing talent apparently gone, sees the error of his ways and manages to turn his life around. Kaley is almost thoroughly unlikeable all the way through; the stiffness of the actor stops us from having any sympathy for him and the weak writing doesn't allow us to get any real handle on why he is the way he is. Shilling is marginally better, but Edwards, who fleshes out his character a bit, is the real attraction here and he gives a delightful rendition of "Japanese Sandman." Full blooded comic relief is provided by Benny Rubin as Edwards' Jewish manager--his ethnicity is trumpted at full volume, but Rubin is consistently funny and comes to life as well as any of the other characters. Most of the songs are by Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed, of "Singin' in the Rain" fame. Of interest mostly as a novelty, or for Cliff Edwards fans. [TCM]

GOD IS MY CO-PILOT (1945)

A WWII story based on the autobiography of Col. Robert L. Scott who flew with the Flying Tigers in China during the early days of the war. Apparently, the Tigers were a group of American volunteers who signed up by contract to fight the Japanese for the Chinese in the late 30's, before Pearl Harbor got our country "officially" into the war. Dennis Morgan plays Scott, an Army Air Corps man who, because he is told he is too old to fly in the Corps, winds up with the Tigers. At first there is some tension and resentment, but soon he comes to respect them. Raymond Massey is Gen. Chennault, the founder of the group; Alan Hale is Big Mike, the very Irish missionary priest who helps inspire Morgan to accept the belief that God is taking a hand in his exploits; Dane Clark is a doomed pilot; Richard Loo, who later played Master Sun in the TV show KUNG FU, is Tokyo Joe, a Japanese pilot who baits the Americans over the radio; Andrea King is Morgan's wife whom we see in flashbacks at home in Georgia. Also with John Ridgely and Craig Stevens. Episodic and cliche-ridden, but fast-moving. [TCM]


WEST OF SHANGHAI (1937)

Totally undistinguished B-melodrama based on what was at the time an old warhorse of a story, adapted from a play, "The Bad Man," which was filmed four times between 1923 and 1941. The orginal play was set in Mexico, but this version takes place in China. Boris Karloff is Wu Yen Fang, a warlord and leader of bandits who terrorizes villages with his men. He holds a group of American businesspeople hostage but then discovers that one of them (Gordon Oliver) is someone he knew in the past and owes his life to. Further incomprehensible plot complications occur involving land and oil and love and jealousy. Beverly Roberts is a woman who wants to leave her bad guy husband, Ricardo Cortez, for Oliver. Karloff eventually does the right thing for his old friend, but winds up killed by another faction of bandits, or something like that, I think. Karloff and Cortez are the main reasons for watching. Also with Richard Loo (see above) in a small role. [TCM]

PUBLIC WEDDING (1937)

An early Jane Wyman comedy, back when she was mighty frisky. The movie is built around a brief fad involving weddings to which the public at large was invited (for an admission fee), often followed by a big dinner at a nearby restaurant. Wyman and her father (Berton Churchill) are carnival workers; their attraction is Moloch, a huge stuffed whale head. Just as they are about to have everything they own repossessed, they come up with the idea of having a fake "public wedding" in the mouth of the whale. After much money is collected, two of Churchill's workers run off with the cash, leaving Wyman stranded at the whale...er, at the altar. She finds a beachcombing artist (William Hopper) to play the groom, but unbeknownst to them, the new justice of the peace is real and they discover that they are legally hitched. Wyman, fed up with the carny life, splits from her father and a battle-of-the-wits war of publicity stunts follows between Wyman (helped by Hopper) and Churchill, aided by Dick Purcell and Marie Wilson. As a stunt, Wyman promotes Hopper's art, and it turns out he really does have talent. Clearly, the filmmakers were trying for a screwball feel here, but the B-movie trappings (including the fairly bland leading man) hurt the film. Nevertheless, with a short running time, it's painless fun most of the time. Wyman and Wilson are both good. Also in the cast: B-queen Veda Ann Borg and Eddie 'Rochester' Anderson. [TCM]

WHILE THE PATIENT SLEPT (1935)

This is the first of three B-mysteries based on the character Nurse Sarah Keate created by author Mignon Eberhart. They don't crop up too often, but I was pleased to see this one air on Turner Classic Movies not long after I had read the orginal novel. It's one of the few times that a film adaptation has done justice to a book. The whodunit plot is rather convoluted but the acting and atmosphere make the film worthwhile. Aline MacMahon is Nurse Sarah, who has been called in to take care of a ailing man who has lapsed into a coma just as his relatives are gathering at his mansion on the outskirts of town. Guy Kibbee is cop Lance O'Leary who shows up to investigate the murder of one of the relatives. There's a jade elephant that keep disappearing and reappearing, a murder commited with a violin string, and a fair amount of comic behavior from the two leads and Allen Jenkins. Lyle Talbot is the handsome red herring. The bantering relationship between the nurse and the cop is rather like the one between Hildegarde Withers and the inspector in PENGUIN POOL MYSTERY. As I recall from the book, the old house itself is as memorable as any of the characters and the movie does a good job bringing the place to life. Kibbee seems a bit too old for the cop, but MacMahon is great fun. The second in the series, PATIENT IN ROOM 18 has Ann Sheridan and Patrick Knowles, taking the characters in a much younger direction. The third is MYSTERY HOUSE with Sheridan and Dick Purcell. A fourth film, MURDER BY AN ARISTOCRAT, is based on the same character but gives her a slightly different name. [TCM]

THE MAGNIFICENT YANKEE (1950)

The life of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, based on a play and presented much like a play, or a pageant of historical tableux, or a junior-high filmstrip. Despite the static production, the film does hold your attention, mostly thanks to the fine acting of Louis Calhern as Holmes and Ann Harding as his wife. Most of the film takes place in their home in Washington, in episodes that mark the passage of time. First, just after he has been appointed to the Supreme Court, we see them buying the house in what today would be a "meet cute" scene (except that they're already married) in which it becomes clear that she has already signed the paperwork but is letting her husband think that he has a say in the matter. They settle into the house and Washington life, and soon discover that they cannot have children, so Holmes takes to calling his male secretaries (sent over each year from Yale Law School) his "sons"; this leads to a touching tribute scene near the end. We see some of Holmes' defeats and victories, but we don't really get a strong sense of what he stood for. Eduard Franz is Louis Brandeis, a fellow justice; Philip Ober is Owen Wister, friend of Holmes' and author of the "The Virginian," who is also the narrator; Ian Wolfe is Henry Adams, who is usually on the other side of the political and philosophical fence from Holmes. Among the "sons" whom old movie buffs might recognize are Todd Karns, Richard Anderson, and Jimmy Lydon. Stodgy and drab in execution, but worth watching for Calhern and Harding. [TCM]

Three Hildegarde Withers mysteries:
PENGUIN POOL MURDER (1932)
MURDER ON THE BLACKBOARD (1934)
MURDER ON A BRIDLE PATH (1936)

There were six Hildegarde Withers movies made between 1932 and 1937, average-budget programmers featuring a "spinster" schoolteacher who just happens to get caught up in murder investigations in which she manages to outwit the police, specifically Inspector Piper. Though Withers and Piper both come off as rather cold and brittle, an affectionate relationship develops between them. Three actresses played Hildegarde over the years, though the inspector was always played by James Gleason. By far, the best was Edna May Oliver, who introduced the character in PENGUIN POOL MURDER. After some choppy scenes of exposition, we catch up with Hildegarde and her grade school class on a field trip at a New York City aquarium, where a dead body is found in the penguin pool. The efficient Miss Withers is on the case right away, helping to nab a purse snatcher (who may or may not have something to do with the murder) and keep track of clues for the inspector. The somewhat convoluted plot involves the possible financial ruin of the aquarium director, and an affair between the dead man's wife (Mae Clarke) and another man (Donald Cook). After the lovers are arrested, Clarke's lawyer (Robert Armstrong, the explorer in KING KONG) gets involved, but it takes the unstoppable Hildegarde to sort out the real clues from the red herrings. The plotting and characterizations feel like second-rate Agatha Christie, but Oliver and Gleason make the movie worth seeing.

At the end of PENGUIN, Withers and Piper get engaged, but in the following movie, MURDER ON THE BLACKBOARD, they are just casually dating. In this one, a music teacher is found dead at Hildegarde's school. Suspects include the teacher's roommate (Gertrude Michael) who is secretary to the old but lusty principal (Tully Marshall), and Michael's boyfriend (Bruce Cabot) who had dated the dead girl in the past. There's also a drunken janitor who gets around the school building through secret passages, but he's too obvious a suspect to be the the real villain. Oliver and Gleason remain good reasons to watch; other cast members include Regis Toomey, Jackie Searl, and Gustav von Seyffertitz as a crime lab technician (shades of CSI). The best line: when Hildegarde tells the inspector, "Stop acting like a movie detective!" BRIDLE PATH is a later entry in which Helen Broderick takes over the role of Miss Withers, and as much as I like Broderick in other films, like TOP HAT and THE BRIDE WALKS OUT, she can't fill Oliver's shoes. The plot involves murder among the upper crust as an heiress is found dead on a horse riding path in Central Park; suspects include her ex-husband, a stable boy, and a man who was sweet on the dead girl's sister. The opening and closing are good, but the middle is rough going and Broderick is just too colorless in the central role. Zasu Pitts also played the character, but I haven't seen either of her films. [TCM]

LILLY TURNER (1933)

Spoliers included!!
This is an interesting pre-Code film with a good performance by Ruth Chatterton. As was the case with many pre-Code heroines, Chatterton is an fairly naive young girl who has to wise up fast. We get almost no background about her except that she's from Buffalo, and the movie begins as she marries a handsome fast-talking fellow (Gordon Westcott) who is referred to as an actor in the wedding scene, but is actually a fading vaudevillian. He and Chatterton wind up working for a carnival and she soon finds out that her husband is a scoundrel--and a bigamist. He leaves Chatterton while she's pregnant and nice guy alcoholic Frank McHugh offers to marry her. They're friends and the arrangement seems strictly for convenience. They join up with a traveling "medicine" show and Chatterton meets handsome George Brent, an engineer who is working as a taxi driver because he can't get a job (the Depression, you know). He joins the show and they wind up in something approaching a threesome (with McHugh as essentially a platonic friend) which goes along swell for a while, until a crazy German strong man (Robert Barrat) who had a thing for Lilly, escapes from an asylum and threatens to ruin everyone's lives.

The downward arc of the self-sacrificing woman is nothing new--for me, what was new in the film happened at the very end. Just as Brent has accepted an engineering job in New Mexico and is planning on leaving with Chatterton, the crazy German returns and throws McHugh out of a window, fracturing his spine. Chatterton (not surprisingly) decides she owes it to McHugh to stay with him. The more surprising thing is that Brent decides to turn down the job and stay with Chatterton, implying that their technically adulterous threesome will continue. Not exactly the happiest ending for anyone, but an interesting one that would have been banned by the code a year later. The acting was good all around, with Chatterton seeming particularly "modern," eschewing heightened melodramatics, for the most part. Brent is as good as I've ever seen him, and he looks at times like Ronald Reagan. McHugh, who I always like, is fine, as is Barrat and Guy Kibbee as the owner of the medicine show. Also with Grant Mitchell and Ruth Donnelly. Many published critics don't like this one, but I found it to be better than many similar films of the era and was glad to have seen it. [TCM]

BEAUTY FOR SALE (1933)

This plays like a pre-Code, non-musical version of a "Gold Diggers" movie, or more precisely like a non-show biz STAGE DOOR, in its plot specifics and trajectories. We follow the stories of three young women who work for Madame Sonia (Hedda Hopper) at her high class beauty parlor. Madge Evans is Letty, who, after the death of her father, lives for a time with her friend Carol (Una Merkel). Eddie Nugent is Merkel's wisecracking kid brother who has the hots for Evans, but she falls into an affair with a married man (Otto Kruger). Merkel sets her sights on a rich older man, while Jane, another salon worker (Florine McKinney), hides her fling with the boss's son (Phililps Holmes). There are some soap opera complications which involve an unwanted pregnancy and suicide (and a great and very modern looking shot of the poor girl when she finds out that her unborn baby's father has fled after promising to marry her). Once that plot winds up, the rest of the film is considerably lighter in tone. Other notable cast members include May Robson as Merkel's mother and Alice Brady as Kruger's cold and unthinking wife. Nugent's obnoxious puns are sort of fun ("No harm will come to that, as the the man said about the crosseyed old maid!"). Even for a pre-Code film, the references to premarital sex are surprisingly clear, and not everyone who engages is such activity winds up punished. Actingwise, Evans and Kruger, the central couple, are the weak links, but the film is worth seeing. [TCM]

AH, WILDERNESS! (1935)

This MGM adaptation of a Eugene O'Neill coming-of-age comedy feels like it might have been the inspiration for MGM's Andy Hardy series which began two years later. The episodic film is set in a small American town and covers two important events during the summer of 1906: high school graduation and the 4th of July celebration. Eric Linden is Dick, the graduate with a slightly inflated (and melodramatic) sense of self. He wants to give a rabble-rousing anti-establishment speech but is flummoxed out of it by his well-intentioned father (Lionel Barrymore). Later, Linden tries to expose his girlfriend (Cecila Parker) to the erotic poetry of Swinburne, but gets in trouble with her father (Charley Grapewin). He also catches hell for reading Shaw and Wilde. In the climactic episode, he goes off with a college-age friend of his brother's on a double date and winds up sadder but wiser in the company of a "loose woman of the world" (Helen Flint). Other subplots are provided by a large supporting cast: Wallace Beery, who gets top billing, is an alcoholic uncle (played for sympathetic laughs) who can't quite keep a steady job without the help of Barrymore; Aline MacMahon is an aunt with an abiding affection for Beery; Spring Byington is the mother (coming off like a down-to-earth Billie Burke-type); Frank Albertson is the older brother; Mickey Rooney and Bonita Granville are the younger siblings. Linden is in a bit over his head with all the overacting pros around him, but both the character and the film have interesting edgy qualities that the Andy Hardy films lacked. The first Hardy film, A FAMILY AFFAIR, from 1937, featured Rooney, Barrymore, Linden, Byington, Parker, and Grapewin. This seems to have been Linden's last big major-studio role. [TCM]

THE DAWN PATROL (1930)

Along with ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT and THE EAGLE AND THE HAWK, this is one of the great WWI movies. It's often described as "anti-war," but the reasons for fighting are not really questioned. I think in its time, it would have been seen more as a thought-provoking portrayal of how men deal (or fail to deal) with looking death in the face day after day. Based on a short story, this feels like a stage play, with almost all the action taking place in an isolated pilots' outpost in France. It's not made to seem particularly claustrophobic, but the men are far from the nearest town and any non-military social contact. Richard Barthelmess and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. are best friends and gung-ho pilots, and we see how the daily casualty reports and constant turnover of new inexperienced pilots gets to them after a while, blunting their bravado. They focus their fear into resentment at Neil Hamilton, their commanding officer, who doesn't have to fly himself but does have to make the daily decisions about whom to send up on missions in which, inevitably, some will not return. After Hamilton is reassigned, Barthelmess becomes commander and has to make the hard choices. When Fairbanks' kid brother (William Janney) arrives and gets sent up to certain death, the relationship between Barthelmess and Fairbanks is strained. In the end, Barthelmess gets Fairbanks drunk and substitutes for him on what amounts to a suicide mission. The film ends with Fairbanks as the new commander.

Most of the dialogue scenes feel a bit stagy but the aerial scenes are exciting and expertly handled (under Howard Hawks' direction). Even though Hamilton's anguish is a bit overdone, the rest of the acting is solid, especially Gardner James as Hollister, a pilot who is particularly affected by the deaths of his buddies. Frank McHugh has a small role. The song "Hurrah for the Next Man to Die" is used effectively throughout, indicative of the way most of the men give in to the idea of inevitable fate. Another interesting thematic element (also explored in other WWI films) is the admiration that both the German and British fliers have for each other, saluting a fallen enemy pilot has he spins down to certain death. The film was remade in 1938, using some of the same aerial footage, with very few changes in look or plot. The acting in the later version is more palatable to modern tastes, with Errol Flynn and David Niven as the two central friends, and Basil Rathbone as the commander--he comes off a bit less sympathetically than Hamilton, perhaps because of his stern screen persona. Both versions are worth seeing. [TCM]

FINGERS AT THE WINDOW (1942)

Spoilers included!! A light, frothy B-thriller which feels like it was an attempt to build a series around Lew Ayres and Laraine Day. It's fun enough, but there were no sequels. Chicago's streets are deserted at night because of a string of axe murders; the killers are always caught at the scene, but they can't explain why they committed the crime--they can only speak gibberish to the police. One night, out-of-work actor Ayres saves Day from an axe attack; he appoints himself as protector to Day and sure enough there is a second attempt on her life, which he also foils. Ayres turns amateur detective and goes undercover, discovering all the captured killers are on file at the local asylum. It turns out that Basil Rathbone, a man Day had been engaged to in Paris some time ago, is masquerading as a dead psychiatrist in an attempt to get his money, and is "masterminding" the killings (of people who could stand in his way) through hypnosis or drugs--it's never clear how he does it. There's a nice noirish feel to much of the film, set mostly at night. The climax has that rushed B-movie feeling like they all just ran out of time. Ayres and Day (who appeard in several Dr. Kildare movies together) have a nice chemistry. Rathbone is a bit of a disappointment, mostly because he doesn't have much to do. Also with Russell Gleason (son of actor James Gleason) as a reporter. [TCM]


THE CASE OF THE BLACK PARROT (1941)

Another B-mystery with a "series" feel to it. William Lundigan is newspaper reporter Jim Moore (an awfully bland name for a character with sequel potential); Eddie Foy Jr. is Tripod, his photographer sidekick. On a transatlantic liner, they get wrapped up in some strange gongs-on involving a fake antique dresser which was made by the Black Parrot, a famous forger. It's discovered, however, that the dresser is *not* a fake. Back in the U.S., a stream of (supposedly) colorful characters passes through the house of Charles Waldron, the man who is trying to return the dresser to its rightful owner. It turns out there are letters in a drawer that a titled lady wants back; a Scotland Yard inspector (Paul Cavanaugh) enters the case and there are a couple of deaths before the climax, which involves a clever identity twist. Lundigan and Foy are OK as long as you only have B-movie expectations. Maris Wrixon is a bland love interest. Lundigan is handsome and affable, but not quite charismatic enough to have had Warners turn this into a series. [TCM]

UNDER CAPRICORN (1949)

A Hitchcock period melodrama, like his earlier JAMAICA INN. It's not very well regarded by critics, but despite some weak stretches, it's interesting enough to see once. Michael Wilding, a young man from a monied background but with no visible means of support, arrives in Australia (in 1830) with his uncle, the new governor of New South Wales. He gets involved in the affairs of his cousin (Ingrid Bergman) who, for all intents and purposes, seems stuck in an unhappy marriage with Joseph Cotten, a former convict who has made a decent living since his release, though he is snubbed by the "high society" types. Bergman is a barely functioning alcoholic and Wilding assumes that it's Cotten's fault, as he comes off as hard and uncaring, but the truth of their situation is more complicated. (Some critics have said that the movie is about a woman who suffers under her sadistic and cruel husband, but they clearly didn't watch the whole movie!) There are echoes of REBECCA and SUSPICION, though the atmosphere is never gloomy and menacing enough to get any real tension going. There are many long single-take shots (a technique that Hitchcock had apparently not gotten out of his system with ROPE the year before) and many of them work quite well, especially an astonishing seven-minute take which follows Wilding as he arrives at Cotten's house for dinner and peeks through a series of windows to get a glimpse of the dysfunctional dynamics going on inside. Margaret Leighton is the sinister housekeeper; she's good but not as effective as Judith Anderson was in REBECCA--who could be? The film is in rich Technicolor, with lots of lovely blues, golds, and browns. Dramatically undernourished, up to and including an anti-climactic climax, but still worth seeing. [DVD]

NIGHT AND THE CITY (1950)

Film noir at its noirest. It's a brutal film set in London in the world of wrestling promoters. The opening shot is very similar to that of the same year's THE ASPHALT JUNGLE: we see a man running from unseen persuers through shadowy city streets. In this film, it's Richard Widmark, a small-time American hood who does menial work for club owner Francis L. Sullivan. Widmark has big ideas but no brains or other helpful resources--aside from being able to finagle small sums of money from his long-suffering girl friend Gene Tierney (in a small and totally thankless role). He is described by casual friend Hugh Marlowe as "an artist without an art." Widmark decides to get into the wrestling world by promoting Greco-Roman matches with an aging wrestler (Stanislaus Zbyszko) and his young protege. To get seed money, he cons Sullivan's wife (Googie Withers) out of some dough by selling her a forged nightclub license so she can open her own club and get away from her husband. Wrestling big wig Herbert Lom (who is also Zbyszko's son) doesn't think much of Widmark, and later, when Lom's father runs into trouble, Lom blames Widmark, sealing the hood's fate. The only non-sleazy characters are the incredibly colorless Tierney and Marlowe, who aren't really part of Widmark's world. The climactic wrestling scene is powerful and looks painfully real. The acting is solid, especially Sullivan and Withers as a couple stuck inextricably in the hell of each other. The movie has noir atmosphere to burn: shadows, grimacing faces in close-up, and lots of sweat and seediness. [FMC]

THEY CALL IT SIN (1932)

Pre-Code romantic melodrama which retains some interest for its plot and cast. Loretta Young is a young woman from Merton, Kansas who plays the organ at the church and aspires to be a songwriter. David Manners is a New York businessman stuck overnight in Merton. As nothing is open in town on Sunday morning, he wanders into church and catches Young's eye; he hangs around town a few extra days and soon, they're having a little dalliance despite the fact that he has a fiancee (Helen Vinson) back home in the big city. After he leaves, Young has a falling out with her parents; it turns out that she was actually the illegitimate daughter of a chorus girl who had been stranded in Kansas some years ago. Young lights out for NYC and is distressed to find out about Vinson, but she makes other friends: a big hearted chorus girl (Una Merkel in her patented best friend role), a high society doctor (George Brent), and a big-shot Broadway producer (Louis Calhern). As Young begins to make headway in a musical career, Calhern tries to seduce her, which leads to betrayal, theft, and an accidental death. As is often the case with 30's films like this, the narrative wraps up too quickly and perfunctorily, but otherwise it's not a bad little film. Young and Brent are fine, Merkel is wonderful, and Manners is handsome. Roscoe Karns has a nice short bit, and I laughed at the spit take when Manners announces to his friends that he met the sexy Young in church. [TCM]

LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE (1934)

Moderately interesting attempt to mix comedy and mystery that doesn't quite come off. In the convoluted but effective opening, police are called to an apparent murder scene; two policemen go missing (though actually they're stuck in the sewer system) and the story makes headlines, even though no dead bodies are found. The night's events happen in front of the house of rich gadabout Ben Lyon. He and his buddy Skeets Gallagher wake up the next morning (in the same bed) after a drunken night on the town. Once he's up and around, Lyon discovers two houseguests: a fan dancer (Pert Kelton) and her "mamager" (Walter Catlett). Lyon bumped them with his car the night before (a bit of drunken driving humor that certainly would not fly today!) and they fake injuries to see how much they can milk Lyon for. Lyon's fiancee (Thelma Todd) comes visiting with her military father and they mistake Kelton for a picked-up floozy. Soon, Lyon's aunt (Laura Hope Crews) shows up and an unidentified madman darts in and out of the story; mistaken identities and con jobs pile up quickly. Chick Chandler is a wide-eyed reporter who goes around saying, "What a story!" and forgetting that he has a pencil behind his ear. Kelton (Shirley Jones' mother in THE MUSIC MAN) and Crews (Aunt Pittypat in GONE WITH THE WIND) are fun, but Lyon is too wooden, and it's awfully hard to care about the outcome of all the shenanigans. [TCM]

DRUMS OF FU MANCHU (1940 serial)

I have long been fascinated with the movie serials of the 30's and 40's; I've read at least two books about them and watched bits and pieces of several serials over the years. In the abstract, I still think the idea of an adventure movie, presented in theaters in short episodes spread out over several weeks, is a cool one, partly because I'm a sucker for nostalgia, especially for things that I wasn't able to experience first-hand. In practice, however, watching these movies in the home video format is difficult. They are incredibly formulaic and repetitive and I can't watch more than a couple of episodes at one sitting (even though each "chapter" is only about 20 minutes long). If I try to watch one chapter a week, I forget where I am in the plotline--which, I realize, is ultimately not that important in enjoying these movies. Before this DVD, I had tried watching 4 or 5 other serials and failed before I got halfway through any of them. DRUMS, however, has a reputation as one of the best of the old serials, and VCI put out a semi-restored 2-disc set last year, so I girded my loins and plunged in. It's taken a few months, but I can finally say I've finished a movie serial!

I must admit to a very un-PC affection for Fu Manchu, the insidious "yellow peril" villain featured in a series of stories and books (from 1912 through the 50's) written by Sax Rohmer. In the books, he's a mysterious and powerful figure often out for world domination. The 1932 Boris Karloff film THE MASK OF FU MANCHU succeeded quite well in bringing him to life. This serial from Republic Pictures had, I imagine, a lower budget (despite being four times longer than the Karloff movie) and, as with most of the serials done on the cheap, atmosphere takes a bit of a hit, with rather silly costumes, bad day-for-night filming, and occasional tell-tale cardboardish sets. But if you lower your expectations, it works fairly well. The first few chapters are devoted to a race between Fu and the British government (represented by Sir Nayland Smith and his buddies) to put together a broken map (in stone) in order to find the long-hidden tomb of Gengis Kahn. Once that's found, Fu steals Kahn's scepter in an attempt to wield great power in the East and start a war against the West (essentially the same plot as the 1932 movie). The good guys and bad guys seesaw back and forth in holding the upper hand; usually each chapter ends with a good guy seemingly about to bite the dust, but the next chapter begins with a reversal of fortune. There are some nice touches along the way, such as Fu's daughter scamming some natives into believing that a giant statue has come to life, and there are some silly touches as well, such as the title "drums" that beat loudly (and apparently telepathically) whenever Fu is about to commit mischief. The acting is about par for the B-movie course. Robert Kellard is hunky enough as the action hero Alan Parker, young assistant to Sir Nayland; Luana Walters is the plucky heroine (though she drops out of the movie about halfway through); William Royle is a rather drab Sir Nayland; Dwight Frye has a very small role in one chapter as a museum director. Fu is played by Henry Brandon, usually a reliable villain in B-movies (though I know him best as Acacius Page, the nudist teacher in AUNTIE MAME), but here he is clearly too young to play such a hardened bad guy, and the Oriental makeup is barely serviceable. He gives most of his lines a rather campy inflection, though it probably didn't sound that way in 1940. Still, it's all about what you expect. If you don't expect too much, this provides some good adventure fun, especially in the first and last few chapters. The print is OK and the DVD comes with a nice booklet on the history of Fu Manchu. [DVD]

FROM THE TERRACE (1960)

Slick soap opera in that glossy, colorful, widescreen style that was popular in the late 50's and early 60's. For me, these movies date much more than films of the 30's and 40's. Its primary assets now are well-appointed sets, good use of color, and the smoldering presence of Paul Newman. The story begins with Newman coming home from WWII to the Philadelphia home of his rich parents. His mother (Myrna Loy) has, because of husbandly neglect, become a drunk and taken a lover; his father (Leon Ames) wants him to follow in his footsteps in the family business, but Newman heads to New York with buddy George Grizzard to start fresh. Once set up in the city with some good contacts, Newman meets the lovely but rather icy Joanne Woodward and steals her away from her fiancé (Patrick O'Neal). His business prospects aren't so hot, but eventually Newman stumbles into success when he helps save the life of a child who had fallen into an icy pond and the kid's grandfather (Felix Aylmer) gives him a job. With Newman devoting most of his time and energy to his work, he and Woodward start to drift apart and she slips into seeing her old flame on the side. Young wholesome Ina Balin comes into Newman's life and he decides that there are other things than money and property that make life worth living. The climax occurs at a board meeting when Aylmer is about to make Newman the youngest partner in the company's history, but Newman expresses other ideas. The story of the parents is front and center for the first 15 minutes, and Ames and Loy make it compelling (with Ames basically playing a harder, updated version of his Mr. Smith character in MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS), but they drop out of the movie quickly. Most of the other characters aren't very interesting (though Newman and Woodward are both easy on the eyes). The writing is fairly weak, with people saying things to explain their behavior that they would never say out loud in real life; this seems to me to be a matter of inept literary adaptation (based on a John O'Hara novel). Look for Barbara Eden in a tiny role early on. The anti-materialistic message is rather old-hat now, but it may have been different back then. [DVD]

BLUE SKIES (1946)

Paramount does a Fox-style musical with distinct echoes of the earlier HOLIDAY INN: same basic plot (two friends split up over a woman), same leading men (Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire), with music by the same songwriter (Irving Berlin). Astaire is a dancer in love with Joan Caulfield, but she falls for Crosby, once a singing partner of Astaire's but now a nightclub owner. Crosby and Caulfield get married, but he's restless and won't settle down; instead he opens clubs, makes them successful, sells them, resettles, and opens a new one. Even a daughter doesn't make Crosby any more domestic, so Caulfield leaves him and rejoins Astaire professionally. Romantically, however, things don't work out and a drunken Astaire falls during a dance number on stage one night and sustains an injury that ends his career. The framing device for the film has Astaire (now a radio personality) telling the whole story on the air in hopes that he can get Crosby and Caulfield back together. The plot is more serious than that of HOLIDAY INN, more reminiscent of a Fox musical love triangle (with, for example, Don Ameche, Tyrone Power, and Alice Faye), and it doesn't suit the talents of the leading men, but the elaborate musical numbers are diverting, including "Blue Skies," "Running Around in Circles," and the famous "Puttin' on the Ritz" number with Astaire dancing in front of a chorus line made up of multiple versions of himself. Aside from the appeal of the Berlin songs, Astaire and Crosby are the only real draws. Olga San Juan as a singer named Nita Nova is good (I wonder why she didn't have a stronger career) but Billy DeWolfe is a second-rate comic sidekick—he's a notch above the horrific Phil Silvers but he's no Donald O'Connor or even Walter Abel. Even though it's not Christmas, stick with HOLIDAY INN. [DVD]

SON OF FURY (1942)

Very enjoyable period melodrama with Tyrone Power near the peak of his career. The central story is of a twisted, dysfunctional family. Roddy McDowell is the young Benjamin Blake, the offspring of a duke and a poor girl who were married, but after the duke dies, his dastardly brother (George Sanders) hides evidence of the marriage so that McDowell won't be able to make any claims to money or property when he grows up. To keep control over him, Sanders snatches the boy away from his loving grandfather (Harry Davenport) and makes him a stable boy. Years later, when Ben grows up (Tyrone Power), he falls for Sanders' daughter (Frances Farmer) but when Sanders hears of a possible liason, he beats Power brutally and Power escapes, spending some years on a South Seas island, romancing Gene Tierney and collecting pearls to take back to England to make his fortune. When he does get back home, he tries to take Sanders on in court and discovers ex-flame Farmer to be a betraying wench. Power is handsome and charming (and shirtless in a few scenes) and Tierney is lovely, though she doesn't really have much to do except look good in her flowery swim suit and do what seems to be an early version of the Macarena. The black and white camerawork is occasionally stunning, far more "artistic" than I would expect in an average swashbuckler of the era. Sanders is excellent as the thoroughly evil villain, raging with sadistic fury at Power. Also in the cast: John Carradine as a sailor who befriends Power, Elsa Lanchester as a helpful barmaid, and Robert Greig as a judge. Quite fun all around; well made and nice to look at. [FMC]

THE GREEN GODDESS (1930)

An anti-"Lost Horizon" in which a group of British travelers are stranded in an isolated Indian village at the mercy of a cruel rajah. Its stage play origins show but it's fun to watch, largely due to George Arliss in the villainous lead role, and to the somewhat wild twists and turns the plot takes. Ralph Forbes is piloting a small plane carrying a stuffy old major (H.B. Warner) and his younger wife (Alice Joyce) when they are forced to crash land in relatively uncharted territory near the village of Rukh. At first they are welcomed by Arliss (the alternately cool and friendly Rajah) but it turns out that Arliss' brothers are about to be executed by the British and Arliss plans to hold the three hostage, either to negotiate a release or to take their lives for the lives of his brothers. Arliss tells Joyce he will spare her and send for her children to join her if she agrees to be his mistress (so that they can breed a small race of supermen!), but of course she turns him down. The prisoners try to get the British butler (Ivan Simpson) to help them send out a Morse Code message for help, but he betrays them, so they toss him out the window to his death in the rocky valley below. Can Warner get a message out before the Rajah catches on to their plan?

The direction, as was the case in many early talkies, is static, with some shots awkwardly framed and some of the performances lacking power. Forbes does a good job looking like he's scared shitless as the plane goes down, but he has a more difficult time expressing subtler emotions. In a scene where he's trying to get Joyce to relax, he comes off like a demonic hypnotist (no wonder she doesn't calm down). Joyce is bland, but old pros Warner and Arliss are fine. Arliss was considered one of the greats in the 20's, on screen and stage. Warner appeared in over 100 movies in five decades, starting in 1914, and is probably best known as Christ in the silent KING OF KINGS, and as the druggist Mr. Gower in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Some of the sets are grand, especially the ritual room where the prisoners are to be sacrificed at the end. Of course, Joyce and Forbes are rescued, but Arliss is left unmolested by the British and gets in a good last line about Joyce, as he mutters, "She probably would have been a nuisance." [TCM]

CHRISTOPHER STRONG (1933)

Although Colin Clive (mostly known as Dr. Frankenstein in the original 1931 FRANKENSTEIN) plays the title character, it is Katharine Hepburn who is at the center of this film. She plays Lady Cynthia Darrington, a free thinking aviatrix whom, though rich and popular, has never had time in her life for a lover. Clive is Sir Strong, a sturdy, serious minded British type: husband, father, member of Parliament. His daughter (Helen Chandler, Mina in DRACULA) brings her father to a scavanger hunt party as a found artifact, a faithful husband. Chandler's married boyfried (Ralph Forbes) brings Hepburn as a virgin. Clive and Hepburn, both feeling quite out of place at a wild party, bond and soon begin an affair which hurts everyone around them, including Chandler, who comes to look upon Hepburn as a mentor, and Clive's wife (Billie Burke). Hepburn sets out to break some flying records (egged on, no doubt, by being referred to as "just a girl"), but Clive talks her into giving up flying for him. However, when she finds out she's pregnant, she goes for an altitude record, breaks it, then commits suicide by crashing the plane rather than have Clive leave his family for her. The movie's most infamous moment is Hepburn's appearance in a wild silver moth outfit—she's wearing it to a party, but it feels jarringly out of place in the serious discussion she has with Clive. The acting all around is solid, and even Clive, who is usually a stick or a neurotic (or both), is OK, though his chemistry with Hepburn comes and goes. Burke's dithery mannerisms are completely absent here. Even though there are pre-Code elements, the ending is still drearily moralistic, punishing Hepburn for being an unconventional and "uppity" woman. [TCM]

DULCY (1940)

Screwballish B-ish MGM comedy, mostly notable for giving Ann Sothern something of a change of pace role. Instead of being her usual brassy, streetwise, working-class dame, here she's a ditzy rich girl who meddles ineffectively in the lives of everyone around her, getting things so messed up that they suddenly turn out right. The movie opens with a young Dan Dailey singing "Singin' in the Rain" in the shower until the hot water suddenly goes out; it's his sister Dulcy's (Sothern) fault as she's tinkering with the boiler until it explodes (in a short but funny scene). There's a bunch of seemingly unrelated plotlines set up: Dailey is concerned with the imminent visit of his fiancee's parents (Roland Young and Billie Burke); an inventor (Ian Hunter) is hanging around trying to sell his new airplane engine; there's a crazy man (Reginald Gardiner) who thinks he's actually his own brother, an airplane magnate; there's an ex-con (Guinn Williams) that Sothern takes under her wing as a butler. All the plotlines come crashing together when everyone winds up spending the weekend at a mountain cabin. Thanks to Sothern, all the wires that can get crossed, do, until everything is righted at the end. There's even more characters, including Hans Conreid as a surrealist playwright and Jonathan Hale as a lawyer who is chasing after Gardiner. The short length and fast pace are pluses. There are many funny bits, and Sothern comes off pretty well doing a variation on Hepburn's BRINGING UP BABY part. Of course, Young and Burke are joys, as always. [TCM]

THE BEAST WITH FIVE FINGERS (1946)

A disembodied hand keeps popping up in a creepy mansion peopled with unlikeable characters. This movie plays out like an overlong Twilight Zone episode rather than a full-blooded horror movie, but it *is* a different kind of film for its era. The mix of characters is potentially interesting, but only Peter Lorre really brings the film to life. At the center of the story is Victor Francen, a pianist with a paralyzed arm who lives in an Italian town; he's cared for by pretty nurse Andrea King, with whom he's fallen in love. She, however, has the hots for the disreputable con man Robert Alda, who has gotten into Francen's good graces by writing one-handed arrangements of music so he can continue playing the piano. Lorre is Francen's creepy secretary, who spends his free time perusing a library full of occult books. King wants to leave with Alda, but Lorre rats her out to Francen, who then tries to strangle Lorre. That night, Francen dies in an accidental fall and some shifty relatives descend, trying to grab the house from King (the legal heir) and the books from Lorre. Soon it's discovered that the corpse's hand has been severed; hand sightings, eerie music, and a death follow. The scenes of the hand are quite good, except for the unfortunate coincidence that it looks rather like the Thing in The Addams Family TV series, which caused me to chuckle a few times. There are two trick "punch-line" endings. [TCM]