GRAND OLD GIRL (1935)

May Robson is a tough high-school principal, but she’s good-hearted enough to make an arrangement with coach Ward Bond to make sure the star football player will pass geometry. However, she is hell on wheels against Alan Hale, a former student who now runs an ice cream fountain which fronts a hidden gambling backroom. After a student shows Robson how to play craps, she busts in on a game and wins just enough money from Hale to rent an empty storefront across the street in order to open a more wholesome malt-shop hangout for the local teens, but when a fight breaks out at Robson's place, the school board not only closes her down, but forces her out two years before her pension would kick in. Baddie Hale has a change of heart and somehow manages to get the President of the United States, a former student of Robson's, to stop by to sing Robson's praises to the assembled townsfolk. This mild comedy/drama takes place in a small town where Andy Hardy or Betty & Veronica might live, and the atmosphere is nicely set up. Robson is her usual lively self, Fred MacMurray (in his first credited role) and Mary Carlisle are a cute couple who get caught up in Robson's drama and Edward Van Sloan is a nasty school board member who plots against Robson. If there's not much to this, there's also not much to say against it except the last 15 minutes is a little too sappy. A tolerable if predictable character study which makes an interesting period piece now.  [TCM]

THE PAINTED VEIL (1934)

Katrin, daughter of a medical research doctor, feels at odds when her younger sister gets married, but soon Walter, one of her father's students, shows an interest in her, and rather suddenly asks her to marry him. Mostly to escape her humdrum life, she accepts. They go off to Hong Kong where Walter works on a cure for cholera. Katrin tries to fit in by playing bridge with the local British wives and going to the horse races, but Walter soon becomes obsessed with his work and Jack, a handsome, married embassy attaché, begins paying attention to her. She fights his flirtatious advances, but one night, during a Chinese festival celebrating the marriage of the sun and the moon, she gets tired of just watching the people in the streets, and dresses up and ventures out. Right away she meets Jack and together they walk through the crowds, enjoying the festivities, finally giving way to their lustful attraction. Soon Walter puts two and two together; he tells Katrin he'll divorce her only if Jack agrees to divorce his wife and marry her. Concerned about the repercussions for his career, Jack says he can't leave his wife. When Walter is called away to a remote province to fight a raging cholera epidemic, Katrin goes with him and begins to have a change of heart, throwing herself into nursing duties and finding a new respect for her husband, though it takes a near-tragedy for the two to fully reconcile.

This romantic melodrama, based on a Somerset Maugham novel, is notable as a film which, released after the censorious Production Code went into effect, more or less lets its characters get away with immoral behavior and not get punished. No one is presented as "bad"; we understand why Katrin strays, why Walter grows distant, and why Jack wants to keep things as they are. Greta Garbo, as Katrin, is her usual sultry but stiff self; she does strike some sparks with George Brent (as Jack), and she's good in her early scenes with Herbert Marshall (as Walter, pictured at left with Garbo and Brent), but I remain mostly immune to the Garbo mystique. Marshall, who sometimes strikes me as passive and artificial, and Brent are both fine here. In supporting parts, Jean Hersholt (as Katrin's father) and Warner Oland (as a Chinese general opposed to Walter's plans to burn down much of his village to end the epidemic) are good enough that you wish their roles were larger. Keye Luke, who would later appear with Oland in the Charlie Chan films, has a small role. The film is beautifully photographed by William Daniels, who shot all of Garbo's MGM films, with the Chinese festival scene a standout. [TCM]

MEET MR. CALLAGHAN (1954)

In the opening shot, the only exciting scene in this whole movie, a man at a desk looks at the camera, says, "No, don't!" and is shot dead. The man, Meraulton, has four nephews and a step-daughter, Cynthis, who is about to marry William, one of the nephews. She knows that the old man had just written a new will naming her as his heir, and she comes to private investigator Callaghan (Derrick De Morney), knowing that she herself is a prime suspect in the murder; Callaghan, on the verge of getting thrown out of his office for not paying rent, agrees to try and prove her innocence and find the guilty party. While visiting the nephews, he soon discovers they were all in on a scam involving draining the old man’s money through the setting up of fake companies. Callaghan has to juggle Cynthis, the police, and the nephews as he figures out where the will is and who the murderer is. This British B-film has several strikes against it in my book. First, De Morney is bland, uncharismatic, and unattractive. Second, so is most of the rest of the cast.  Third, most of the movie consists of dialogue scenes in which two actors lay out the necessary exposition with little or no action or visual flair, though the physical look of the movie (sets, photography) is adequate. A scene in a mortuary is rather fun, and an encounter in a nightclub with Adrienne Corri works up some pizzazz, but otherwise, this is a dull affair. The jaunty theme music, though catchy, is a little out of place. The character of Slim Callaghan was the hero of a series of mystery novels by Peter Cheyney. [DVD]

THE FURIES (1950)

Walter Huston returns to the family ranch in New Mexico, called the Furies, on the occasion of his son's marriage, and also to shore up the ranch's economic problems. The son is weak and colorless, but Huston's daughter (Barbara Stanwyck) is a strong, take-control type who runs the ranch in her father's absence. In order to get a bank loan, Huston must evict a group of Mexican-American squatters who have lived on his land for years. Unfortunately, one of those squatters is the hunky Gilbert Roland, whom Stanwyck is close "friends" with, so she insists that Roland's family be allowed to stay. Stanwyck's official love interest is Wendell Corey, a banker whose father was killed by Huston, but in addition to the flirtation between Stanwyck and Roland, there is obviously a strange passion between father and daughter which borders uncomfortably on the physical. Soon, Huston brings his mistress (Judith Anderson) to the ranch, intending to marry her and make her head of the family, which sends Stanwyck into a rage; when the gloating Anderson patronizingly tells Stanwyck that she'll always be welcome at the ranch, Stanwyck throws a pair of scissors at her face, disfiguring her for life. Stanwyck then puts into motion a plan to get hold of the ranch behind her father's back.

When critics talk about the "Freudian western," they're usually referring to JOHNNY GUITAR with Joan Crawford, but this one is actually a better example: the plot, settings, and characters are more consistent and coherent, and the tone less campy, though still with over-the-top elements that emphasize the Greek-tragedy aspect of the story (sadly, the redemptive ending chickens out from what should be a bloodbath). Huston (in his last film) and Stanwyck (both pictured) are absolutely pitch-perfect and their scenes together are superb. Anderson and Roland are fine in their limited roles; the drippy Corey is the inevitable weak link--someone stronger and more charismatic would have amped up the sexual tension considerably. Still, this overlooked gem is a must-see for film buffs, especially the great print available on DVD from Criterion.  [DVD]

I WAS AN AMERICAN SPY (1951)



On the day of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Claire, an American nightclub singer, is living in Manila with a maid and an adopted daughter; John, her soldier boyfriend, is called up to go to Bataan and tells her to leave the country, but she wants to stay near him. He arranges a quick wedding ceremony out in the woods, and without even a wedding night, he's off. Later, when she hears about the fall of Bataan, Claire rather improbably treks off into the jungle to look for John. She finds him as a prisoner of war but sees him shot dead by a Japanese soldier. Luckily, Claire is helped out by Corporal Boone, whom she then helps out by agreeing to go back to Manila to become a spy for the underground. In the city, she reunites with her former boss and runs a nightclub which caters to the Japanese troops. Under the code name "High Pockets" (for her habit of slipping notes in her bra), she turns the Club Tsubaki into a clearinghouse for intelligence which is passed along to Boone; she also cozies up to Col. Masamoto to find out more information helpful to the Allies. She is a successful spy for two years until her cover is blown and she is arrested, tortured, and sentenced to death by Masamoto, who is none too happy to have been tricked by a woman. Eventually, with the Americans closing in, Boone and a squadron of men raid the prison and free Claire, whom we last see being awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

This film is based on the true story of Claire Phillips, who really was a spy in Manila, was tortured, and won the Medal of Freedom. Still, much of this telling of her life is convoluted: in real life, she had a daughter, not through adoption but by a previous marriage, and after the first 20 minutes, we barely see the girl. The incident in the jungle in which she sees her husband killed and meets Boone is far-fetched and in fact completely fictitious—in real life, she didn't know her husband was dead until much later. The final raid is a little confusing—it seems as though only a handful of men are involved, but suddenly, there are dozens of men storming the prison. Still, for a low-budget war film, this is watchable enough. Ann Dvorak (pictured) is fine as Claire, though her personality is a bit unstable: at the beginning, she's mousy and passive, and not at all like an entertainer; later, at the Club Tsubaki, she is suddenly confident and outgoing. She even gets to sing a song, "Because of You," and we see her start performing a fan dance in an attempt to keep a Japanese officer in the club past midnight. The rest of the B-level cast is OK: a bearded Gene Evans, looking quite contemporarily bearish, as Boone; Douglas Kennedy as her husband; Philippine actor Leon Lontoc as a native guerrilla fighter and protector of Claire; and best of all, Richard Loo as Masamoto, a worthy adversary for Claire, and surprisingly a somewhat fleshed-out character rather than just a stock villain. The best scene is a mutual slapping argument in the club between Clair and a pudgy Japanese businessman (who turns out to be a munitions dealer). [TCM]

DANGEROUS CROSSING (1953)

Heiress Jeanne Crain has had a whirlwind one-month courtship with Carl Betz, a handsome man about whom she knows almost nothing. They get married by a justice of the peace and take off for their honeymoon on a cruise ship headed for Europe. He romantically carries her over the threshold of their cabin, heads off on some errand, and says he'll meet her at the bar, but he never shows up. When Crain goes looking for him, no one believes he exists: the room she claimed they were in is unoccupied and her luggage is in a different room, into which she's registered under her maiden name. Worst of all, the one person who she knows saw them together, a maid who was in the room when he carried her in, claims that she's never seen her before. Michael Rennie, the sympathetic ship's doctor, tries to calm her down and figure out what's what. That night, Betz calls her from a phone on board, says they're in danger and to trust no one, then hangs up. Naturally, Crain becomes even more unsettled. Rennie discovers that she is prone to depression since her father died a few months ago, but slowly he begins to believe her story. Also involved are a kindly (or is she?) single gal who befriends Crain, a sinister (or is he?) older German man with a cane who always seems to be in the way, a friendly ship's officer who remembers seeing Crain get on board but not her husband, and a mysteriously ill officer who may or may not have appendicitis.

Fox issued this as part of their Film Noir DVD line, but I fail to see anything about it that is in the least bit noir-ish. It's an enjoyable B-thriller with several pleasures: it was shot on the standing set of Fox's earlier big-budget film TITANIC so the backgrounds look good; the fogbound nighttime scenes on the deck are incredibly atmospheric; the plot is easy to follow but twisty enough to keep you on your toes--you'll figure out who's good and who's bad with no trouble, but the explanation for how things get pulled off makes for a nice twist. Crain overdoes the hysterics a bit, but she always looks good; Rennie is low-key but effective. Betz (pictured) doesn't get much screen time, but he's memorable.  [DVD]

BEACH BALL (1965)

In the second TCM Spring Break movie I watched last week, four college dropouts have formed a band, the Wigglers; they're the house band at a beach bar, hoping to get their big break playing at a one-day music festival. Unfortunately, the boys owe $1,000 on their instruments and Mr. Wolf is threatening to repossess them. Dick, the songwriter (and the most responsible one of the group) goes to the student credit union to get a loan, saying he needs it so he can re-enroll and finish his degree. Susan, an officer at the credit union, agrees to give him a check for the money, but when she and three other co-eds arrive at the boys' pad, they find a raucous party in full swing and take back the check. Feeling remorseful, the four girls—all of whom wear glasses and their hair in tight buns—go undercover (by taking off their glasses and shaking their hair out) to try and steer the boys back to college. Naturally, each boy falls for one of the girls, and vice versa, and by the end, they play the festival, but in drag, to escape Mr. Wolf's attention.

This is about par for the course for 60's beach movies: a cheap look (primitive looking sets, drab art direction, so-so cinematography), bland acting, shirtless boys and bikinied girls being flirtatious but never really naughty, and a couple of surfing scenes. This stands out mostly for the musical talent, including the Righteous Brothers, the Walker Brothers, and the Four Seasons.  Most notably, Diana Ross & the Supremes close out the movie as the festival headliners—they don't do any of their hits, just a couple of surfing tunes. Still, they do a nice job on the silly title song. Edd Byrnes (Kookie on 77 Sunset Strip) was over 30 and, if he doesn't quite look his age, he does seem too old to play a college student. He also doesn't seem be having any fun with his role. The girl he's paired off with, Chris Noel, is similarly bland, and the other three credit union girls seem interchangeable. Luckily some of the supporting cast members are a little more interesting. Aron Kincaid (as the lead singer), Robert Logan (as the drummer, who shakes his shaggy head and is named Bango—like Ringo, get it?), and Don Edmonds (as the sax player) do have some fun with their roles, and Anna Lavelle (pictured above with the guys) makes an impression as a beach girl whose skimpy bikini bottom is always be on the verge of sliding off. Roger Corman regular Dick Miller shows up as a cop who pesters both the kids and Mr. Wolf (James Wellman), on whom the boys keep pulling pranks. The opening features some impressive surfing footage, but that's about it for any real beach antics. [TCM]

THE GIRLS ON THE BEACH (1965)

A couple of weeks ago, TCM ran a week of beach movies under a "Spring Break" theme.  I'd seen most of them, but I did catch a couple of rarities. In the set-up for this one, three college boys are flirting with three officers of the Alpha Beta sorority house, who are in the midst of planning an Easter Week bash. The Alpha Beta house mother tells the girls that, due to her giving house money away to charity cases, they may lose the house mortgage, so the girls decide to make the bash a fund-raising event. Duke, one of the flirting boys, comes up with a bright idea to get close to the girls: he pretends he knows Ringo Starr and claims he can get the Beatles to show up for their show. What could possibly go wrong? As 60s beach movies go, this is near the bottom of the barrel: it's cheap looking, doesn't have many scenes actually set on the beach (most of it plays out in a beach bar or at the sorority house), and there's not as much skimpy beachwear as there should be. The boys and girls are bland—few of the actors went on to bigger and better things—making one long for the talents of Annette and Frankie, and to top it off, the solution to the Beatles situation is ridiculous. 

The pluses are the musicians who do appear: Lesley Gore and the Beach Boys. Both of them were top 10 hitmakers when this movie was made, so it's a little strange that the film wastes them plotwise. Gore just stands around the sorority house phonograph and sings when the mood strikes her, and the Beach Boys (pictured above left) play at the small beach club, alternating with the house band, the Crickets (best known as Buddy Holly's group—they get stuck performing an English-language version of "La Bamba" four times). Normally, the solution to the Beatles problem would be to present a double bill of Gore and the Boys, but why would the kids pay to see them when they hang around and sing free of charge? The musical highlights belong to the Beach Boys: a club performance of "Little Honda" and Brian Wilson serenading the girls on the beach with the romantic ballad "The Lonely Sea." Noreen Corcoran and Martin West (who later played a doc on General Hospital) are fine in the leads, and for eye candy, Lana Wood (Natalie's sister) does some nice gyrating in her bikini. As for the boys on the beach, Aron Kincaid, Steven Rogers and Arnold Lessing (the red-haired boyfriend of Wood, who gets smashed over the head with a guitar at the climax) sufficed for my tastes; pictured at right are Rogers, Kincaid and West. The always-fun Dick Miller, a Roger Corman repertory player, has what amounts to a cameo as a waiter who disparages the Beatles. Only a must-see for fans of the Beach Boys. [TCM]

THE MANDARIN MYSTERY (1936)

Josephine Temple (Charlotte Henry) arrives in New York City to sell a rare and extremely valuable stamp, the Chinese Mandarin, to Dr. Kirk, though others are interested. Because of publicity, she is briefly the toast of the town and soon young Ellery Queen (Eddie Quillan), son of the respected police inspector, is squiring her about—they meet cute when, because his girlfriend has stood him up, he tosses a bouquet into a crowd and accidentally hits Josephine in the face. Kirk is using money which belongs to his nieces Martha and Irene, to whom he is legal guardian; he sees the purchase as a good investment but they're not happy about it, especially Irene who wants to marry young Donald, a gadabout who seems to be on the verge of hitting it big with a business deal. While Josephine is on the phone with Ellery, someone sneaks into her hotel room and steals the stamp (which she was keeping, not in a safe or even a drawer, but in her purse!). Later, at Kirk's place, a dead man is in found in the library, his jacket on backwards and buttoned up, speared against a door in a standing position. Oddly, the rare stamp features a Chinese man in a backwards coat as well. When it's discovered that Josephine was present in the room just before the body was discovered, she becomes a suspect, and Ellery and his father are soon on the case.

The Ellery Queen movies of the 30s and 40s are difficult to find. Most of them, which featured either Ralph Bellamy or William Gargan, were B-films from Columbia and haven’t been released on DVD or licensed by Turner Classic Movies yet. However, the first two in the series were made at the B-studio Republic and have been circulating as public domain prints on tape and DVD.  THE SPANISH CAPE MYSTERY with Donald Cook wasn't bad, but this one is suffers on at least three counts. One is Eddie Quillan—he's perfectly acceptable in comic relief supporting parts (LONDON BY NIGHT) but he's too lightweight for leading man material, even in a B-movie, coming off more like a cute little juvenile in an MGM musical rather than a playboy detective.  He also has zero chemistry with Charlotte Henry (pictured above with Quillan), who herself is no great shakes as a leading lady. Liability #2 is the music. There are two major musical failings in B-movies: no background music at all, or too much. Here the problem is too much of what is mostly inappropriate music seemingly chosen at random with no concern for fitting the mood of a scene. Thirdly, the print is in terrible shape even though it's on a disc (called Great Detectives: Hollywood Classics) released under the auspices of American Movie Classics. The amusingly dithery Franklin Pangborn makes the most of his two short scenes. I liked Rita La Roy as Martha, who should have had more to do. Not a total waste of time, but not one to go out of your way to see. I hope the Columbia Ellery Queen movies become available soon.  [DVD]

LOVE IS NEWS (1937)

I've spent the month of April watching comedies (in honor of April Fool's Day) and I wrap the month up with this mild screwball comedy that includes elements of the earlier LIBELED LADY and THE FRONT PAGE. Newspaper editor Don Ameche wants to re-sign cocky star reporter Tyrone Power so he gets him working on a story about Loretta Young, an heiress who doesn't like press attention. Power tricks Young into getting exclusive access to her, and when she finds out, she tricks him, announcing to the press that she and Power are engaged, so he'll know what it feels like to be chased by the paparazzi. What follows are all kinds of shenanigans, with socks on the jaw, public kissing, a car chase, Power and Young in jail, and Young's fortune-hunting ex-fiancé (George Sanders) showing up and making trouble. This was Power's first comedy lead and though he's very good looking, his performance is a bit mannered.  He has a good scene in the beginning, playing checkers on a barroom floor with glasses filled with beer. Young and Ameche are fine; Sanders seems a bit uncomfortable doing silly comedy. In support are Slim Summerville, Walter Catlett, and Elisha Cook Jr. There's an amusing running gag involving Ameche being nattered at over the phone by his (unseen) wife Mabel. A bit too much plot is crammed into the short film, but it's mostly painless screwball fun.  [DVD]

HOLY MATRIMONY (1943)

Priam Farll is a famous British artist who has escaped the unwanted glare of the spotlight by living alone, with only his valet, on an island in the East Indies for 25 years. One day, Priam gets the news that he is wanted back in London to receive a knighthood. Reluctantly, the two go back but on their first night there, the valet takes ill and dies of pneumonia.  The attending doctor mistakes the two men's names and declares that Priam Farll is dead. Since the valet had no immediate family, Farll doesn't correct the mistake and decides to live a quiet life under his valet's name, Henry Leek. Unfortunately, the press goes wild with the news, there is national mourning, and Leek winds up buried in Westminster Abbey as Farll. There's also another complication: Leek had arranged an assignation with a woman through a matrimonial bureau. Through a mix-up involving a photograph of Farll and Leek together, the woman, Alice, thinks that Farll really is Leek.  The two hit it off and wind up married, with Alice completely unaware of her husband's real identity. For the first time in his life, Farll is happy but over the next couple of years, more complications arise. First, it turns out that Leek was already married and his wife and her three husky sons show up; later, a scandal involving new paintings of Farll's that are being sold as lost masterpieces threatens to expose his subterfuge, to the public and to his wife.

This is a charming low-key comedy which, for about the first hour, is almost perfect: witty dialogue, strong performances, unusual plotline. Monty Woolley anchors the film as Farll, playing him as a comic figure who doesn't think much of his fellow man, a bit like his Sheridan Whiteside in THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER, though his character is less broad and cartoonish here. Gracie Fields, a famous comic actress in England, brings a real humanity to the role of Alice, who takes whatever comes her way in stride. Eric Blore as the valet (pictured above to the left of Woolley) only has a couple of scenes, but he leaves a strong impression that lasts through the film. There is a great supporting cast including Una O'Connor as Leek's widow; Franklin Pangborn giving one of his least flitty performances as a cousin of Leek's; Melville Cooper as the doctor; Ethel Griffes as a rich patron of the arts; Laird Cregar as an art dealer; and George Zucco in a too-small part as a barrister. The last half-hour bogs down in courtroom shenanigans, and Farll acts in odd ways that don't seem consistent with his character, serving only to lengthen the running time. Still, quite a lovely little gem. Two memorable lines: Woolley to Blore on his deathbed: "Don’t make a confession until you feel the rigor mortis setting in." Later, when someone tells Woolley his wife is a huge fan of his art, Woolley says he left England because of her; the man, taking him literally, says, "You know my wife?" Woolley replies, in his driest manner, "I speak, of course, in hyperbole." [TCM]

WATERMELON MAN (1970)

Jeff Gerber is an average middle-class guy: he has two kids, lives in the suburbs, works in insurance, and has scheduled sex with his wife once a week. He does have a few quirks; every morning, he leaves the house and, rather than pick up the bus nearby, essentially races it, on foot, to the last possible stop before downtown. He's also loud and obnoxious, politically conservative, and, at the height of the civil rights unrest in the late 60s, causally racist, making what he thinks are jokey remarks about skin color to the few black people he sees, including a diner worker he runs into every day. One morning, he wakes up as usual and starts his daily routine only to discover he has turned black—his wife enters the bathroom and shrieks, "There's a Negro in the shower!" When he goes racing the bus, onlookers assume he's a thief; at work, the hot Swedish secretary is suddenly interested in him (she says she wants to see his "switchblade"), and his wife slowly grows more distant. He assumes it's the fault of a defective sun lamp, but his doctor has no idea how it happened. The only person in his life who doesn't seem horrified is his boss, who sees this as an opportunity to sell insurance to members of the growing black middle-class.  

This parable would have worked better as a TV show or a shorter film; though it's only 100 minutes, the last half drags on. Godfrey Cambridge is very good in the lead role—his make-up as a white man in the first stretch is about as realistic as it could get without the use of digital effects (which didn't exist back then) or a different actor. He doesn't quite look real, but that could be because I knew going in what Cambridge looked like; a viewer who didn't might have a different reaction. He tries to bring some humanity to a role that is mostly intended to be symbolic, though his boorishness is done a little too well and even when he becomes more sympathetic, I couldn't really sympathize with him—maybe I wasn't supposed to. It's a loud, bombastic performance which fits the role, but with the loud and shrill background score, it's a bit of overload and the movie tired me out a bit. Estelle Parsons has the thankless role of the wife. The other roles are mostly small, the only standouts being Mantan Moreland, a comic foil in 40s movies who has a couple of good scenes as the diner counterman, and D'Urville Martin as the bus driver—again, a small role, but the looks that pass across his face are effective. The inner 60s flower-power child in me loved Estelle Parsons' psychedelic day-glo outfits.  [TCM]

ACCENT ON LOVE (1941)

George Montgomery has married well, into the family of industrialist Thurston Hall, but he’s not happy as a do-nothing vice-president, and he’s just as unhappy with his wife to whom he is more or less separated. When he expresses his frustrations, she tells him that, on his own, he couldn’t even land a job as a ditch-digger, so that’s what he sets out to do. Not only does he eventually get a relief-project job digging ditches, he becomes friends with the boss (J. Carroll Naish) who lets him crash in his family’s small apartment. He also grows fond of Osa Massen, Naish’s lovely neighbor. They don’t realize that he’s rich and he doesn’t realize that when they complain about their slum landlord, it’s his father-in-law. Soon, Naish and his friends have convinced Montgomery to represent them in a meeting with Hall; he sneaks Hall into Naish’s place for an evening to show him what the buildings are like, but soon all of Montgomery’s deceptions blow up in his face. Can he get Hall to do the right thing, get his wife to give him a divorce, and get Naish and Massen to trust him again?

This is a very cute Capraesque romantic comedy with built-in social responsibility lessons. The working class and immigrants are romanticized, there’s a lot of talk about the wonders of democracy, and it’s certainly not a spoiler to note that the wealthy finally members see the errors of their ways. I’ve become a fan of Montgomery in his 40s films (CHINA GIRL, ROXIE HART) and he’s handsome and robust here—even getting a couple of beefcake shots including one scene in which he races across a busy street in his underwear—and makes a perfect B-movie Capra hero (effective but a notch below James Stewart, Clark Gable, or Gary Cooper). Massen is rather bland, but Naish is better, though at times his exaggerated ethnicity is laid on a bit too thick. There are plotholes—why Naish thinks the lily-white all-American Montgomery is a fellow immigrant is beyond me—but it’s a fun little hour-long filler.  [FMC]

LOUISIANA PURCHASE (1941)

Paramount Pictures plans to make a movie of the stage hit Louisiana Purchase, but a studio lawyer is worried that the events of the satirical play are too close to life, so he dictates a letter (in song) to the studio advising them to make it absolutely clear that the characters bear no resemblance to any real people. They do so by making the first production number a song sung by colorfully-dressed chorus girls, singing about the movie being fiction. Victor Moore is a U.S. senator who arrives in New Orleans to investigate graft charges involving the owners of the Louisiana Purchasing Company. The owners set up state politician Bob Hope to be the fall guy, but tell him his only chance is to get the straight-arrow Moore into a compromising position with a woman for blackmail purposes. Hope enlists the help of Irene Bordoni, owner of an infamous "restaurant," and she talks the lovely Vera Zorina into entrapping Moore. They get Moore drunk (telling him he's just drinking Mississippi River water) and take a picture of Zorina sitting on his lap. The plan backfires when Zorina regrets her role and decides to say she’s engaged to Moore. Next, Bordoni tries a similar scheme only to wind up actually getting engaged to Moore. Finally, on the floor of the Statehouse, Hope pulls a three-day filibuster (in which, among other things, he reads all of Gone with the Wind) so Moore can't make his charges. At the end of the filibuster, just as Hope collapses, Moore gets a telegram with proof about the real wrongdoers, and Hope is free to pair up with Zorina. 

This Irving Berlin musical was a hit on Broadway but most of the songs are gone here, leaving the mildly amusing political humor intact. While Hope is the star, Moore has almost as much screen time. His befuddled, slow-talking persona is an acquired taste, but his pairing with the sprightlier Hope makes for a nice mix of comic styles. Hope is quite good, about as fun as he is in his "Road" movies, and both Bordoni and Zorina are fine. The lovely Dona Drake dances up a storm in a mid-movie Mardi Gras number. There is nice support from Raymond Walburn, Frank Albertson, and Maxie Rosenbloom. The material here is above-average for a Hope comedy, with some good, if obvious, jabs at politicians which are still relevant today. I especially liked one of the politicians saying, about attacking Moore's morals, "The public loves a good crusade—it makes them think we’re looking out for their interests." I also liked Hope saying he got permission from Jimmy Stewart for his Mr. Smith Goes to Washington-style filibuster. The best thing about this movie is its use of Technicolor; I have rarely seen a color movie of the classic era look so eye-poppingly good. Even scenes set in average-looking offices look great, and the Mardi Gras parade, with its purples, gold, blues, and reds, is gorgeous. Pictured are Moore and a mustachioed Hope. [TCM]

BACHELOR FLAT (1962)

In this silly, ridiculous, stupid sex farce which suffers from miscasting and bad writing (do you really want to read any further?), gap-toothed comedian Terry-Thomas plays a British archeology professor at a Southern California university who (for some reason unknown to viewers) is absolutely irresistible to the female students—and to the slightly older women who live nearby. He's renting a beach house from his fiancée (Celeste Holm) who is in Paris on business. Living in a trailer on the property is handsome law student Richard Beymer (and his cute dachshund Jessica) who has become quite buddy-buddy with the professor. One day, out of the blue, beautiful young Tuesday Weld arrives looking for Holm; she's Holm’s daughter, about whom Holm has never told Thomas. For some unfathomable reason, she adopts a tough-girl accent and pretends to be a runaway juvenile delinquent. Thomas tries to help her out while avoiding any hint of scandal—an underage girl sharing his beach house—while Beymer, a more age-appropriate fellow, starts to fall for her, and also starts to see through her subterfuge. There's also a plot point involving a gigantic dinosaur bone that Thomas has found and a rival professor (Howard McNear, Floyd the barber on The Andy Griffith Show) who sneaks around trying to find out where Thomas got it. The climax involves a drunken Thomas, egged on by Beymer, trying to discourage his female admirers by being aggressive with them, when who should arrive on the scene but Holm.

This seems so very dated, it feels like it might have felt old and tired just months after its release. The colorful sets and the attractive young people are pluses, but the whole thing just seems too shrill and forced. No reason is given for Weld not just coming out and saying who she is; the way women throw themselves at Thomas is not explained except by a brief prologue stating that even as far back as the Revolution, American women have found British men sexy (?); and poor Holm has practically nothing to do. Thomas seems uncomfortable throughout, though Weld and Beymer (pictured above) are OK. It's a sad situation when the high spots in a sex farce involve the cutesy shenanigans of a dachshund and a dinosaur bone five times its size. An early door-slamming scene involving Thomas trying to hide two girls in his bedroom from Beymer is fun, but it's downhill from there. [FMC]

THEY MET IN ARGENTINA (1941)

Boring, forgettable, half-baked musical comedy produced at a time when Hollywood was into promoting "good neighbor" policies between North and South America. James Ellison, in Buenos Aries on a job for his oil company boss, meets Maureen O'Hara, an heiress who is collecting money at a race track for the Pan-American Goodwill Fund. His boss wants him to buy a prize race horse owned by O'Hara’s father (Robert Barrat), but when Ellison and his sidekick (Buddy Ebsen) pretend to be interested in his cattle rather than his horses, Barratt sees through their subterfuge and plays games with them, tricking them into bidding on a bull even though they're only authorized to buy horses. In the meantime, Ellison and O'Hara embark on an on-again, off-again flirtation. In the end, Barrat steps in to play matchmaker for the two. Though there was a brief trend in these Pan-American musicals in the 1940s, they were almost always drab and uninspired (unless they featured Carmen Miranda). Ellison is a fine leading man in B-movies, and he and O'Hara might have been a decent team in a non-musical, but here they're wasted along with the minor talents of a mostly unknown supporting cast and a bland musical score (by Rodgers and Hart). The one interesting sequence shows gauchos playing El Pato, a roughneck polo-type game played on the pampas. Skip this one unless you're a die-hard Maureen O'Hara fan. [TCM]

THE GAY DECEIVERS (1969)

To avoid the draft, Kevin Coughlin and Larry Casey, two red-blooded All-American lads, decide to play gay so the Army won't take them. Simply acting like they're gay in front of the draft board colonel (Jack Starrett) is one thing, but when Starrett tells them there may be an investigation, the two move in together. At first, living in a small gay apartment enclave isn't too bad (despite the single pink bedroom with the heart-shaped bed), and even the friendly effeminate landlord (Michael Greer) isn't too much to put up with. But things get uncomfortable when family members visit and, not knowing about the draft evasion plan, start to suspect that they really are lovers. Because of the snooping Starrett, swinging playboy Casey can’t have his usual parade of women come by, and though Coughlin tries to explain things to his steady girl friend (Brooke Bundy), she is understandably confused. When rumors start to fly, Casey loses his lifeguard job (can't have a gay man around the kids) and Bundy breaks off her engagement with Coughlin. They begin thinking that going to Vietnam might not be so bad after all, and the ending, though hardly tragic, is surprisingly downbeat, as anti-gay discrimination alters their lives forever.

I'd heard about this comedy for years, but assumed, arriving as it did at the very dawn of the "gay liberation" era—released just a month after the Stonewall riots in New York—it would be a distressingly dated and stereotyped piece of silliness, so I'd avoided it. Now out on DVD, I gave it a shot and found it’s not bad. It's definitely low-budget, and the script should be more clever and knowing by half. I was surprised how not-campy the movie is. Coughlin and Casey never indulge in flaming-gay stereotype behavior, even in their initial visit to the draft board, during which they take the route of dropping relatively subtle hints rather than shrieking and lisping. Greer's performance, which is campy and stereotyped, is what has made this film a lasting cult item; I'm of two minds about him here. On the one hand, he is playing the "queeny" stereotype complete with some prancing and make-up, and in this day and age, it gets a little irritating; on the other hand, he only goes halfway there. If the character had to be portrayed like this, I sort of wish Greer (pictured at left) had been directed to go all the way. I suspect a subtle screaming queen is no one's idea of fun. His best scene is one without dialogue in which he makes breakfast for the boys while skittering around the kitchen humming an aria. I like that Greer catches on to the boys' subterfuge and does nothing to either give them away or give them a hard time; he seems to be a real "live and let live" personality. As far as gay eye candy, we get several shots of the hunky blond Casey (pictured above right) with his shirt off (and look closely for the seemingly well-endowed loincloth guy in the party scene near the end), but ultimately this movie isn't about sex, but about discrimination, and somewhat sadly, its message is still one that is relevant today. [DVD]

COME FLY WITH ME (1963)

In a swinging Sixties variation on the tried and true plot of three women looking for love (from MOON OVER MIAMI to THREE COINS IN THE FOUNTAIN), this film follows three stewardesses for Polar Atlantic Airlines on flights between New York, Paris, and Vienna. Pamela Tiffin is new and naïve and has a little trouble fitting in at first but quickly sets her sights on the handsome pilot (Hugh O'Brian), not aware that he's in the process of disentangling himself from an affair with a married woman (Dawn Addams) whose husband keeps lodging complaints against him with the airlines. Delores Hart, pictured, who tends to the first-class passengers, flirts with a dashing Baron (Karl Boehm) who turns out to be a smuggler who uses her, unwittingly, to get stolen jewels past customs. The slightly older Lois Nettleton attracts the attention of recently widowed businessman Karl Malden; she feels she would just be a pale copy of his wife and so she becomes a bit stand-offish, but finding out that he's a millionaire complicates matters. Despite the jaunty title tune, a Sinatra hit performed over the credits by Frankie Avalon, this isn't as much fun as its first few minutes would indicate. Part of the problem is a lackluster lead performance by Tiffin, a model turned actress who left the business in the 70s. All of the romantic plotlines have their fun moments, but all also turn serious, though only the Hart-Boehm story comes anywhere close to being compelling. Much of the action was shot on location which adds interest, but too much of this remains drab and predictable. This was starlet Hart’s last film before she left Hollywood to become a nun. James Dobson has a couple of fun scenes as a prank-pulling flight engineer. [TCM]

SHE WENT TO THE RACES (1945)

Edmund Gwenn, a longtime faculty member at a research institute, has just been denied the $20,000 grant he needs to continue his studies. His niece (Frances Gifford), also a researcher, convinces three of Gwenn's fellow professors to help out. One of them (Reginald Owen) has developed a scientific system to determine winners in horse races, so they decide to bet their combined savings of $2000 on a horse called Mr. McGillicutty. When they go to Pasadena for the race, the four of them wind up having to share a hotel room with James Craig, who owns the horse. He tries to talk them out of the bet, certain that the horse has no chance. Gifford changes the bet at the last minute, but McGillicutty wins after all. Bad news for Gifford, but good news for Owen, as it's proof that his system works, so they try to raise money to bet on another race. In the meantime, Gifford falls for Craig just as an old flame of Craig's (Ava Gardner), also a horse owner, shows up at the hotel.

This is the set-up for a frothy screwball comedy, but as a B-picture, it can't quite capture the magic of an AWFUL TRUTH or PHILADELPHIA STORY. Gifford is bland and Craig (pictured with Gardner at left and Gifford at right), starting to lose his matinee idol looks, is only marginally better. Gardner supplies some much-needed spark in the last half of the film. The most fun, however, is supplied by the professors: Owen, Sig Ruman, and Charles Halton. Owen shines in the standout role, with Ruman doing his best to steal scenes. Gwenn is reliably fine, and two lesser-known character actors, J.M. Kerrigan (as the horse’s trainer) and Frank Orth (as a bartender) also do nice work. I lost track of the various shenanigans, but it closes with a nice bit involving Gifford and Gardner placing bets on the last race, with the winner getting Craig. Good line, from Ruman, when told that the betting system doesn't take into account the human factor: "We are scientists—with this 'human' business, we have nothing to do!" [TCM]

THE GHOST GOES WEST (1935)

In 18th century Scotland, kilt-wearing playboy Murdoch Glourie spends too much time flirting with the ladies and not enough time fighting the English or sparring with the rival clan, the MacLaggens, and when he is killed (just after dallying with a lass) by a shell explosion, his father's curse on him takes effect: he must haunt Glourie Castle as a ghost, appearing every midnight, until he can avenge the pride of the Glouries against the MacLaggens. In the 20th century, Donald, the latest Glourie, is forced to sell the castle to pay his debts and the Martin family is interested in buying it, taking the castle apart, and putting it back together in Florida. Because Mrs. Martin is freaked out by the rumor of a Glourie ghost, Donald tries to get the Martins out by midnight, but their daughter Peggy stays the night and sees the ghost, who is a friendly and flirtatious one; she assumes that Donald dressed up in a kilt and played a prank, so she's a little put off when Donald is not quite so flirty the next morning. Nevertheless, the sale goes through with the ghost accompanying the castle bricks on a ship across the sea. By the night of the castle's grand opening, Martin wants Donald to impersonate the ghost, but when the real ghost finds out that one of the guests at the ceremony is a descendent of the MacLaggens… well, you can figure out where it goes from here.

This is a sweet romantic fantasy, based on a short story called "Sir Tristram Goes West," and is very similar in tone and some plotpoints to the later THE CANTERVILLE GHOST which was based on a story by Oscar Wilde. Robert Donat plays both Murdoch and Donald, and is much more appealing as the mildly roguish Murdoch; as Donald, he is basically the same old drab persona he was in many of his movies—Donat is well loved by many, though not by me. Jean Parker (pictured above with Donat) is equally drab as Peggy, though in her scenes where she's bantering with the ghost, she and Donat achieve some sparks. The first scene in particular, along the castle parapet, is nicely atmospheric; in general, the film could use a little more of that ghostliness. Eugene Pallette is his usual growly, fun self as Peggy's father, and Elsa Lanchester has a small role in the climactic scene. [TCM]

SENIOR PROM (1958)

Tom Harper is working his way through college; he wants to make a living at music and recorded a song a year ago called "The Longer I Love You," but nothing came of it; now he and his band Tom's Cats (featuring a goofy string bass player named Dog) have been hired by wealthy frat boy Carter Breed to play at a fraternity party. Before the band arrives, Carter gets some attention at the piano playing "Put the Blame on Mame" and winds up pestered by a glamorous beatnik chick who follows him around, asking questions like "Do you know Stravinsky's Petrushka?" When Tom's band performs, Carter's girlfriend Gay takes a shine to Tom, so Carter dismisses the band. That doesn't stop Gay from hanging out with Tom, and soon they're double-dating with Dog and Flip, a tomboyish sorority girl. Jealous Carter tells the prom committee that because of his father's connections, he can get Louis Prima and Keely Smith to play at the prom for free, but his dad puts the kibosh on that plan. At a pool birthday party for Gay, Tom and Carter get into a fist fight so both guys are out of Gay's good graces, but suddenly Tom's record starts getting airplay and before you know it, it's a #1 hit; suddenly he has the connections and is able to get not only Prima & Smith but Mitch Miller, Connee Boswell, Bob Crosby, and more big-name musicians for the prom. Tom and Gay & Dog and Flip are happy, and Carter tends to his wounds with the glamorous beatnik chick.

This early entry in the teen movie cycle that peaked in the 60s with Frankie and Annette isn't bad, but it's also not very interesting. The music is not rock & roll at all, it's the last gasp of the vanilla popsters of the previous generation: Crosby and Boswell peaked in the 1940s, and Mitch Miller plays an oboe, for God's sake. Prima & Smith were still popular—they perform their top 40 hit version of "That Ol' Black Magic"—but they're not exactly rock. Neither is Tom Harper, played by Paul Hampton (above left) who carved out a career as a songwriter and actor. Though Hampton's character is clearly supposed to be the good guy, he comes off as only marginally more likeable than Carter, played by Tom Laughlin (pictured at right, who later played Billy Jack). The real conflict here isn't so much personality as it is class, but though we're told Hampton is working-class, he looks and acts like all the other rich frat guys in the movie. Jill Corey and Barbara Bostock are OK as Gay and Flip, and James Komack (later a producer of Welcome Back, Kotter) is decent comic relief as Dog. In addition to songs performed by the musicians, the movie is a musical with characters singing to each other on occasion—it feels like a dry run for something like BYE BYE BIRDIE. The songs are unmemorable and there are too many of them. I stuck with it mostly because Hampton and Laughlin were attractive; your mileage may vary. [TCM]

JEW SÜSS (1934)
Aka POWER

In Wurtemberg in 1730, intolerance, particularly anti-Semitism, is rampant, but the Jewish widower Jospeh Süss Oppenheimer will do anything for power, both personal and political. His rabbi warns him away from this path, but with encouragement from his friend Landauer, he eventually insinuates himself in the inner circle of Prince Karl Alexander. When the rabbi reads Karl's palm, he says he sees a dukedom in his future, and sure enough, the old Duke dies, making the rabbi's prediction come true. Soon Süss (pronounced Zeus) is the Duke's financial advisor and becomes a powerful figure in his own right, knowing how to curry favor: when Süss is called upon to help the Duke get the attention of the lovely Marie Auguste, he does so even though he loves her himself. When a man blames a Jew for killing a young girl for her blood (to use in Passover rituals), Süss goes to the Duke to ask him to pardon the man, even threatening to quit his position, and the Duke reluctantly issues the pardon. When the Duke meets Süss's young daughter Naomi, he tries to seduce her; she goes running away from him across a roof and falls to her death (whether it's an accident or a suicide is unclear). Süss holds his torment inside, but when the Duke levies punishing taxes on the people and begins scheming with subversives to abolish Parliament, Süss rebels, calling the Duke "an absurd lump of flesh—totally ridiculous." The Duke's reaction is to drop dead of a heart attack. Without the Duke's protection, Süss is arrested for subversion and for having carnal knowledge of Gentile women. He is offered a deal: renounce his Judaism or die. Despite the fact that he has recently learned that his father was not Jewish but Christian, Süss refuses the deal and goes to his death.

This movie is based on a novel by Lion Feuchtwanger which was also the basis for the notorious 1940 German film of the same title, a piece of viciously anti-Semitic Nazi propaganda which turns the story on its head and makes Süss a murdering, raping villain. In this film, Süss is not heroic or likeable, but is mostly sympathetic; you understand his frustration with his station in life and with the fact that all the power he manages to get hold of doesn't save him from misery and prejudice. Conrad Veidt is excellent in the lead role, never pandering for easy feel-good sympathy from the audience. Cedric Hardwicke (pictured above with Veidt on the left) is almost chilling as the somewhat scary rabbi, and German actor Paul Graetz is fine as Landauer. Pamela Ostrer, later Pamela Mason, the wife of James Mason, is appropriately delicate as Naomi. The look of the film is interesting, bordering on expressionism with interesting use of shadows and odd camera angles. A rarity that is worth catching. [TCM]

SECRET MISSION (1942)

During WWII, three British agents and a Frenchman (James Mason, with an artificial accent) sneak into occupied France to bring back information about German forces. They meet up with members of the local resistance and Mason's family takes them in, though his sister (Carla Lehmann) thinks resistance is futile and isn't happy about their mission, wanting Mason to stay. A man whom the villagers think of as a collaborator proves to be a help to the British; he gets two of them (Hugh Williams and Roland Culver), disguised as champagne salesmen, in to see Gestapo brass to get direct info. This rather plain B-grade British-made wartime thriller isn't very thrilling, though there are a few stand-out moments. One of the men (Michael Wilding) reunites with his French wife and reluctantly agrees to have sex with her "for king and country." There's a truck that drives around all hours of the day and night, playing loud German militaristic music, which winds up playing an important role in the climactic chase sequence involving our agents getting a detained British soldier out with them. Not really a bad movie, but not memorable; Mason's accent is so bad, I thought for sure that it was a plot point and that it would turn out he was actually not French. Pictured are Mason, Williams and Culver. [TCM]

KISS AND MAKE UP (1934)

Cary Grant is a plastic surgeon who runs a Parisian spa and has his own radio show. Genevieve Tobin is Grant's masterpiece, the plain wife of Edward Everett Horton whom he has turned into a vision of loveliness. Grant doesn't really love her, seeing himself more as her Pygmalion, but Horton is unhappy that Tobin is no longer the woman he married and he divorces her, naming Grant as the co-respondent. Meanwhile Grant’s plain secretary (Helen Mack), who keeps the spa running like clockwork and has a crush on Grant, gets fed up with him and starts an affair with Horton. Tobin gets Grant to marry her by threatening to destroy his "masterpiece" by getting fat. The other important character is Lucien Littlefield, a struggling research scientist who wants Grant to go into business with him. When, on their honeymoon, Grant sees Tobin with cold cream slathered on her face to keep up her beauty regimen, he decides Mack is really the girl for him after all, and everything gets sorted out eventually, with a climactic Keystone Kops-like car chase in Paris that also manages to involve dozens of reproducing rabbits. This is a light comedy in the Astaire-Rogers mold, and Grant even gets to sing a couple of songs. Nothing special, but light and frothy fun. [DVD]

SINNERS IN PARADISE (1938)

A small group of people board a plane bound for China, run into heavy weather, and crash in the ocean. Most of them make it to a small island and hope to be found by a passing ship. Madge Evans, who is going to work at a Red Cross hospital, is the only one who doesn’t seem to have a secret agenda. Charlotte Wynters is traveling under an assumed name, though everyone seems to know who she is: an heiress who is running away from union problems at her factories. Two competing weapon makers and a senator (Gene Lockhart) are trying to sell arms to China. Tough moll Marion Martin is hiding out so she can’t testify at a trial. Gangster Bruce Cabot is on the run with thousands of dollars. An older woman (Nana Bryant) is heading to Shanghai to find her son whom she hasn't heard from in a year. The group quickly discovers that they are not alone: John Boles and his Chinese manservant are living there, by choice apparently. He informs them that the island is hundreds of miles away from any shipping lanes or air routes and, even though he has a small boat, he has no intention of taking them anywhere on it, so they need to learn to get along. Clearly, Boles has a secret, too. Some members of the group don't mind staying on the island, and they quickly set up a system of building huts and making food, but others, including the munitions men, will try anything to get off.

This forgotten, hard-to-find movie is essentially director James Whale's version of Gilligan's Island, and is much better than most critics give it credit for. Boles (who is usually a bit too wooden for my taste) and Cabot (at left) are very good in the male leads, and the fact that Cabot is shirtless for much of the film is an added bonus. Martin, whose work I am unfamiliar with, is suitably brassy as the blond moll, and strikes some sparks with Cabot. The snaky ways some of the plotlines get entangled are clever: Boles has a connection with Bryant's son, and the heiress with labor problems threatens to go "on strike" because she doesn't like the work schedule. Willie Fung adopts a ridiculously broad stereotype as the manservant, but he gets to engage in some heroics near the end—though the actual staging of the heroics is inept. Boles has a cockatoo which gets in a couple of cute lines; when one character says something bitchy to another character, the cockatoo says, "Meow!" Some critics seem to dislike this because it's not up to Whale's standards, and while it's true that the direction is workmanlike, it's still an enjoyable B-picture. Pictured above right are Lockhart, Wynters, Boles, Martin, and Cabot. [YouTube]

PYRO (1964)

Fernando Hilbeck (pictured) walks through a crowd at a carnival and, in voiceover, spins a tortured metaphor about life as a Ferris wheel, and memory as a mirror, then a dagger, then the phantoms of memory turning to smoke, etc. In flashback, he relates the story of an acquaintance of his, an engineer (Barry Sullivan) who found inspiration in the shape (and metaphors) of the Ferris wheel for a generator he designed. He takes his family to Spain to oversee the project and falls in love with crazy Martha Hyer; they meet when he discovers her trying to set fire to her own house in order to claim insurance money. On the spot, he offers to buy the house, then they have sex. She says, "Silence is my only weapon"; he replies, "Be careful—silence can be a dangerous weapon" (whatever that means). Eventually, Sullivan breaks things off, but the jealous Hyer sets fire to his house, killing his wife and daughter and leaving Sullivan horribly burned. He vows revenge against Hyer and soon has joined up with a traveling carnival, wearing a latex mask that hides his disfigurement and working as a Ferris wheel repairman. Hilbeck meets up with him and figures out who he is, and when Hyer re-enters the picture, a fiery climax is guaranteed.

This Spanish-made film presents itself as horror (it was released under various titles, including "The Thing Without a Face" and "A Cold Wind from Hell") but it's really a somewhat disjointed domestic revenge thriller, in the Fatal Attraction mold. Hyer and Hilbeck are fine; Sullivan, past his prime, always seems a bit fatigued—the younger Hilbeck might have been a better fit for the part. The purple dialogue is fun; in addition to the lines quoted above, we get a cop reporting on the search for the fugitive Hyer: "We can’t find her—Hell must have swallowed her up." It's an ultra-cheapie production (the print on the Troma DVD is not a pristine one; it might be more impressive if it were restored), but it has its moments. [DVD]

WINGS IN THE DARK (1935)

Cary Grant is a cocky flier working on perfecting techniques for "flying blind," the ability to fly in fog, darkness, or storms; he flies with his windshield covered, using only his instruments to guide him. Myrna Loy is a stunt pilot whom we first see doing skywriting over a beach, though she yearns to do more. Because of her manager's loud mouth, a trip Grant planned on making to Paris to show off his techniques is cancelled because the Feds think he's just after cheap publicity. Loy talks him going ahead anyway, but in a freak accident just before he's ready to go, he is blinded while lighting a stove. The docs say the blindness may be temporary, but that doesn't help him not feel sorry for himself. Loy buys him a seeing-eye dog, gets him writing articles on flying (when they're not accepted, she lies and tells him they have been), and secretly bankrolls his continuing experiments with navigation tools. To raise more money for Grant, Loy undertakes a stunt flight from Moscow to New York, but as she nears Boston, she is "blinded" by thick fog while low on fuel and Grant decides to go up to help guide her down.

This is an early leading role for Grant and he handles it nicely, with a casual, light-on-his-feet performance, the kind that he would no longer give once he became a superstar. Clark Gable's early performances feel the same way to me; while they aren't Oscar-winning parts, they are fun to watch, and it feels like the actors were having fun doing them. Grant and Loy work well together, though they don't get much time for romancing here. In support, Dean Jagger fares best as a Federal aviation man who is sympathetic to Grant's situation; there's also Roscoe Karnes doing his usual bit as Loy's comically irritating manager and Hobart Cavanaugh as Grant's assistant. A solid not-quite A-level programmer. [DVD]

RETURN OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL (1938)

Sir Percy Blakeney is back as the foppish British dandy who moonlights as the mysterious Scarlet Pimpernel, a daring rescuer of French aristocrats during the Revolution. Leslie Howard played him in the original film; he’s a hard act to follow, and Barry K. Barnes doesn't even seem to be trying, but he's adequate, just like the rest of the cast and the movie around him. This sequel begins with a nice cross-cutting sequence contrasting the ghoulish cheering at the guillotine in Paris with the more reserved high spirits at a game of cricket in England at which Sir Percy plays quite well. His wife Marguerite (Sophie Stewart) is pregnant and wants him to avoid his heroic activities for a time, but Chauvelin is under pressure from Robespierre to trap the Pimpernel, and Marguerite is kidnapped to bring Sir Percy out in the open. Robespierre, chief architect of the Terror, goes power-mad, threatening even those closest to him. Luckily, at least one of Robespierre’s chums has become a double agent and is secretly aiding Sir Percy. The plot this time around is more convoluted but also more interesting, and the supporting cast, including James Mason in an early role, is very good. This is a lower-budgeted affair than the 1934 film, but the shadowy, claustrophobic sets add to the dangerous atmosphere. There's a clever bit involving the "damned elusive Pimpernel" verse from the first movie, and Barnes gets in an amusing bit when he disguises himself as an elderly deaf war hero. One of Percy's disguises makes him look like a big-nosed Donald Sutherland. Not up to the standards of the first film, but highly watchable. [DVD]

THE HORN BLOWS AT MIDNIGHT (1945)

This comic fantasy became a famous running gag for its star Jack Benny, who later claimed it was a huge flop of a stinker which ruined his movie career. It was in fact his last starring vehicle in movies, though he went on to a huge career in radio and TV. And while it's not a great movie (for one very obvious reason I'll get to later), it's more than watchable. Benny is an out-of-tune trumpet player for a radio show orchestra. During a late night music show, sponsored by Paradise Coffee (advertised as a sleep aid!!), Benny falls asleep and dreams that he's an angel sent down to Earth by the Chief (Guy Kibbee) to blow the Last Trumpet, the call that will signal the destruction of the planet (in this movie's theological scheme, Earth is just one insignificant peopled planet among millions). He arrives via a cosmic elevator which deposits him in New York's Hotel Universe, but his plan to blow his horn at midnight from the roof of the high-rise hotel is foiled when he saves a cigarette girl (Dolores Moran) from killing herself. When he fails to sound the note, Kibbee threatens to declare Benny a fallen angel, stranding him on Earth, so heavenly secretary Alexis Smith goes down the elevator to try and find out what's happened and help Benny get a second chance to redeem himself. Also in the mix: two fallen angels (Allyn Joslyn and John Alexander) and a slick jewel thief (Reginald Gardiner), whom the angels hire to steal Benny's trumpet to save the Earth.

One of several fantasies of the WWII era to imagine a bureaucratic Heaven and angels who interact with humans (HERE COMES MR. JORDAN and IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE being the two best-known), this one is pretty much straightforward slapstick comedy, and several setpieces, such as Moran's attempted suicide and the wild climax on the hotel roof (which involves a gigantic Paradise Coffee sign with an oversized, mechanical coffee pot, cup, and sugar spoon) are quite fun indeed. The Heaven effects are good, particularly the infinite-looking angelic orchestra (pictured). All the actors seem to be having a good time, especially Benny, Gardiner, and Franklin Pangborn as a harried hotel clerk--though the lovely Alexis Smith hasn't much to do. The film effectively uses the OZ gimmick of having everyone in "real life" (mostly members of the orchestra) be characters in the dream. What the film is missing, which keeps it from being anything more than a fun diversion, is a total lack of any narrative or emotional resonance. The whole thing is just the dream of a second-rate trumpet player: no reason is given for the destruction of the Earth, and equally, no reason given for the human race to be saved. The dream narrative comes to no logical conclusion; Benny just wakes up at midnight and delivers a final punch line about the likelihood of his dream being made into a movie. With no narrative heft and no truly rounded characters, it ends up feeling like an extended comedy sketch. Still, it has a fast pace and some very clever musical cues here and there, and it's fun for fans of Benny and of afterlife fantasies. [TCM]

THE TANKS ARE COMING (1951)

It's July 1944, just a month after D-Day, and the Allies are making a push through France hoping to break through the Siegfried Line into Germany. The men in Lt. Rawson's tank platoon are gung-ho about their mission until their beloved Sgt. Davis is seriously injured during a battle with a German tank. He is replaced by the cocky showoff Sgt. Sullivan (Steve Cochran); virtually all the men clash with him over one thing or another. But Rawson (Philip Carey) respects his abilities enough to let him pick his own driver, a drunkard named Tucker (George O'Hanlon, later the voice of George Jetson) who vows to stay off the sauce until they get on German soil. This choice pisses off Davis' driver Kolowicz (Paul Picerni) who becomes Sullivan's chief adversary. Other platoon members we get to know include a German-American soldier known affectionately as "Heinie," the radio man who is nicknamed "Marconi," the blustery mechanic Lemcheck, and his wet-behind-the-ears assistant Pvt. George "Ike" Eisenhower (James Dobson). After a particularly dangerous battle which pits the American 75-mm guns against the superior German 88s, Ike runs away through the rain to find a general to complain to. He has the luck to meet up with the friendly Col. Matthews who listens to Ike and tells him that the Allies have tanks with 90-mm guns on the way, and the first one he gets, he'll send to Ike. Sure enough, weeks later, such a tank arrives with a note delivering it to Ike. As the platoon moves on, Sullivan slowly changes his reckless behavior, to the point where he risks his own life heading out to save Marconi, who had himself engaged in a risky maneuver to save his platoon. Eventually, they get into Germany, where Tucker allows himself some champagne, Heinie makes contact with his grandparents, and Sullivan is recommended for a promotion.

This is an average B-war film which uses stock footage for most of its big battle scenes, though a couple of the tank fights are staged effectively. The cast of characters is the usual mix of types, and certain characters go through their predictable changes of attitude, especially Sullivan and Kolowicz. Steve Cochran (pictured above to the left of Philip Carey) looks like a WWII hero-type, but I don't know what's up with his speaking voice—it's like he’s trying to do an American regional accent but never settled on one so he ends up sounding just theatrically bombastic. Dobson (at right) gives a good performance as the naïve but not stupid runt of the litter. Picerni and Carey are also good in their stock roles. The screenplay was based on a story by future cult director Sam Fuller. The biggest surprise for me was that [SPOILER] none of the main characters die; even the wounded sergeant from the beginning apparently recovers. [TCM]

BLIND ADVENTURE (1933)

Robert Armstrong, a American tourist in London, wants to get a taste of real English life; while he's wandering around in a thick London fog, he winds up in a big, seemingly deserted house and finds a dead body in a chair. He races out to the street and bumps into Englishman Tyrell Davis, but when they return to the house, the body is gone and the man of the house (Henry Stephenson) and his wife insist they've been there all along. Stephenson's niece, Helen Mack, who has only just arrived for a visit from Canada and hasn't seen her uncle in years, tries to comfort Armstrong, when who should show up but the corpse in the chair (Ralph Bellamy) who tells the two that he's a secret agent who is about to expose Stephenson as a fraud and a thief. Bellamy gets Armstrong, Mack, and a friendly cat burglar (Roland Young) to help him, but soon it becomes clear that Bellamy may not be a good guy at all. Who can Armstrong and Mack trust? Is anyone telling the truth? This is a light-hearted thriller which reminded me of a Hitchcock film from the year before, NUMBER SEVENTEEN, with its limited sets (a couple of row houses), people sneaking in and out of said houses, nobody being quite who they seem to be, and even a bungling burglar. Armstrong, who was fairly wooden in KING KONG, is peppier here, and he and Mack make a nice pair; Young is fun as always. The plot twists are fairly predictable but are still fun to follow. (Pictured are Armstrong and Mack, with Bellamy in the mirror.) [TCM]

THE LOVERS (1958)

Jeanne is a bored wife and mother who lives out in the country. Henri, her husband, a newspaper publisher, is occupied with his job and benignly ignores her, so she takes frequent trips to Paris to stay with her cosmopolitan friend Maggie and while there, carries on a rather perfunctory affair with Raoul, a celebrity polo player. Henri doesn’t approve of her Paris friends, and one night, during a drunken row, he insists that she invite Maggie and Raoul to spend a night in the country with them. On the day of the visit, Jeanne's car breaks down and a handsome young man named Bernard helps her. At first she seems almost scornful of him, but when he agrees to drive her to her house, she warms up a bit. At dinner that night, Bernard is mostly an observer as the other four chat and bicker. Restless, Jeanne gets up in the middle of the night and goes for a moonlit walk, runs into Bernard, and they have a romantic episode that leads to canoodling in a canoe, splashing naked in a tub, and eventually having sex. The next morning, he impulsively asks her to leave with him, and she impulsively says yes, so they drive off, giving no explanations to anyone, into an uncertain future.

This film from early in director Louis Malle's career was an art-house hit in America mostly because of the scandalous nocturnal lovemaking of Jeanne (Jeanne Moreau) and Bernard (Jean-Marc Bory). Not only do we get a glimpse of Moreau's nipple, but later the camera remains on her face as Bory's head slides down her torso out of camera range, and her face registers non-exaggerated ecstasy. Nowadays, this would practically be rated PG-13, but still, there is a certain erotic frisson in the lush, romantic slowness of the entire episode. The ambiguous ending prefigures THE GRADUATE, as we see the dawning realization of what the two have done on their faces, and they're not quite smiling. The acting is fine and the photography of the nighttime escapade is atmospheric, if perhaps a bit too bright—a fault of the day-for-night shooting. Some fine dialogue: Henri, to Maggie about her promiscuous lifestyle: "You feel younger sleeping in some stranger's love nest or deathbed?"; Maggie: "I don't think about that—I just try not to clash with what's in style." [DVD]