CODE 7, VICTIM 5 (1964)

In Cape Town, South Africa, we see a New Year's parade of people in skull-face make-up dancing through the streets. One man wends his way through the crowds, looking a little fearful, and sure enough, we see him duck down an empty street only to be confronted by men in distorted clown masks who stab him to death. The dead man was the butler (and good friend) to a rich copper mining honcho named Wexler (Walter Rilla), and when Wexler decides that solving the crime is beyond the ability of the local police, he hires American private eye Steve Martin (Lex Barker). Martin arrives in Cape Town and is picked up by Wexler's loyal (and lovely) secretary Helga, but they find themselves followed by a car that eventually tries to run them off the road—though ultimately, it's the chaser who winds up careening down a cliff to fiery death. At Wexler's, we meet Gina, his stepdaughter; Paul, Wexler's doctor who is dating Gina; George, the gruff mines overseer, who seems to have a thing for Helga. We also meet Inspector Lean (Ronald Fraser), a rather homely fellow who somehow has a way with the ladies—honestly, the sexual attraction mapping in the movie is a little unclear, or a little all over the place, so I was not always sure who was serious about whom. Near the body of the butler, Lean found a photograph of four men, taken years ago in a POW camp; one of them is the butler, who has a large X marked across him, and one of the other men is Wexler. Wexler is reluctant to be helpful, but when another one of the men in the photograph is killed, he starts to open up about what happened in the camp, how it led to his current riches in the copper mines, and who might be stalking him.

This film was marketed as a secret agent movie (the not-very-subtle reference to Agent 007, James Bond, in the title, which was originally VICTIM FIVE) but it's not. It's a detective thriller with some adventure elements and attractive, sometimes bikini-clad, young women. As such, it works well as an example of the faux-spy thriller of the 60s—I don't really know if there are enough movies like this to constitute a genre, but it feels quite familiar. Barker is passable in the lead; he is, in his late 40s, perhaps a shade past his prime, but you don't need too much suspension of disbelief to buy him as a two-fisted hero. The Danish Ann Smyrner (as Helga) and the French Veronique Vendell (as Gina) are attractive, and better actors than they need to be for their rote roles. I didn't like the mild but somewhat silly comic relief of Ronald Fraser in the beginning, but he grew on me. Smaller roles are well played by Dietmar Schonherr as Dr. Paul and Howard Davis as Rawlings. The plot keeps you on your toes, with an unexpected twist involving one of the later victims, but it's easy to follow. The location shooting is nice. The action scenes are a bit underwhelming (a tired-looking lion on the attack, an ostrich stampede) but it was hard to dislike this bit of 60s crime fluff. Pictured are Vendell, Smyrner and Barker. [Blu-Ray]

UNKNOWN ISLAND (1948)

Nature photographer Ted has gotten his rich fiancée Carole to pay for an expedition to a previously unexplored South Seas island; as a Navy pilot during the war, Ted had snapped a picture of what looked like a living dinosaur on the island, and he's hoping to take better pictures of them. At a bar in Singapore, they meet with the roughneck Captain Tarnowski to charter his boat, used to transport wild animals, to visit the island. Tarnowski brings along John, a former sailor who was trapped on the island during the war and saw giant monsters kill most of his fellow soldiers. No one believed his stories and, traumatized by his experience, he became a broken-down drunk. Once our cozy crew get to the island, they do indeed see dinosaurs and gorilla-type things. Ted gets his pictures, but Tarnowski decides he wants to take a creature back to civilization and get rich with it. Of course, mayhem follows, as creatures kill people, people kill people, Tarnowski assaults Carole, John falls for Carole, Carole falls out of love with Ted, and the natives abscond with the launch so everyone is stuck on the island. 

Anyone who comments on this inevitably compares it to both THE LOST WORLD (dinosaurs) and KING KONG (island with killer gorilla), though as this is strictly B-moviemaking, this will always lose out in direct competition. Coming out as it did in the late 40s, it’s interesting mostly as an odd outlier: too late for the mid-40s monster movie revival, too early for the sci-fi boom of the late 50s. It's in color, but it’s a cheap-looking process. The effects are not exactly terrible considering the era, with a mix of people in costumes, stop-motion models, and puppets; the creatures probably passed muster for younger viewers in the past. The final battle gets a bit gory with the gorilla-thing biting a hole in the dinosaur's chest. Between monster attacks, human melodrama takes center stage and it's difficult to care about any of the humans. Ted (Phillip Reed) is weak but not evil; John (Richard Denning) is a broken-down wreck but gets healthier; Carole (Virginia Grey) is bland, and all of them have murky motivations. That leaves only the brute captain (Barton MacLane) who does provide someone to root against. It's hard to like or dislike this film much, and I kind of enjoyed the dinosaur/monster scenes as I do with Gamera movies. [YouTube]

WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS (1934)

In Scotland, plain-looking 26-year-old Maggie Wylie (Helen Hayes) has just been jilted by the minister of Galashiels, and the men of her family—father Alick and brothers David and James—are highly protective of her, though the befuddled James keeps accidentally bringing up the minister by accident. But we see that Maggie is tougher and more clear-eyed than her family thinks. When the Wylies set a trap to catch a late-night burglar, they discover that it's the insolent but handsome student John Shand (Brian Aherne), who has been breaking in to read books in their library to further his education. The men concoct a plan: they will give John money to finish his education and if in five years' time Maggie is still single, he will marry her. Maggie is under no delusion that the serious John—who claims to have never laughed in his entire life—will actually be in love with her, but she goes along with the plan. Five years later, John, a political firebrand who wants to abandon the gold standard, has just won a seat in Parliament and it's time for him to marry. Maggie tears up their contract but he still agrees to the coupling, though we see trouble ahead in the person of Lady Sybil (Madge Evans), a lady of "quality," who flirts with him a bit on election night. Over time, Maggie is a help to him in his career, but eventually John and Sybil begin a secret affair. When Maggie finds out, she seems to accept it, but when Sybil asks her what she's going to do about it, she replies, "That would be telling." Sure enough, Maggie does have a plan which involves encouraging their relationship by sending him off to stay in the country to stay with Sybil's aunt, the Contessa, then getting Sybil out there as well, perhaps hoping that their fling will burn itself out. The Contessa is on Maggie's side, and Maggie busies herself with furthering John's career, even as the potential of divorce would be a scandal that might end it. What will win out: the frippery of a romantic dalliance or the practical concerns of reputation?

Based on a J.M. Barrie play, this romantic comedy is predictable but charming and, due mostly to Helen Hayes, remains interesting throughout. Part of the charm is the character of Maggie, who accepts her lot in life at the beginning of the story (and is made of stronger stuff than her brothers think) but manages to steer her relationship with John where she wants it to go. I'm not sure how "feminist" she would be seen today, as most of her actions are quite calculating and concerned with keeping a man who doesn't really love her. They have a close and respectful daily life, but I found it a bit daring that, by the end (Spoiler!), she wins out over Sybil even as it's still not clear if he loves her (in the final moment, she does finally make him laugh). The ending, which certainly plays out as happy, implies that they will continue their marriage largely for the sake of his career, but we are in the dark as to how deep their feelings for each other run. Hayes is very good at suggesting Maggie's hidden depths while seeming to be a relatively passive figure. Aherne is also fine with a character that could easily have lost our sympathies along the way. The rest of the cast is just as good, in particular Lucile Watson as the Contessa, Donald Crisp as the stern David, and Dudley Digges as the comic relief brother James—it seems strange to refer to "comic relief" in a movie that is a comedy, but the low-key antics of Digges always bring a chuckle. On second thought, maybe this isn't so much a romantic comedy as a "practical" comedy. [TCM]

BROADWAY (1929)

In an opening montage of Manhattan's bustling streets, we see a gigantic, shiny-skinned and somewhat demonic looking man in a loincloth striding through Times Square, spilling champagne onto the street below. After more montage shots that slide right and left across the screen, we settle on the Paradise Club, a huge nightclub with a large Art Deco stage area that thrusts out among the patrons' tables. We meet the characters who are present tonight and whose storylines will intertwine. Roy is the club's lead singer and dancer who is backed by a bevy of chorus girls. One of them is Billie, whom Roy is sweet on and is grooming for an act they can take on the road (even though the act is just he and Billie, he tells her, "I can see our names in lights right now—Roy Lane and Company!"). But Billie has been hanging around with Steve, a bootlegger who works with the club's owner to keep the booze flowing. Steve is rich and slick, though his preferred way of addressing Billie is to say, "I love ya, little fella!" This, of course, causes the jealous Roy no end of irritation, to the point where he sends Billie a fake telegram, saying that her mother is sick, to stop her from going to a late night gold-diggers' party with Steve. Another chorus girl, the glum Pearl, has been seeing gangster Scar Edwards, who shows up to confront Steve for muscling in on his territory north of 125th Street. Steve solves the problem by shooting Scar in the back and dumping his body in a truck outside. As the production numbers on stage continue, cop Dan McCorn shows up and announces backstage that Scar's body was found not far from the club. Pearl faints, Steve plays dumb, and Dan hangs around, hoping Pearl will give him a lead in the killing. All these situations get resolved the next night with another murder (that the cop lets happen unpunished), a confession of love, and more stage numbers.

This early talkie musical based on a hit Broadway non-musical is more interesting than compelling. The stage set is fabulous, and the frequent swooping crane shots are impressive. The numbers themselves involve elaborate costumes, but the performances are static and repetitive; curtains open, Roy leads rows of chorus girls onto the stage, they perform perfunctorily and are presented in long shots that obscure the dancing (except for one close-up of Roy's feet as he tap dances), and then they all dance backwards offstage. It's difficult to care about the central couple, Roy (Glenn Tryon) and Billie (Merna Kennedy, both pictured at right). Tryon tries too hard, mostly mugging instead of building a character, and Kennedy comes off unsympathetically. Frankly, the predictable outcome of their story didn't much interest me. Evelyn Brent (Pearl, above left) and Robert Ellis (Steve) are much better. Contemporary critics praised the actor Thomas Jackson, Dan the cop, who played the part on stage a few years earlier, but I find his delivery artificial and portentous. The director, Paul Fejos, known for the somewhat experimental LONESOME, saves his flashy moves for the opening montages and the crane shots of the club interior. I chuckled at a few lines of dialogue. Tryon whips the girls up as they head to the stage by saying, "Cut 'em deep and let 'em bleed!" He also notes his sophistication by claiming, "I'm no prude—I'm for white wines and beer." A chorus girl dismisses the yammering Tryon by saying, "Untie your shoe—your tongue's out!" There is some cute comic relief provided by an older chorus girl (she looks at least 50) and her drunk sugar daddy who stumbles around saying, "I think I'm married." The last number was shot in Technicolor, but in the current restored print, the only color visible is red. An important early talkie relic, for film buffs only. [DVD]

VIOLENT ROAD (1958)

The Cyclone Rocket Company launched a test missile which crashed in a schoolyard, killing several children and mothers (we assume, based on a low-budget special effects shot), and now it must move out of its small city headquarters near a military base to a remote area in the desert. Mitch (Brian Keith) is a trucker who recently lost his job but heard through the grapevine that drivers would be needed to transport hazardous rocket fuel cargo. He arrives in town and is dropped off at the rocket company by Carrie, his lovely one-night stand—the two seem to be negotiating for a longer-term relationship but nothing gets settled. George (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a researcher at the company, agrees to let Mitch get a gang of drivers together to transport the fuel in three trucks across dangerous mountain and desert roads. They will each get $5,000 (over $40,000 in today's money) but he emphasizes that it must be done in two days' time, and that he's coming along (I was expecting a Quint/Brody rivalry like in JAWS but it doesn't happen). The drivers Mitch collects at the local tavern include Frank, a depressed retired officer who wishes to relive his glory days; Ben, a compulsive gambler; Ken, a young hot-shot race car driver; and Manuelo, a Latino mechanic who hopes to use his pay to go to engineering school. They take off, two in each truck, fresh and optimistic, with Ken singing a jaunty little tune about breezing down the road, but problems soon crop up, including a road obstacle, a runaway school bus, and a dangerous leak of rocket fuel. We also get a couple of flashbacks that show us Frank's troubled marriage and explain that George's wife and daughter were killed in the rocket accident.  One of the drivers dies, two sustain hand and arm injuries leaving only three able drivers, and one truck breaks down. The odds don't favor success, but they keep pushing on.

The description of this movie makes it sound like the French classic The Wages of Fear (men transporting nitroglycerine through dangerous South American mountains) though this is strictly B-level movie-making. However, that doesn't mean it should be dismissed; considered as a second-feature, it's fairly entertaining even if the tension and suspense never get ratcheted up very high. For beefcake fans like me, there’s the burly, hairy Brian Keith bossing everyone around (but in a nice-guy way). There's also the fairly young Efrem Zimbalist, looking suburban-dad handsome. Perry Lopez (Escobar in CHINATOWN) is just as handsome as Manuelo. Best of all is 20-year-old blond pup Sean Garrison as Ken—he's sexy (in a kind of bland late 50s way) and his character is the most likable. Joanna Barnes has a small role in flashbacks as Efrem's wife, and starlet Merry Anders is Keith's pick-up who magically turns up at the finale. There are plotholes galore: Why were rockets being tested in a suburban town in the first place?  Why did no one else from the company drive along with the men for safety's sake? Why does Frank's wife turn up out of nowhere at a dramatic moment? Still, there's enough action here to sustain its 90 minute run time. And, another plus, it looks like all the road scenes were shot on location rather than on a backlot which helps (marginally) with the realism of the trip. Pictured are Keith and Zimbalist [DVD]

FOXHOLE IN CAIRO (1960)

In 1942, the British are in retreat in Africa, and Rommel sends two spies to Cairo, on a mission dubbed Operation Condor, to get information on where the Brits will counter-attack. John (Adrian Hoven) has spent time in Cairo and is known as something of a playboy. He's accompanied by Sandy (Neil McCallum), a radio operator who has a short-wave device hidden in a portable phonograph. They cross vast amounts of desert in captured British trucks to get to Cairo unseen, but British spy chief Robertson (John Robertson Justice) is suspicious of reports of the British trucks on the move and is prepared to have his men hunt for the spies. John and Sandy arrive in Cairo and we meet a motley group of people who get involved in this game of espionage, including Amina, a belly dancer who knows John and is much desired by British intelligence officer Wilson; Radek and Yvette, two members of a Jewish underground organization who are willing to help the British; Weber and Aberle, two German radiomen who are hiding in the desert outside of Cairo to pick up Sandy's messages (using a code tied to a copy of Daphne DuMaurier's Rebecca, which the two spies read out loud to pass the time between radio messages). We also check in periodically with Rommel, anxious to get the info that John is trying to get his hands on. Will Robertson's suspicions pay off, or will John and Sandy manage to outwit the rather hapless Wilson, who winds up in possession of the British plans?

I'd never heard of this until it came up as a YouTube suggestion for me. For a wartime spy story, it's not terribly exciting, but it kept my interest as the various characters performed their little dances of deception around and with each other. At times, it has the look and feel of a TV drama, but the sets occasionally conjure up the spirit of CASABLANCA. The acting is spotty, not helped by some weak writing. The burly John Robertson Justice is rather bland and one-note, but that is partly because his character, though at the center of the story, isn't terribly active. Given better chances to shine are Adrian Hoven as John, who probably has the most screen time of anyone here, Robert Urquhart as the weak-willed Wilson, and Fenella Fielding as Yvette. Gloria Mestre (Amina) gets a couple of rather extraneous belly-dancing scenes. For some, this movie will be of interest because it features a young Michael Caine as Weber, one of the radio men, several years before his big break in ALFIE. Pictured are Hoven and McCallum. [YouTube]

PAINT YOUR WAGON (1969)

During the Gold Rush days in California, grizzled prospector Ben Rumson (Lee Marvin) witnesses two men fall down a hill from a wagon train of settlers. One of the two, a young boy, dies, but his older brother (Clint Eastwood) survives. As Ben helps attend to the man, he finds gold in the dirt and stakes a claim, and insists on sharing it with the man whom he calls Pardner. Ben and Pardner become good friends, sharing money and a cabin, and soon a little town has been built, called No Name City, with an all-male occupancy of prospectors. One day, a Mormon man comes through with his two wives; the townspeople, telling him that "plural marriage" isn't legal in California, get him to auction off one of his wives, the young and lovely Elizabeth (Jean Seberg). A drunken Ben bids enough to claim her, also getting "all her mineral resources," in the words of the auctioneer. Once Elizabeth shows that she's no passive pushover, she and Ben forge a decent marriage until she finds herself attracted to Pardner, and he to her. When Ben figures this out, Elizabeth suggests that the three live together, in a Mormon-like arrangement, and Ben and Pardner agree. When the men of the town hear that a group of "French bawds" is nearby, they hijack the stagecoach and get them to establish a whorehouse for the lonely men. Soon the town is booming, with many cathouses and saloons, and Ben gets the bright idea of digging tunnels under the establishments to collect the substantial amount of gold dust that gets scattered by paying customers. Trouble between Ben and Elizabeth leads to Ben leaving the friendly menage, but more trouble comes when the structural integrity of the secret tunnels threatens the very existence of the town.

This is one of the notorious big movie musical flops of the late 1960s and early 70s (Camelot, Mame, Star!, Doctor Dolittle) that led to the temporary end of the musical as a going concern and gutted the finances of a few studios. But as the excellent book Roadshow!: The Fall of Film Musicals in the 1960s by Matthew Kennedy points out, some of these movies drew respectable crowds. Paint Your Wagon was actually among the top 10 moneymakers of its year, but it still didn't make enough money to cover its huge budget. The real problem wasn’t so much people didn’t go to see these movies, but that the studios spent way too much money trying to come up with another Sound of Music. I'd avoided seeing this, lumping it in with those other bombs, but actually this isn't bad. It would have worked much better as a non-musical, I think, as none of the songs were memorable except perhaps "They Call the Wind Maria," and the songs don't really move the plot along. (What amounts to the title song, actually called "I'm On My Way" is also catchy.) The leads can't sing, which is probably why "Maria" is given to Harve Presnell; his character is minor but he was an actual singer/actor. The menage a trois arrangement works surprisingly well, as a plot device and between the characters, and was a selling point for the times—the film was advertised as bawdy and rebellious. Eastwood, Marvin and Seberg are, singing aside, fine, and Presnell and Ray Walston stand out in support. Largely filmed on location, an entire town was built, mostly so it could be destroyed at the end, and the climax, as the town's buildings all collapse, is impressive. It's not quite a traditional western, and doesn't really work as a traditional musical, but it's worth a viewing. [DVD]

THE BRIGHTON STRANGLER (1945)

On New Year's Eve, we see a man named Edward Grey strangle a woman to death only to discover that we're watching the last scene of a play. Grey is a character being played by Reginald Parker in a hit play written by his fiancée Dorothy Kent. But after a year, he's tired of playing the part and this December 23rd performance is the last. Parker is heading to Victoria Station to take a train to be with Dorothy to marry her over the holidays. But he's caught in a bombing raid, gets a concussion and loses his memory. Wandering in a daze to the station, he overhears a woman named April ask for a ticket to Brighton which sparks a memory of some dialogue in his play and he too goes to Brighton under the name Edward Grey. He becomes friendly with April, who has secretly married a pilot named Bob but hasn't yet told her family for fear that they will worry unduly about him. As he helps her carry out her subterfuge, allowing April to spend time with Bob, Dorothy gets the news that Reginald was a casualty of the London raid, so no one is looking for Reginald as he, thinking he's Edward, begins a murder spree based on incidents from the play. Bob, seeing a poster of Reginald in a bar, puts two and two together, but as it's now New Year's Eve, will he be able to stop Grey from acting out the climax for real—with April?

The device of having an actor get carried away by a murderous role was used a couple of years later in Ronald Colman's A Double Life. This B-movie second feature runs just a bit over an hour, so it doesn't have time to explore the gimmick with any real psychological depth, but its length keeps it focused and moving at a good clip. B-lead John Loder (pictured) is quite good as the actor turned killer, and despite his crimes, we remain sympathetic to him to the end. June Duprez (as April) and Rose Hobart (as Dorothy) are adequate. Michael St. Angel, an American actor I'd never heard of, is good in the limited role of Bob the pilot. It's mostly thanks to Loder and some atmospheric cinematography that the movie works as well as it does. A nice little B-movie gem. [YouTube]

THE PATHFINDER (1952)

In 1754, England and France are tangling over American land around the Great Lakes, and there is bad blood between two Indian tribes: the Mohicans who have sided with Britain, and the more militant Mingos who are with France. The Mingos attack a Mohican village, killing everyone except a child named Uncas. Chingachgook, a Mohican brave, is spared because he was off with his friend, the white man called Pathfinder, who was raised by the Mohicans. War is declared (which came to be known as the French and Indian War) and the British ask Pathfinder to serve as a spy with the French-speaking Welcome Alison as interpreter. At the French camp, Pathfinder and Chingachgook offer their services to the French as scouts, and Welcome uses her feminine wiles to find out some important information about a coming supply train that Pathfinder plans to stop before it gets to camp. But who should show up to join the French than Capt. Bradford, Welcome’s former fiancé who went off with an Indian maiden. When he threatens to blow Pathfinder's cover, a new plan must be put in place.

Everything I know about the books of James Fenimore Cooper comes from the movie THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS in which Uncas and Chingachgook are characters. I also know that Pathfinder is named Natty Bumpo but he is never called that here. I can't speak to the movie's fidelity to Cooper—or to its portrayal of the French and Indian War—but I can say that this is a generally enjoyable time-passing adventure of Colonial America. George Montgomery (pictured), a pleasing B-lead actor, is fine as Pathfinder, and Helena Carter (no relation to Helena Bonham Carter), who had a fairly short career in B-films, is fine as Welcome. Jay Silverheels (Tonto on the Lone Ranger TV show) has little to do as Chingachgook, and Bruce Lester is appropriately slimy as Bradford. This is one of those little movies that has almost completely fallen between the cracks, having apparently left very little impression on anyone at the time of its release. I watched it because I'm a fan of Montgomery, but otherwise this is probably best viewed on a couch, with your feet on the coffee table, on a lazy Saturday afternoon. [TCM]

KID MILLIONS (1934)

Egyptologist Edward Grant Wilson has died and left a $77 million inheritance to his next of kin. Dot Clark (Ethel Merman), a music store plugger—someone who sings songs for customers in order to sell sheet music—figures she's in store for the money, as she'd had an affair with him, and her gangster boyfriend Louie says she can claim to be Wilson's common-law wife. But Larrabee, head of a museum foundation that Wilson worked with, figures the money should go to the museum. Wilson's lawyers, however, track down Wilson's son Eddie (Eddie Cantor) who has lived in obscurity on a barge with his bullying stepbrothers. All three parties wind up on a ship headed for Egypt. Dot, accompanied by Louie, tells Eddie she is his mother—even though she says she's 19 and he's 25—and Louie thinks of ways to kill Eddie. Larrabee is traveling with his attractive young niece Joan (Ann Sothern) who engages in some flirting with Eddie even though her long-suffering boyfriend Jerry (George Murphy) is also on board. In Egypt, they all have adventures involving a sheik, his daughter (who falls for Eddie), a lost treasure, and a roomful of talking mummies. Not to mention all the songs and production numbers.

Eddie Cantor, a huge star of vaudeville, radio and Broadway, is now, like many other performers with such roots in the 20s and 30s, something of an acquired taste, though he's not as overbearing as others like Al Jolson, Joe E. Brown, or Bert Lahr. Based on this and ROMAN SCANDALS, his persona seems to be that of a likable but naïve guy who nevertheless manages to come out on top. Here, he does indeed wind up with the money (which he uses to build a huge ice cream factory) and even more or less becomes pals with his rivals. Merman almost steals the show from Cantor, and Sothern and Murphy are pleasant. There is a huge minstrel show number on the ship which highlights the fabulous dancing of the Nicholas Brothers. Warren Hymer has a few nice moments as Louie, and Doris Davenport has the small role of Eddie's love interest back home. The lovely and often scantily-clad Goldwyn Girls appear in dance numbers (supposedly a young Lucille Ball is present among them). The finale, in early Technicolor, is set in a huge ice cream factory and plays out much more like a dream than reality. The talking mummy scene is cute, and there's a fun line in the song "When My Ship Comes In" when Cantor sings about having "Walter Disney paintings on the wall." The pace never flags, although at 90 minutes, I was ready for it to end. But overall, it's enjoyable enough, especially now as pandemic distraction. Pictured are Cantor and Davenport. [DVD]

PSYCHE 59 (1964)

Five years ago (I'm guessing in 1959, based on the movie's title, since it's set in the present, i.e. 1964), Alison Crawford (Patricia Neal), while pregnant, fell down the stairs. She recovered and went on to deliver a healthy baby, but she suffers from hysterical blindness. The doctors can find no physical reason why she can't see and the general suspicion is that something traumatic happened before her fall that she has suppressed—what’s referred to as a "hole" in her memory. Now, Alison and her husband Eric (Curt Jurgens) are welcoming Alison's younger sister Robin (Samantha Eggar) back into their home after her marriage fell apart. Eric is not comfortable with the arrangement, though we don't know why. When Robin returns, she is not having much luck on the dating scene, complaining, "All the men I used to know have either gotten married or gone queer." Family friend Paul (Ian Bannen) serves as a platonic companion to Alison but clearly has designs on Robin (Paul seems to be neither married nor ‘queer’). When the quartet head out to a country house for a vacation, simmering tensions begin rising, and we discover that Eric and Robin were engaged in an affair five years ago, so it becomes obvious that Alison's repressed trauma has to do with the two of them, which is not really a spoiler since this has been pretty clear from about 15 minutes into the movie. So the score card stands at: Eric has been avoiding rekindling this relationship with Robin; Robin is pressing him to do so; Robin is also teasing Paul; at times, Paul seems like he might have an "older woman" thing for Alison; Eric's aged mother may know than she is letting on; and poor Alison is stumbling (physically and emotionally) around in the dark. When Alison experiences another fall, her sight slowly returns—will her memory of five years ago return?

This is a rather gloomy-looking psychological melodrama filled with close-ups of people's faces and hands. As such, it drags on a bit, though the performances are uniformly fine. Jurgens is a bit too old for the part, but he and Neal do have an interesting chemistry, more of familiarity and respect than of love. Eggar, looking young and beautiful and very much of the 60s, steals most of her scenes if only because she is so radiant and energetic when no one else around her is. Bannen is fine in a somewhat limited role—his character seems largely extraneous to the plot. Beatrix Lehmann is quite good in the similarly limited role of Eric's mother. Neal's performance gets a bit repetitious, but I think that has more to do with the way her character is written than with her acting. For most of the film, she's a rather passive presence, reminding me a bit of Audrey Hepburn in WAIT UNTIL DARK (another blind woman, though in much more physical peril than Neal is). Today, the idea of a memory "hole" due to repressed trauma is fairly common, and therefore the trajectory of the narrative will be more predictable for us than it might have been in 1964. So this winds up more interesting as a period piece than truly compelling. Pictured are Bannen and Eggar. [TCM]

THE DEADLY AFFAIR (1967)

British intelligence is sent an anonymous letter accusing an agent named Fennan of being a Communist sympathizer. Charlie Dobbs (James Mason) has the unpleasant duty of asking Fennan if there's any truth to the claim. The two have a relatively friendly chat in a London park and Dobbs is certain that there is no substance to the accusation. Nevertheless, the next morning, Fennan is found dead in his home, an apparent suicide. Dobbs has another unpleasant duty which is to go talk to Elsa, the widow (Simone Signoret), a concentration camp survivor. He soon suspects that Fennan's death may be murder, but his bosses aren't interested, so he resigns temporarily and gets some help from a policeman friend (Harry Andrews) to keep probing the situation. In his private life, Dobbs has more drama on his hands: his young wife Anne (Harriet Andersson) is openly carrying on any number of affairs with younger men. Soon, another young man is on the scene: Dieter Frey (Maximillian Schell), an old friend of Charlie's, was a former agent who had been under Charlie's command and is now a chocolate company executive. He shows up from Switzerland on a business trip. Their reunion is a happy one, but eventually Charlie begins to suspect that Dieter and Anne are having an affair. Eventually, Charlie realizes that there is more to Elsa than the grieving widow she appears to be, and as he uncovers a web of deceit that touches him personally, he may wish he had let well enough alone.

This low-key spy thriller is based on John Le Carré's first novel "Call for the Dead" and if you know Le Carré, you'll know to expect gloom, betrayal and introspection rather than the action and sex that filled most spy movies of the 60s. Still, this is a tense and compelling movie with no false moves, a complex but comprehensible plot, and great acting all around. Mason is perhaps a smidge too old for the lead role, in relation to his wife who looks a good 25 years younger than Dobbs—in the book, his character is named George Smiley, who was featured in many more Le Carré books and films. Otherwise, Mason gives a fine performance. Virtually everyone else is good, especially Signoret, whose character is the most complex. I also liked Harry Andrews as the cop friend and Kenneth Haigh as a fellow agent of Charlie's who helps him out. There’s not much humor except in one scene that feels like an elaborate in-joke with cameos by Lynn Redgrave (as a clumsy stage manager) and her brother Corin (as a director of a low-rent production of Macbeth). This one seems to have fallen between the cracks of the 60s spy movie canon but it's well worth a viewing. Pictured are Schell and Mason. [Criterion Channel]

THE LAST OUTPOST (1935)

In Kurdistan in World War I, British soldier Michael Andrews (Cary Grant) has been captured and is set to be executed by the Kurds, but a Turkish officer (Claude Rains) frees him and they escape together. The officer, who only gives his name as Smith, is actually a British spy and he and Andrews head out across the desert to warn the Bakhtiari tribes that the Kurds are on an exterminating binge and they need to leave the area. As the tribes migrate, a fellow British officer named Cullen tries to plant doubts about Smith's allegiance in Andrews' mind; when Smith discovers Cullen signaling the enemy, he kills him, which causes Andrews to attack Smith, but Andrews injures his leg badly and Smith, who explains the situation, gets Andrews taken to a hospital in Cairo. While recuperating, Andrews falls for his nurse, Rosemary Haydon (Gertrude Michael), and she for him. Rosemary soon admits to Andrews that she is actually married to a man named Stevenson, but she has been hiding her marital status in order to keep her nursing job. The two had only been married for a week before Stevenson left for the East, and she hasn't heard from him in three years. Movie buffs know the next development: Smith is given leave, shows up in Cairo, and it turns out he is actually Stevenson. When he discovers that Andrews and his wife are in love, and that Andrews has been sent into action in the Sudan, Stevenson follows, determined to exact revenge.

Grant is fine if undistinguished in one of his pre-stardom lead roles at Paramount—though I think he looks mighty fine with a thin mustache (see photo at left). The always reliable Rains tamps down his usual showiness and wisely underplays, for the most part, the role of the jealous husband. Michael gets rather lost between the two stars, and her character remains just a love triangle cliché. Jameson Thomas is fine as Cullen, and no one else gets much to do except an uncredited Akim Tamiroff in a small role as another prisoner of the Kurds. As most critics point out, lots of stock footage is used, apparently largely from the silent documentary Grass about an actual migration of a Bakhtiari tribe, and it's obvious by its graininess and silent-movie speediness. There is also some footage at the end of various animals (zebras, elephants, monkeys) stampeding. A decent little colonial-era adventure-melodrama, worth seeing mostly for Grant and Rains. [DVD]

WHISKY GALORE! (1949)

It's 1943, in the midst of World War II, and rationing has taken its toll on a small Scottish island in the Hebrides—the whisky is all gone, and no one knows when more will arrive. The men of the island hope that Winston Churchill will attend to the problem soon; since the island has no cinema or dance hall, what else is there to do but drink? The villagers are morose, with one elderly man even taking to his deathbed, until the S.S. Cabinet Minister, a cargo ship carrying 50,000 bottles of whisky, founders on the rocks on a foggy Saturday night. When word spreads that all that whisky might wind up at the bottom of the sea, a group of men take it upon themselves to "save" the cargo and distribute it around the village. Of course, it being the Sabbath, they have to wait until midnight Monday morning to act. Meanwhile, the self-important Captain Waggett, head of the Home Guard, suspecting that the locals will be attracted to the stuff, has young volunteer Sammy stand guard at the cliff near the wreck. When three locals creep up behind Sammy that night, doing the stealthy "panther crawl," they're not really so stealthy, but Sammy helps them tie him up so the plundering of the whisky can be carried out. The islanders are ecstatic with their haul—even the dying man is suddenly healthy again—but Waggett is, of course, upset, and when his superior officer arrives, the two set out to reclaim the whisky. Can the islanders outwit the military and hang on to their liquid treasure?

This is a delightful Ealing Studios comedy, though the plot summary above doesn't do the movie justice. The narrative is fun, but the bulk of the comedy comes from character—and solid acting. Basil Radford is the hapless villain, Captain Waggett, though it's difficult to dislike him too much. Joan Greenwood and Gabrielle Blunt are the storekeeper's daughters, both of whom are to be married—though one of the pairings depends on holding an island ritual that requires the drinking of whisky. The handsome John Gregson (the fiancé in THE HOLLY AND THE IVY) is the helpful Sammy, James Robertson Justice is the town doctor, and the standout is the young Gordon Jackson (pictured) as George, one of the soon-to-be husbands, if he can ever stand up to his domineering mother (Jean Cadell) who locks him in his room when he sasses her back. Do you think a little whisky will give him some backbone? Much of the film is predictable, but it's fun to watch it all play out, and location shooting is lovely and atmospheric. A joy. [TCM]

THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN (1930)

Small-town immigrant barber Adolf Wagenkamp is excited about investing some money he's saved in a local savings and loan business with his friend Joe Higginson. He wants to make his wife vice-president and knows he'll be able to comfortably support their five children. But when he discovers that his son Ludwig has serious health problems, he instead uses the money to send him to a sanitarium out west to recover. As the years pass, Adolf continues sacrificing for his children who never seem as grateful as they should be. Ludwig is now a doctor but to his family's dismay, he has Americanized his name to Lawrence Warren, and when he comes home from years away at school, he chooses to spend more time with his girlfriend's family than his own. When Ludwig is struggling to set up his office, Adolf secretly mortgages his barber shop to loan his son some money; when Ludwig becomes successful, Adolf can't get him to pay back the loan. Johnnie fancies himself an inventor and shows off his shaving cream gun which is a little too enthusiastic in its application of cream to a face, and when he pilfers some money from his workplace, Adolf digs into his pockets to pay it back. Meanwhile, daughter Alma has been sneaking around with Joe Higginson's obnoxious and snooty son Nick who is no good for her. Other problems rain down on poor Adolf, but all he wants on Christmas Eve, even as he stands to lose his barber shop, is for his children to come home for Christmas dinner. Will his ungrateful spawn show up?

This feels a little bit like IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE without the angelic interlude, with Nick's dad, Mr. Higginson, serving as a sort of Mr. Potter character—it's because of him that the barber shop is in danger. The plot leans toward melodrama but to its credit keeps a fairly light tone so that even when things are at their bleakest for Adolf, it doesn't seem grim. I suppose it's technically a [SPOILER] to note that, in fact, the kids do show up and rally around the old man, but that seems like a foregone conclusion. None of the children are truly bad, just thoughtless, so you know a happy ending is in store. Louis Mann, an actor I'm not familiar with, is fine as the put-upon patriarch whom you wish would show more backbone throughout. His wife is Clara Blandick (Auntie Em in OZ) but her character is barely sketched in. Robert Montgomery gets second billing even though his role as Nick is fairly small (and he's rather bland). Standouts among the adult kids are Elliott Nugent as the inventor and Francis X. Bushman Jr. as the doctor. Despite the characters' weaknesses, you never really dislike them and you keep hoping they will come through. Some viewers find the ending to be far-fetched, but c'mon, it’s Christmas—how else could it end? Pictured are Mann and Nugent. [TCM]

THE VISIT (1964)

The small town of Gullen has fallen on hard times: the mines have mostly closed, the young people are leaving, and the town government is on the edge of bankruptcy. Yet the townsfolk are going all out to prepare for a "great event": the fabulously wealthy widow Karla Zachanassian (Ingrid Bergman) is returning to her hometown for a visit after twenty years away. No one knows why, but they assume that she is prepared to donate money to the town to keep it solvent. She arrives with a splash, accompanied by a small entourage and a pet leopard, and she's met by the city council and by her former boyfriend Serge (Anthony Quinn) who takes her off to the hills to see the hut where they used to make out. That evening, the town throws her a huge dinner party. The atmosphere seems to be one of sweet nostalgia, but we can sense some tension in the air, and we soon find out why: when she was 17, she became pregnant by Serge, but he denied being the father and produced evidence to show that she was promiscuous, so the town basically drove her away. At the banquet, she rises to tell the truth about what happened (Serge paid two guys to say that they'd slept with Karla even though Serge knew he had to be the father). She left town, bore the child—who died soon after—and became a prostitute. Still bitter, despite her current social and financial standing, she makes the townspeople an offer: she'll give the town two million dollars, one million for the city and one million to be split among the people, if they will give her justice by executing Serge. The next day, the council votes 4-3 not to accept her offer, and Serge breathes a sigh of relief, but he soon realizes that most of his neighbors may be willing to take Karla up on her offer. Soon, Serge sees townspeople splurging on luxury items—Karla is extending credit to all—and knows that his days may be numbered.

I've resisted watching this film, based on a well-regarded play by Friedrich Dürrenmatt (a musical version by Kander and Ebb hit Broadway in 2015), for one simple reason: Twentieth Century Fox has refused to make a widescreen print of this film available, on cable or on DVD; the credits are letterboxed but the rest of the movie is presented in pan-and-scan. For shame, Fox. But when I came across a free library discard copy, I broke down and watched it, and I must say it is worth seeing, even in its bastardized form. The main situation borders on theater of the absurd (it's not clear why Serge doesn't just leave town; at one point, he decides to catch a train out, but the townspeople mill about him, stopping him from leaving, and he just gives up), but Bergman and Quinn make the characters real, and even sympathetic, to a point. Tension is built well throughout as we slowly feel the noose tighten around Serge, with even his friends and loved ones getting used to the idea of his murder. [MAJOR SPOILER: in the play, the people do kill him; here, they are stopped at the last minute by Karla. This seems like a Hollywood softening of the ending, but in some ways, this movie's conclusion is just as good in terms of moral criticism.] I'd still like to see the movie in widescreen, but I'm glad I gave in and made the best of what's out there. [DVD]

THE FLEMISH FARM (1943)

In May of 1940, Belgium's air force is in tatters, their final holdouts operating from a farmhouse. With the Germans on their way to declare victory, the commanding officer (Clive Brook) is ordered to destroy as much equipment and burn as many records as he and his men can. They hold a midnight burial at sea for their regiment's flag, and the next morning as they prepare to fly their airworthy planes to England and join up with the RAF, pilot Philip Friend is taken to task by fellow officer Clifford Evans for not showing up at the ceremony, and instead canoodling with Jane Baxter, a local farm gal. But what Evans doesn't know is that Friend has secretly married Baxter, and that while the sea burial was going on with a decoy flag, Friend was burying the real flag somewhere on the farm in hopes that it could eventually be retrieved. Months later, Evans learns the truth about the flag from Friend, but Friend is killed in action the next day. Evans decides to take it upon himself to go back to Belgium and get the flag. Once in Ghent, he contacts Brook (now retired but secretly working with a resistance group), goes to the farm that was their headquarters, and finds the widowed Baxter and her child. She is reluctant to help, seeing the flag as not important enough for anyone to risk their life over, but as one character notes, "Strange the magic there is in symbols," and she soon helps him find it. But the return to England is dangerous; will the whole effort have been in vain?

This is an interesting and little-known propaganda film, a variation on the wartime spy film (there are no traditional combat scenes, though there is spy-style tension built up in the final third of the movie). Clive Brook is top-billed, but the real star of the film is Clifford Evans (pictured), and though he was mostly a B-movie lead, he acquits himself well here, as do Philip Friend (in his short time onscreen) and Jane Baxter. It's all very low-key which makes it feel a bit more realistic than the average wartime spy thriller. There’s a nice scene, also low-key, involving Evans having to meet secretly with his mother in a public park. I don't know how effective this would have been in its days as (literally) flag-waving propaganda; despite the stress on the importance of symbols, I'm not sure I felt that all the effort—involving the death of at least one person—was really worth it. But as a different take on the WWII film, it's worth seeing. [YouTube]

TO HELL AND BACK (1955)

Audie Murphy was the most decorated American soldier of World War II. After the war, he became an actor, mostly in westerns and adventure films, and wrote a war memoir, To Hell and Back. When that book was bought for the screen, he was talked into playing himself. The movie was a huge hit, becoming Universal's biggest moneymaker until JAWS in 1975. The kinds of movies in which Murphy starred aren't typically my cup of tea, but I was impressed with him in THE QUIET AMERICAN, and he's almost as impressive here. The film begins with a brief segment showing Murphy growing up poor in rural Texas, quitting school to work, and, after Pearl Harbor, joining the Army at the age of 16. Murphy is young, innocent and short but he fits in with his infantry division, proves to be brave, and is promoted quickly along the way, from North Africa to the invasion of Sicily, through Italy and France. Despite a number of courageous acts and smart decisions made during battle, he is not portrayed as a glory-chasing loner; rather, he is well-liked and respected, and bonds with his fellow soldiers, most notably Johnson (Marshall Thompson) and Brandon (Charles Drake), both fictionalized versions of real people. Many of his friends die in combat, hence his advice to some newcomers not to make new friends but to stick to the ones you already know, because it's hard to watch your friends die.

I suspect it's not easy for an actor to play himself, but Murphy makes it look easy; he seems completely natural, commanding the screen in an almost self-effacing way. His heroics, particularly near the end when he fends off a group of German tanks almost single-handedly, don't feel exaggerated. The battle scenes are generally effective, though there are times when outdoor footage and studio-shot footage don't quite mesh as well as they should. There's a scene in Naples where Audie's buddies go off to find some female companionship; he winds up having dinner with a young woman named Maria (Susan Kohner, pictured at right with Murphy) and, though he goes to her room later, it's made clear he's just interested in talking. That sounds corny, but Murphy and Kohner pull it off. It may be strange to compliment a war movie for being low-key, but in this case, it works. This is the second time Murphy has impressed me in a movie—he's also a handsome fellow—so maybe it's time for me to search for some of his westerns. [TCM]

SMASHING TIME (1967)

Carnaby Street, with its hip fashion boutiques, bars, and discotheques, was the epicenter of the "Swinging 60s" in London. Lynn Redgrave and Rita Tushingham are two young women who have come to Carnaby from the North to make it to the big time, though their plans are rather vague. Lynn is the more outgoing of the two and tends to boss Rita around. When their money is stolen just after they arrive on the street, Lynn makes Rita do dishes to pay for a meal while Lynn goes prancing up and down Carnaby, showing off what she thinks of as her really gear fashion sense while actually hip photographer Michael York is snapping pictures of her to run in the paper to make fun of her. The rest of the movie is a mostly plotless collection of scenes showing their rise and fall in the world of 60s pop culture. They get jobs, lose jobs, cause trouble in a diner leading to a colorful food fight, cause trouble in a pie shop (named Sweenie Todd's) leading to a wild pie fight, go to parties, romance men, etc. Lynn winds up almost accidentally having a hit record with a song called "While I'm Still Young" ("I can’t sing but I'm young/Can't do a thing but I'm young/…I'm a fool but I'm cool"), but she becomes jealous when Rita finds success as a model and her face is everywhere. The somewhat apocalyptic climax occurs at a huge party when the girls wind up trashing a fancy building and blacking out much of London.

I remember seeing ads for this movie when I was 11 and wanting to see it, but I never did, and I've only now tracked it down on DVD. I'm sure I wouldn't have known how to take it back then, but now it works best now as a colorful historical snapshot of mid-60s London as viewed through a lens of outrageous satire and slapstick. The duo of Redgrave and Tushingham must have been at least partial inspiration years later for the characters of Edina and Patsy on Absolutely Fabulous. After the first few minutes, the movie leaves reality behind completely. The names of some of the characters (Wabe, Brillig, Tove) clue us in as a guide to viewing: the names are words from Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky from Alice in Wonderland, and this is a bit like Lynn and Rita in a fantasy London Wonderland. The comic bits are hit and miss, with the food fight and pie fight coming in tops for me, and the parody of a reality TV show less successful, although kudos to the scriptwriter George Melly for envisioning TV of the 21st century. Redgrave is fun, all bubbly and oblivious to everything around her. Tushingham is a little less enjoyable as the sad sack of the pair. A lot of supporting characters come and go, and Michael York, though third-billed, is just basically another one of those background people. The "Still Young" song is funny, and my favorite line echoes a small bit in A Hard Day’s Night: when throwing a huge party, Redgrave says, pretty much right to the camera, "Me coke bill alone is phenomenal," then after a beat, holds up a Coca-Cola bottle. Fun and fairly frothy, though by the end, it does wear out its welcome. Pictured are York and Redgrave. [DVD]

INTERNATIONAL HOUSE (1933)

Folks are converging on the International Hotel in the town of Wu Hu, China, to see and bid on the rights to a new invention by Dr. Wong: the Radioscope, an early version of television. And that, folks, is the entire plot of this movie which winds up being mostly a very hit-and-miss variety show with musicians performing and comedians doing their shtick in the service of what seems to be intended partly as a parody of the movie GRAND HOTEL. There are some characters with fairly stunted plotlines: Stuart Erwin is the mild-mannered hypochondriac representative of an American company hoping to buy the Radioscope, and when he complains of feeling ill, the hotel is put under quarantine; Peggy Hopkins Joyce plays herself, a stage actress famous for her riches and her divorces, in Wu Hu looking to hook up with a millionaire; Bela Lugosi is a Russian general and jealous former husband of Joyce's who is locked out of the hotel due to the quarantine; George Burns is the hotel doctor and Gracie Allen his nurse; Franklin Pangborn is the overwhelmed hotel manager; most importantly, W.C. Fields is a perpetually drunken eccentric who arrives in a autogyro (named the Spirit of South Brooklyn), having gotten lost on his way to Kansas City. 

But of course, the plot's not the thing here; the appeal is in the almost vaudeville-style comedy bits and songs. Fields is the star of the show and he's even funnier than usual, maybe because he doesn't have to worry about being a consistent character—he can just be mean and snarky all the time. I'd quote some of his lines, but that would take up the rest of this review. Lugosi is surprisingly good in a rare comic role. Viewers most likely to appreciate this film are those with at least a nodding acquaintance with 30s pop culture. Burns and Allen are Burns and Allen—if you like them (which I do), they don't disappoint. An odd radio comedy duo named Colonel Stoopnagle and Budd make a brief appearance; their slogan seems to have been, "Stoopnocracy is peachy." Rudy Vallee sings a love song to his megaphone and talks back to Fields through the TV set. Cab Calloway does a rather daring rendition of "Reefer Man," with lyrics like, "He smokes reefer, he gets high/And he flies to the sky." 10-year-old Baby Rose Marie (yes, the same Rose Marie who played Sally on The Dick Van Dyke Show) sings a song with a surprisingly adult snarl to her voice. Sterling Holloway dances in a surreal number (think Busby Berkeley) with the chorus, "She was a china tea cup and he was just a mug." The wild finale involves a car chase through the hotel. As I said earlier, it is a bit hit-and-miss, but the antic atmosphere will keep you going through the slower parts—usually those involving Stuart Erwin. Pictured are Joyce and Fields. [DVD]

DINOSAURUS! (1960)

On a Caribbean island, engineer Bart and his associate & best buddy Chuck are doing some blasting along a beach in preparation for building a new harbor that will being more tourists to the island. Mike Hacker, the island manager (whatever that means), is against the project and, as if that's not villainous enough, he mistreats Julio, his young ward, right out in public. Arriving in the middle of blasting is Betty, Bart's blond girlfriend. She and Bart frolic underwater until she passes out in fright when she sees a monstrous face in the water. Bart and Chuck harness their equipment (no double entendre intended) and drag out two gigantic perfectly preserved dinosaur bodies onto the beach: a T. Rex and a brontosaurus. At the same time, Mike discovers a third find ignored by the engineers—the mud-caked body of a caveman. He hides it under brush and plans to retrieve it that night and make a fortune selling it. 

Young Julio thinks the dinosaurs might be alive because the eyes of one of them are open, but no one pays attention to him—until that night during a storm when lighting hits them and they are both re-animated. Julio, in the woods having run away from Mike, befriends the "good" herbivore dinosaur, and when Mike returns to claim the caveman, he finds that he is gone, reanimated as well. There follows a comic sequence in which the caveman looks inside a house and locks eyes with a woman in curlers and cold cream—they both run screaming from each other, though the caveman eventually returns and has some slapstick run-ins with appliances, and even gets a Marx Brothers moment in reaction to a full-length mirror. With the T. Rex on the rampage—he crushes to death a trolley car full of people—the caveman helps both Julio and Betty escape death as Bart and Chuck rally the townspeople to take refuge at an old fortress surrounded by a dry moat which they set on fire, hoping to drive the T. Rex away. Sadly, the friendly brontosaurus succumbs to quicksand, but it takes Bart and a big construction truck to save the village.

This feels a bit schizophrenic—sometimes, when it's focused on the caveman and the herbivore dinosaur, it's a kiddie matinee (believe it or not, the bad guy even gets a pie in the face!), and sometimes, when the carnivore takes the spotlight, it's a horror thriller. It’s not as bad as its reputation would have it, as long as you're up for the differing moods and the inconsistent special effects. In the scenes using stop-motion clay figures, the dinosaurs are brought to life fairly well. In some close-ups, they substitute large puppets, or perhaps people in costumes, that are much less effective. The climax, involving what is clearly a toy truck on a miniature cliff, is a little disappointing. Some viewers may enjoy the B-movie beefcakiness of Ward Ramsey (Bart) and Paul Lukather (Chuck) who have a nice, casual rapport with each other (both pictured at right), and Gregg Martell as the caveman. Fred Engleberg is appropriately slimy as Mike, the under-motivated bad guy (he's mostly bad because there needs to be a bad guy in a movie like this). Kristina Hanson and Alan Roberts are fine as the heroine and the kid, both of whom are mostly around to be saved from danger by the beefcake men. There's a character affectionately named Dumpy, another less affectionately named Mousey, and an outrageously stereotyped Irish guy named O'Leary who becomes the dinosaur's first casualty, sparing us from hearing his terrible accent for long. The movie looks nice and colorful, though the day-for-night sequences are not good. Enjoyable for those with appropriate expectations. [YouTube]

A YANK IN LIBYA (1942)

This WWII adventure starts as an American dressed in Arabian clothing races through the streets of a town in Libya and enters a woman's room. She's startled but he begs her to hide a rifle he is carrying; he swiped it from Sheik David as proof that the Nazis are running guns in order to bring about unrest among the local tribes. She reluctantly agrees; he escapes through a window just before Sheik David enters. As the Sheik is friendly with the woman, Nancy Brooks (Joan Woodbury), he believes her when she claims that no one entered her room. The American, reporter Mike Malone (Walter Woolf King), goes to the British embassy to report what he knows to diplomat Phillip Graham, but is stonewalled by an older employee named Forbes (H.B. Warner). Mike drags Forbes to Nancy's apartment, but she denies the entire incident. In short order, we meet the rest of the characters: the diplomat Graham who in fact knows about the gunrunning and resents Mike's amateur attempts at spying; Sheik Ibrahim, second in command to Sheik David—while David has close ties to the British, Ibrahim is anxious to do the Nazis' bidding; a Czech businessman named Streyer; and an Arab street vendor named Parkyarkarkus (pronounced "park your carcass"—he befriends Mike and serves mostly as comic relief). As situations develop, we learn that not all these folks are quite what they seem, and the question is, will Mike be a help or a hindrance in quashing the local uprising aimed at destabilizing the region?

This Poverty Row film plays out a little more competently than others of its kind, partly due to lots of use of stock footage of crowds and action. However, the footage is mostly from the silent movie era—the movements are unnaturally sped up.  I didn't find it all that bothersome, but your mileage may vary. Otherwise, it's an average low-budget wartime thriller without much in the way of actual thrills, but packed with plot (and the requisite plot holes that come with a low budget). Walter Woolf King plays the mostly unlikable hero and Joan Woodbury fades into the woodwork as Nancy, who turns out to be a British agent. Warner, a big star in silent movies, is top-billed though he doesn't get all that much screen time, and he seems like he's sleepwalking through the role—though a few years later he gives a strong performance as the druggist in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. In an odd turn, Parkyarkarkus, the character, is played by Parkyarkarkus, the actor. He is an acquired taste; I don't find him all that funny but he doesn't offend or irritate me, either. In real life, he was Harry Parke, father to comic actors Albert Brooks and Bob Einstein. William Vaughn chews the scenery ineffectively as the Nazi villain. The best performances, partly due to their subtlety, are given by Duncan Renaldo as Sheik David and Howard Banks as Graham. Fans of Poverty Row films will enjoy this, but others can give this a pass. Pictured are King and Banks. [YouTube]

MURDER IS MY BUSINESS (1946)

The rich Mrs. Eleanor Ramsey is stuck in an unhappy marriage with two grown stepchildren who don't like her; her lover Carl has left her for young Dorothy, one of the stepchildren, but is willing to leave the girl alone if Eleanor will pay him off. Now she's getting threatening letters which she suspects are from Carl, but she doesn't want to go to the police for fear of public scandal, so she calls private eye Michael Shayne to investigate. Shayne is smarting from a public spanking (verbal) from police chief Rafferty who uses him as a prime example of the unscrupulous detective, but he takes the job, with some help from his secretary Phyllis. Shayne immediately gets thrown a curve when Mr. Ramsey, in deep financial trouble, asks for Shayne's help to stage a robbery of his wife's jewels so he can get the insurance money on them. Joe, an ex-con pal of Shayne's, gets wind of the plan and, against Shayne's wishes, heads to the Ramsey mansion to pull off the fake robbery. Next morning, both Joe and Eleanor are dead; Mr. Ramsey shot Joe when it appeared he was attacking Eleanor. Rafferty assumes that Joe was working with Shayne and threatens to pin something on Shayne. Meanwhile, two sideline characters, ex-con Duell Renslow, now a night club manager, and Mona, a hostess at the club, become suspects (Duell is revealed as Eleanor's brother) as do the nasty stepkids, Dorothy and Ernest. When Phyllis insists on helping out more directly by working her way into the affections of the slimy playboy Carl (still a suspect), all hell breaks loose until Shayne gathers the suspects in one room for the unmasking of the killer.

Michael Shayne had been played in a series of B-mysteries by stalwart supporting actor Lloyd Nolan. When the series went to Poverty Row studio PRC (Producers Releasing Corporation, not Poverty Row Company, though that name would fit, too), Hugh Beaumont, who had been appearing in mostly uncredited roles in films since 1940, took over for a short run in the role and, though it didn’t raise his profile much in movies, he did go on to fame as the dad in TV's Leave It to Beaver. He doesn't really set Shayne apart from other B-movie detectives, but he is breezy and pleasant, and knows how to take a beating—he gets his ass kicked about four times in the movie but never gives up. The overall tone is light, not noir, and the one hour running time keeps things moving. The supporting cast is undistinguished but not without its high points. Cheryl Walker, who had only a few credited roles in 40s B-movies, retired not long after this, though she's fine as the buttinsky secretary. Well-established character actor Lyle Talbot isn't given enough to do in the red herring role of Eleanor's brother. George Meeker makes Carl nicely slimy, and Julia McMilan and David Reed are promising as the stepchildren but don't get enough screen time to develop their characters beyond their initial impression as unlikeable. Not exactly a buried gem, but I'll probably watch more of these now that they are available on DVD as a set from Classic Flix. [DVD]

WHAT THE BUTLER SAW (1950)

The Earl is returning to his home after several years away, having been stationed in the tropics as governor of the Coconut Islands. The servants, happy to have him back, have put up a big "Welcome Home" banner, but stuffy Lady Mary, the Earl's sister, and the even stuffier Gerald, the Earl's grandson, think it’s just too vulgar and make them take it down. When the Earl arrives, with his faithful butler Bembridge, he is sad that there is no banner. Right off the bat, we know how the alliances will go here: the relatively down-to-earth Earl and his butler will stand opposed to the sister and the grandson, with Elaine, the pleasant granddaughter, trying to bridge the gap. The Earl tells the family stories of his adventures which they are quite bored by, but one of them involves a native girl named Lapis, daughter of a tribal king, who fell in love with the butler. That night, Bembridge discovers that Lapis packed herself in one of the Earl's trunks and has accompanied them home. He tries to keep her scantily-clad presence secret, but when she is caught taking a bath in the kitchen sink, the secret is out. That night, at a welcome home party, Lapis is introduced to the guests, but she enters the room stark naked, scandalizing and pleasing people in equal measure. When reports reach the Earl that Lapis' father thinks she’s been kidnapped and has started a local war, he realizes something must be done.

This British B-comedy from the pre-horror Hammer studios is fun enough, though the acting and direction are just about par for this kind of lower-budget film. Edward Rigby as the Earl is fine if colorless; Henry Mollison as the butler is a bit better, keeping a stoic face while hinting at hidden depths that might attract the uninhibited Lapis; the most fun seems to be had by the actors playing the villains—Eleanor Hallam as Lady Mary and, especially, Michael Ward as Gerald, whose strained and high-pitched voice is hilariously obnoxious. Mercy Haystead as Lapis is sexy and whimsical but not very exotic, looking as pale as the Earl's family. Good support is offered by Peter Burton as a reporter who falls for Elaine, and Tonie MacMillan as Mrs. Thimble, the cook. The dialogue is amusing without really being witty, so its effectiveness is mostly due to the delivery (the strengths of Hallam and Ward). The ending is particularly satisfying. Pictured are Haystead and Mollison. [YouTube]

STORM WARNING (1951)

Model Marsha Mitchell (Ginger Rogers) has taken a detour on her way to her latest job to the small town of Rock Point to visit her sister Lucy (Doris Day) whom she hasn't seen since Lucy got married more than a year ago. She arrives in the evening and finds it unusual that most of the town near the bus depot has already shut down; even the taxi driver claims he can't take another fare. As Marsha walks to Lucy's house, she witnesses a gang of men dressed in robes and hoods bring a tied-up prisoner out of the courthouse and beat him. As the prisoner runs away, one of the hooded men shoots him dead. He pulls off his hood and Marsha, hiding in the shadows, gets a good look at him. In a daze, Marsha walks to Lucy's home where their happy reunion is short-circuited when Lucy's husband Hank (Steve Cochran) comes home and Marsha recognizes him as the killer. She can't hide her knowledge and Hank breaks down and admits it, claiming it was a terrible accident—the reporter had been snooping around writing an exposé of the town as a center of Ku Klux Klan activity, and the Klansmen had just wanted to scare him away, but things got out of hand. Marsha buys his story—though we see that Cochran actually feels no remorse—and plans to leave the next morning, but when prosecutor Burt Rainey (Ronald Reagan) finds out she was a witness, he tries to convince her to stay and speak out at the inquest. Marsha is put under pressure and pulled in different directions by the law, the KKK, and Lucy and Hank; with the very real danger of revenge weighing on her mind, she feels trapped.

This is a somewhat unusual social issue movie in that we are never shown exactly why the Klansmen are bad people. Of course, an audience in 1951 would know (as would an audience of today), but the viewer has to make assumptions about the Klan to imagine that they aren't just some small-fry bullying hooligans—no activity against African-Americans or Jews is shown here, and the biggest worry of the Klan leader (played by Hugh Sanders), aside from the murder charge, is that a reporter might find out that he has been funneling dues money from Klan members into his own pocket, and could be brought up on charges of income tax evasion. The leads, Rogers and Reagan, both seem unwilling to commit fully to their parts: Reagan more or less sleepwalks through the movie, and Rogers usually looks more irritated than scared or outraged. Cochran and Day, however, are quite good as they enact a "Streetcar Named Desire" dynamic, with Cochran as the sexy but brutal animalistic husband and Day as the peppy new wife who blissfully ignores any problems. Day is especially good playing against type—this was her first non-musical comedy role. The movie has a noir feel to it, right through to the downbeat ending, and fans of film noir will enjoy this. Pictured are Day, Rogers and Cochran. [DVD]

THE STRANGLER OF BLACKMOOR CASTLE (1963)

At a fancy dinner party at Blackmoor Castle, Lucius Clark announces that he is soon to be knighted by the Queen. Outside the castle, the dogs are barking up a storm, unnoticed by the partygoers but raising an alarm among the groundskeepers and the (possibly sinister) butler, Anthony. Tom, the handsome gardener, is attacked and killed by a masked figure who leaves the letter "M" branded on his forehead, though his body isn't found until the next morning. After the guests leave, the killer enters the house and confronts Clark, saying, "A thief and a murderer shall never be a knight of the realm"; he claims he will avenge the death of Clark's old friend Charles Manning and demands that Clark give up six million pounds worth of diamonds that (he says) Clark stole from Manning. Clark very coolly refuses to give in, even at gunpoint, so the masked man warns he will make Clark's life a living hell until he gives in. We are soon introduced to the other characters: Clark's niece Claridge who is trying to make a name for herself as a local reporter; Mike, a fellow reporter and friend who agrees to work with Claridge on the story of the Blackmoor killer; Inspector Mitchell and his assistant Watson who keep finding more castle staff strangled; the lavishly mustachioed Edgar (a Scot in a kilt) who actually owns the castle but rents it to Clark; and a young boy named Flip who knows his way around the various caves and secret passages underneath the Blackmoor estate. We soon discover that Clark is trying surreptitiously to sell the diamonds to Tavish, the owner of the Old Homestead Inn; a lawyer named Tromby is in some partnership with him; and Judy, a sexy blond barmaid at the inn, may be a key to the mysteries that pile up, along with the bodies—more than one of which is killed not by strangulation but by decapitation.

This German movie is based on a book by Bryan Edgar Wallace, son of the famous thriller writer Edgar Wallace (who was a co-creator of King Kong). Nearly 200 movies have been made based on books by Wallace the father—most of them, for some reason, made by German film companies, which became a genre of their own, called krimi—and Bryan himself has twenty film credits for film writing or adaptations. A lot of plot is crammed into this, and I got a bit lost in the twists and turns of the story—there's a character who is decapitated while riding a motorcycle and I had no idea who he was—but things mostly get sorted out in the end. The explanation of the revenge plot is interesting and I must admit that the identity of the killer came as a complete surprise to me. It's always difficult for me to judge acting in movies which are dubbed into English, but the German actors all do their jobs well. Karin Dor (Claridge) made a number of German Edgar Wallace thrillers but is probably better known by cult movie fans for her appearance in The Face of Fu Manchu and as a Bond Girl in You Only Live Twice. Harry Riebauer (Mitchell) and Walter Giller (Edgar) had long careers in German movies and TV. The print of this I saw on YouTube is rather murky, but that goes along with its "old dark house" atmosphere. Not really a horror movie, but good spooky-evening viewing. [YouTube]

PHANTOM PATROL (1936)

There's a nationwide manhunt going on for killer "Dapper Dan" Geary who is hiding out in a hotel room doing crossword puzzles. His underling Jojo tells him he's "hotter than jailhouse coffee," and suggests they take it on the lam. Geary sees a picture of famous crime writer Stephen Morris in the paper and realizes he's a dead ringer for Morris except for the author's goatee, so the two take off for the backwoods of Manitoba, Canada, where Morris is vacationing. Geary, with a goatee, ties Morris up and hides him away, and takes on Morris' identity. Meanwhile, handsome Mountie Jim McGregor (Kermit Maynard) is on the trail of the Frenchie Le Farge gang. He captures two of them, but Frenchie and the others get away and take refuge at Morris's isolated cabin. They recognize Geary in disguise and he lets them stay. As Morris, Geary goes into town and becomes friendly with Jim, Inspector McCloud, and McCloud's daughter Doris, who is Jim's girlfriend. When Geary is talked into hiring Doris to be his secretary, he improvises by dictating a story by famous French author Guy de Maupassant as though it were his own. Doris doesn’t catch on, but later, Jim does. Eventually, when lumberjack payroll money and jewels flaunted at a masked ball become targets for Geary and the Le Farge gang, can Jim and the Mounties foil their nefarious plans?

I know of no earthly reason this is called PHANTOM PATROL. Those words are never used in the movie, and no one even acts in a phantomly fashion. Still, this is good fun: an hour-long Canadian Western with a handsome hero, a lovely lady who eventually becomes a damsel in distress, fisticuffs and shootouts, and even a song which Jim and his Mountie buddies sing in their undershirts! (See the picture at right.) Kermit Maynard has a classic all-American athletic hero look (even though Jim is apparently Canadian) and is quite good here. He appeared in 300 movies, mostly in small uncredited roles in westerns, and was never as big a star as his brother Ken who headlined several B-westerns in the 30s and 40s, though on the evidence of this film, Kermit should have been just as big a star. Joan Barclay (Doris) also had a steady career in B-westerns. Paul Fix, another western stalwart, is amusing as Jojo, and British actor Harry Worth does a nice job in the dual role of bad guy Geary and hostage Morris. One of the charms of this film is its sense of humor—it manages to be light and amusing without turning slapstick or using heavy-handed comic relief. Some IMDb viewers call it "goofy" (I'm assuming they are mostly referring to the undershirt song) but to me, it all seemed charming. I'd like to search out more Kermit Maynard movies. The print on YouTube is awfully choppy and splicy but the image quality is clear and sharp. [YouTube]

THE BRIDGE (1959)

This is less a narrative-driven movie than an impressionistic slice-of-life story that plays out over a couple of days in April 1945, during the last days of the Second World War. In a small German village, several teenage boys are excited about being called up to serve in the army (since by this time, the military was decimated, and younger recruits were being sought after). We get to know them on their last day of school before they head off for training. Karl has a crush on his dad's housekeeper, but he is devastated to discover that she is sleeping with his father; Hans is a handsome romantic; Walter has conflicts with his father, who, despite being a Nazi party representative, is likely to clear out of town when the Allies get too close; Sigi, the youngest, has an overprotective mother; Jurgen comes from a military family and his mother gives him his late father's pistol to take with him to war. After we follow them through their last day in town, we see them next in basic training. But the troops are disorganized, with many ready to retreat, and the boys get assigned the task of guarding a bridge, which, as it happens is just outside of their village. That night, the boys do their duty, unaware that the bridge is going to be blown up by the German army when the Allies approach.

Though not strong in narrative, this is an emotionally powerful anti-war film. We know the boys have been given a useless task because their former schoolteacher wants to keep them away from the deteriorating front, hoping to spare their lives, but the boys are proud of having what seems an important mission and their enthusiasm blinds them to the real situation around them. As the night goes on, the film takes on a kind of Twilight Zone atmosphere with fog all around and a slow parade of wounded and deserters passing by. We are used to movies which promulgate a message of the terrible waste of war, so the ending is fairly predictable, but the director, Bernard Wikci, keeps the atmosphere tense. The actors, most not much older than their characters, are uniformly excellent. The only actor I’m familiar with is Fritz Wepper who went on to play Michael York’s German buddy Fritz in CABARET. But all of them are fine, not overdoing either bravado or fear. I'd never heard of this but TCM aired it recently and it’s available on a Criterion DVD. It definitely deserves a bigger audience. [TCM]