GOOD TIME GIRL (1948)
With the exception of the fabulous Mamie Van Doren B-film GIRLS TOWN, I'm not a fan of the juvenile delinquent movies that Hollywood cranked out in the 50's (in addition to a handful which came out in the depression years). However, it's interesting to find out that the British were doing this kind of thing in the postwar era. The main narrative is framed as a warning tale told to a new delinquent girl (a very young Diana Dors) by the Head of the Juvenile Board (Flora Robson). Jean Kent plays the title character, a lower-class teenager who is fired from a job at a pawnbroker's for "borrowing" a piece of jewelry; when her dad beats her up, she runs away, gets an apartment, and falls in with slimy Peter Glenville who helps her get a job as a hat check girl at a rather rough night club run by Herbert Lom. She does a favor for Glenville when she runs an errand for him involving pawning some jewels, but later he beats her up when she won't sleep with him. A musician (Dennis Price) takes a paternal interest in her and lets her stay with him until she finds another place. However, it turns out that the pawned jewels were stolen and, as it's her word against Glenville's, she's sentenced to three years in reform school. Kent has a bad attitude about her surroundings until she becomes buddies with Jill Balcom, the "good conduct girl," who teaches her how to get away with things under the noses of the matrons. When another girl snitches on Kent and a fight breaks out, Kent escapes, goes back to the big city and falls in with handsome but mean mobster Griffin Jones, who, in the film's best scene, tries to strangle her in a train compartment. Things go even further downhill from there until a last meeting with Price ends in tragedy. The title seems a bit off for two reasons: 1) poor Kent is never seen having a very good time at all; 2) though she's supposed to be 16, Kent looked much closer to her actual age of 27, and reform school friend Balcom looks closer to 30. Aside from Lom and Jones, no one else gets a chance to stand out. Rather drab, with its murky noirish look the most compelling thing on display. [TCM]
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
TALL, DARK AND HANDSOME (1941)
This mild B-crime comedy is Damon Runyon-lite, and, since the movie adaptations of Runyon (Guys and Dolls, Lady for a Day, Lemon Drop Kid) are all themselves gangster-lite, filled with crooks and lowlifes who never do anything really bad, this film so airy and fluffy that it risks floating away. But though the script could have used another draft, the acting is OK and the central character is unique: a wealthy and powerful gangster (Cesar Romero) who is so soft-hearted that he can't bring himself to kill any of his rivals, so he makes it look like they’ve been rubbed out while actually keeping them imprisoned, in comfort, in the basement of his mansion. It takes a while for this conceit to become clear, so the opening scene doesn't make much sense at the time: Milton Berle, Romero's chief sidekick, walks in on a bloody scene in which a shopowner and two thugs have killed each other in a dispute and plants evidence to make it look as if Romero was responsible. Later, we realize he does this to keep up his boss's tough-guy reputation.
The rest of the contorted narrative barely makes sense: at Christmas, Romero takes a shine to a young lady (Virginia Gilmore) working as a department store child-wrangler, assumes she likes children, and hires her as a nanny. However, since he doesn't have any kids, he has Berle get him an urchin from the streets (Stanley Clements) to pose as his son. Meanwhile, as Romero romances Gilmore, he has to deal with his main rival, Sheldon Leonard. In the holiday spirit, the two declare a truce, but later when some of his “dead” henchmen get out of the mansion prison, Leonard realizes Romero is a pussycat and he decides to get rid of him once and for all. How it all plays out from here is good fun that I won’t spoil. I wish the movie’s set-up had been stronger: we don’t get enough background about any of the main characters to make us care about them, and the chemistry between Romero and Gilmore is zilch—I can see Romero trying, but Gilmore has no personality. Berle is very good, and other fine support comes from Charlotte Greenwood (who gets a novelty dance number to show off her crazy long legs), Marc Lawrence, Frank Jenks, Leonard, and the young Clements, who went on to play the street kid Tony in GOING MY WAY. There is also a lovely Christmas tree in Romero's apartment. Harmless fun which could have been better with stronger writing. [FMC]
This mild B-crime comedy is Damon Runyon-lite, and, since the movie adaptations of Runyon (Guys and Dolls, Lady for a Day, Lemon Drop Kid) are all themselves gangster-lite, filled with crooks and lowlifes who never do anything really bad, this film so airy and fluffy that it risks floating away. But though the script could have used another draft, the acting is OK and the central character is unique: a wealthy and powerful gangster (Cesar Romero) who is so soft-hearted that he can't bring himself to kill any of his rivals, so he makes it look like they’ve been rubbed out while actually keeping them imprisoned, in comfort, in the basement of his mansion. It takes a while for this conceit to become clear, so the opening scene doesn't make much sense at the time: Milton Berle, Romero's chief sidekick, walks in on a bloody scene in which a shopowner and two thugs have killed each other in a dispute and plants evidence to make it look as if Romero was responsible. Later, we realize he does this to keep up his boss's tough-guy reputation.
The rest of the contorted narrative barely makes sense: at Christmas, Romero takes a shine to a young lady (Virginia Gilmore) working as a department store child-wrangler, assumes she likes children, and hires her as a nanny. However, since he doesn't have any kids, he has Berle get him an urchin from the streets (Stanley Clements) to pose as his son. Meanwhile, as Romero romances Gilmore, he has to deal with his main rival, Sheldon Leonard. In the holiday spirit, the two declare a truce, but later when some of his “dead” henchmen get out of the mansion prison, Leonard realizes Romero is a pussycat and he decides to get rid of him once and for all. How it all plays out from here is good fun that I won’t spoil. I wish the movie’s set-up had been stronger: we don’t get enough background about any of the main characters to make us care about them, and the chemistry between Romero and Gilmore is zilch—I can see Romero trying, but Gilmore has no personality. Berle is very good, and other fine support comes from Charlotte Greenwood (who gets a novelty dance number to show off her crazy long legs), Marc Lawrence, Frank Jenks, Leonard, and the young Clements, who went on to play the street kid Tony in GOING MY WAY. There is also a lovely Christmas tree in Romero's apartment. Harmless fun which could have been better with stronger writing. [FMC]
Sunday, September 21, 2008
FOR THOSE WHO THINK YOUNG (1964)
One of the few surf movies I've stuck with to the end, in addition to GIDGET and WINTER A-GO-GO (which is a surf movie in ski drag). There are several plotlines to follow here: 1) Pamela Tiffin is a sorority girl being watched over by her uncles (Woody Woodbury and Paul Lynde) who have an old-fashioned vaudeville nightclub act which is barely making them a living. One night at the club, just as the uncles are about to get fired, Woodbury does a comedy routine which is an inexplicable success and the nightclub owner revamps the club into a student hangout called Surf's Up! 2) Rich young playboy James Darren, who has a little black book called a "filly file," falls for Tiffin and has his work cut out for him trying to get her to realize he's serious about her. 3) When he finally succeeds, his grandfather, thinking Tiffin is just a gold digger, tries to scotch the deal by sending college prof Ellen Burstyn to the club, in disguise, to get evidence that illegal gambling and underage drinking is going on so he can close the club. However, Burstyn winds up sympathetic to the kids (and wooed by Woodbury), so the grandfather gets some buddies to infiltrate the club to plant false evidence. It takes a last-minute blackmail plan by the uncles to save the day, for themselves and for the kids.
I can't make any grandiose claims for this as movie art, but it's much more interesting than any of the Frankie & Annette beach movies I've tried to watch, and it has the pleasure of a bizarre cast. First off, there's Burstyn in her first movie role (billed as Ellen McRae), almost unrecognizable as a young blonde woman, though her distinctive voice gives her away. Future Gilligan's Island star Bob Denver is Darren's beatnik sidekick, and future Gilligan's Island co-star Tina Louise is stripper Topaz McQueen, who works in secret as a math tutor for the frat boys. Nancy Sinatra is Denver's girlfriend, and Claudia Martin, daughter of Dean Martin, has a small role as a sorority sister. Classic-era actors George Raft, Robert Armstrong, and Allen Jenkins have cameos, as does Roger Smith who had just finished several seasons on TV as studly detective Jeff Spencer on 77 Sunset Strip; Louis Quinn, who played horse-race gambler Roscoe on Strip, is the club owner. Woodbury isn't very funny, and Lynde isn't given much to do. Darren and Tiffin are a nice-looking couple of kids; watch for a Pepsi plug--the movie's title was a Pepsi slogan at the time. Kind of fun for its genre. [TCM]
One of the few surf movies I've stuck with to the end, in addition to GIDGET and WINTER A-GO-GO (which is a surf movie in ski drag). There are several plotlines to follow here: 1) Pamela Tiffin is a sorority girl being watched over by her uncles (Woody Woodbury and Paul Lynde) who have an old-fashioned vaudeville nightclub act which is barely making them a living. One night at the club, just as the uncles are about to get fired, Woodbury does a comedy routine which is an inexplicable success and the nightclub owner revamps the club into a student hangout called Surf's Up! 2) Rich young playboy James Darren, who has a little black book called a "filly file," falls for Tiffin and has his work cut out for him trying to get her to realize he's serious about her. 3) When he finally succeeds, his grandfather, thinking Tiffin is just a gold digger, tries to scotch the deal by sending college prof Ellen Burstyn to the club, in disguise, to get evidence that illegal gambling and underage drinking is going on so he can close the club. However, Burstyn winds up sympathetic to the kids (and wooed by Woodbury), so the grandfather gets some buddies to infiltrate the club to plant false evidence. It takes a last-minute blackmail plan by the uncles to save the day, for themselves and for the kids.
I can't make any grandiose claims for this as movie art, but it's much more interesting than any of the Frankie & Annette beach movies I've tried to watch, and it has the pleasure of a bizarre cast. First off, there's Burstyn in her first movie role (billed as Ellen McRae), almost unrecognizable as a young blonde woman, though her distinctive voice gives her away. Future Gilligan's Island star Bob Denver is Darren's beatnik sidekick, and future Gilligan's Island co-star Tina Louise is stripper Topaz McQueen, who works in secret as a math tutor for the frat boys. Nancy Sinatra is Denver's girlfriend, and Claudia Martin, daughter of Dean Martin, has a small role as a sorority sister. Classic-era actors George Raft, Robert Armstrong, and Allen Jenkins have cameos, as does Roger Smith who had just finished several seasons on TV as studly detective Jeff Spencer on 77 Sunset Strip; Louis Quinn, who played horse-race gambler Roscoe on Strip, is the club owner. Woodbury isn't very funny, and Lynde isn't given much to do. Darren and Tiffin are a nice-looking couple of kids; watch for a Pepsi plug--the movie's title was a Pepsi slogan at the time. Kind of fun for its genre. [TCM]
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
GAS! (1971)
This crazy-ass Roger Corman flick is mentioned on a lot of sci-fi sites and blogs for a couple of reasons: 1) technically, it is set in the future and falls just within the parameters of the apocalyptic film genre, as hinted at by its subtitle: "…Or, It Became Necessary to Destroy the World in Order to Save It"; 2) a sci-fi plot device sets the plot in motion: an experimental gas is accidentally released which causes the death, by premature aging, of everyone over 25. But once that occurs, in the first 10 minutes of the movie, there is no more science fiction, indeed, no more plot to speak of, except for the conceit that the under-25's couldn't make a better world on their own. The film becomes essentially a hippie vaudeville show, somewhat like the stage musical Hair without musical numbers, and Hair without the music would be tedious. This film isn't completely terrible, but I can't recommend people subjecting themselves to it film unless they are 60's film buffs--yes, it's from 1971, but it's a 60's movie in every other meaningful way.
Once the gas is released, our leading hippie couple (Bob Corff and Elaine Giftos) take off on a road trip with some friends, including Cindy Williams (from Laverne & Shirley), But Cort (from Harold & Maude), Talia Shire (Pacino's sister in The Godfather films) and Ben Vereen, to find a utopian commune in New Mexico. What follows is a series of largely unrelated satirical sketches, some of which are funny--when they burn books from a library to stay warm, someone expresses outrage until it's explained that it's Jacqueline Susann and Harold Robbins feeding the flames--but most of which are not, or are carried on far past their prime amusement threshold. Along the way, they run into a motorcycle-riding Edgar Allan Poe with a raven on his shoulder, a group of raping and pillaging football jocks, a Hell's Angel gone respectable, an effeminate Native American who wants to give the English language back to the white man, and a marshal named McLuhan (that's what passes for wit here). Williams is pregnant and ready to deliver, but refuses to bring her child into such a world, so she simply doesn't give birth.
During a gunfight scene, it's not the bullets that kill, but the cowboy actor names which are yelled out with each shot ("William S. Hart!! Gene Autry!!"). When someone asks if killing was necessary, Corff replies, "Maybe I could have winged 'em with a Dale Robertson or a Clint Eastwood." And that's about the funniest line in the movie. The continued sighting of road signs about seeking advice from an oracle is a "Laugh-In"-like gag that leads to a very weak punch line. The "fascist jocks" storyline is given way too much attention, but like everything else, goes nowhere. The whole thing feels like it might have worked as an off-Broadway revue, but as a movie, it's all presented far too literally. Some songs are by Country Joe (who has a cameo) and the Fish. The film's title is often cited as "Gas-s-s-s," though the animated credit sequence simply calls it "Gas." [DVD]
This crazy-ass Roger Corman flick is mentioned on a lot of sci-fi sites and blogs for a couple of reasons: 1) technically, it is set in the future and falls just within the parameters of the apocalyptic film genre, as hinted at by its subtitle: "…Or, It Became Necessary to Destroy the World in Order to Save It"; 2) a sci-fi plot device sets the plot in motion: an experimental gas is accidentally released which causes the death, by premature aging, of everyone over 25. But once that occurs, in the first 10 minutes of the movie, there is no more science fiction, indeed, no more plot to speak of, except for the conceit that the under-25's couldn't make a better world on their own. The film becomes essentially a hippie vaudeville show, somewhat like the stage musical Hair without musical numbers, and Hair without the music would be tedious. This film isn't completely terrible, but I can't recommend people subjecting themselves to it film unless they are 60's film buffs--yes, it's from 1971, but it's a 60's movie in every other meaningful way.
Once the gas is released, our leading hippie couple (Bob Corff and Elaine Giftos) take off on a road trip with some friends, including Cindy Williams (from Laverne & Shirley), But Cort (from Harold & Maude), Talia Shire (Pacino's sister in The Godfather films) and Ben Vereen, to find a utopian commune in New Mexico. What follows is a series of largely unrelated satirical sketches, some of which are funny--when they burn books from a library to stay warm, someone expresses outrage until it's explained that it's Jacqueline Susann and Harold Robbins feeding the flames--but most of which are not, or are carried on far past their prime amusement threshold. Along the way, they run into a motorcycle-riding Edgar Allan Poe with a raven on his shoulder, a group of raping and pillaging football jocks, a Hell's Angel gone respectable, an effeminate Native American who wants to give the English language back to the white man, and a marshal named McLuhan (that's what passes for wit here). Williams is pregnant and ready to deliver, but refuses to bring her child into such a world, so she simply doesn't give birth.
During a gunfight scene, it's not the bullets that kill, but the cowboy actor names which are yelled out with each shot ("William S. Hart!! Gene Autry!!"). When someone asks if killing was necessary, Corff replies, "Maybe I could have winged 'em with a Dale Robertson or a Clint Eastwood." And that's about the funniest line in the movie. The continued sighting of road signs about seeking advice from an oracle is a "Laugh-In"-like gag that leads to a very weak punch line. The "fascist jocks" storyline is given way too much attention, but like everything else, goes nowhere. The whole thing feels like it might have worked as an off-Broadway revue, but as a movie, it's all presented far too literally. Some songs are by Country Joe (who has a cameo) and the Fish. The film's title is often cited as "Gas-s-s-s," though the animated credit sequence simply calls it "Gas." [DVD]
Monday, September 15, 2008
STREET OF WOMEN (1932)
Kay Francis doing what she does best, starring in a pre-Code movie, long-suffering and dressed to the nines. Here, she's a successful fashion designer who has, for several years, been carrying on an affair with Alan Dinehart, a married real estate mogul, despite constant wooing from her architect friend Roland Young. When her handsome brother (Allen Vincent) comes to town, Francis decides that the two should take a break, fearing that Vincent would be judgmental about the arrangement. Dinehart reluctantly agrees, but complications ensue: 1) Vincent meets Dinehart's daughter (Gloria Stuart) and the two fall in love; 2) Dinehart asks his wife for a divorce but she won't give him one; 3) Dinehart tells Stuart about his situation, thinking that she's a girl of modern morals and will understand, but actually both kids have a bit of the prig in them and they freak out, with Vincent taking a job in South America to get away. Francis and Dinehart split up until, a year later, Vincent returns and a melodramatic plot device gets everyone together for a reconciliation, partly engineered by good friend Young.
At 59 minutes, this is one breezy-fast soap opera told in a torrent of choppy staccato-paced scenes. I assume this was a second-feature "programmer," though it certainly has grade-A movie values, and it would have benefited from a little more time for character and plot development, but it's still fun to watch. Francis is fine, and it's interesting to see Young, usually cast as a slightly befuddled but sly older man, playing a romantic second lead, though we never for a moment believe that Francis thinks of him as anything but a good buddy. I usually love Stuart, but here, in her first film role, she's a little tentative (and her character is not especially likable, a rare type for her). Dinehart is too drab; we don't know what Francis sees in him to inspire her love. Marjorie Gateson is the nasty wife and Louise Beavers is a maid. The casual nature of the adulterous affair here would not have been possible a few years later when the Production Code was more strictly enforced. The title, BTW, refers not to anything racy, but to Roland Young's assumption that all great things done by men (like building skyscrapers, which Dinehart does in the course of the film) are inspired by women. [TCM]
Kay Francis doing what she does best, starring in a pre-Code movie, long-suffering and dressed to the nines. Here, she's a successful fashion designer who has, for several years, been carrying on an affair with Alan Dinehart, a married real estate mogul, despite constant wooing from her architect friend Roland Young. When her handsome brother (Allen Vincent) comes to town, Francis decides that the two should take a break, fearing that Vincent would be judgmental about the arrangement. Dinehart reluctantly agrees, but complications ensue: 1) Vincent meets Dinehart's daughter (Gloria Stuart) and the two fall in love; 2) Dinehart asks his wife for a divorce but she won't give him one; 3) Dinehart tells Stuart about his situation, thinking that she's a girl of modern morals and will understand, but actually both kids have a bit of the prig in them and they freak out, with Vincent taking a job in South America to get away. Francis and Dinehart split up until, a year later, Vincent returns and a melodramatic plot device gets everyone together for a reconciliation, partly engineered by good friend Young.
At 59 minutes, this is one breezy-fast soap opera told in a torrent of choppy staccato-paced scenes. I assume this was a second-feature "programmer," though it certainly has grade-A movie values, and it would have benefited from a little more time for character and plot development, but it's still fun to watch. Francis is fine, and it's interesting to see Young, usually cast as a slightly befuddled but sly older man, playing a romantic second lead, though we never for a moment believe that Francis thinks of him as anything but a good buddy. I usually love Stuart, but here, in her first film role, she's a little tentative (and her character is not especially likable, a rare type for her). Dinehart is too drab; we don't know what Francis sees in him to inspire her love. Marjorie Gateson is the nasty wife and Louise Beavers is a maid. The casual nature of the adulterous affair here would not have been possible a few years later when the Production Code was more strictly enforced. The title, BTW, refers not to anything racy, but to Roland Young's assumption that all great things done by men (like building skyscrapers, which Dinehart does in the course of the film) are inspired by women. [TCM]
Saturday, September 13, 2008
STRANGE IMPERSONATION (1946)
Research scientist Brenda Marshall is working long hours on a promising new anesthetic which she plans to test on herself. One night, Marshall almost hits a drunken woman (Ruth Ford) with her car; Ford is OK, but she meets up with a shyster lawyer in a plot thread to which we will return later. Marshall has been putting boyfriend William Gargan off until her experiments are done, but her assistant (Hillary Brooke) also wants Gargan and deliberately sets a chemical fire. Gargan saves her but she winds up horribly disfigured and Brooke makes Gargan think that Marshall doesn't want to see him, and vice versa. In the midst of her misery, Marshall is visited by Ford, looking for a little blackmail money. They tussle and Ford falls out a window to her death. The body is ID'd as Marshall, so she leaves town and has plastic surgery to look like Ford, then she goes back home and poses as a dear old friend of Marshall's and sets out for a nice dish of cold revenge, though she soon winds up under suspicion for her own murder. For most of its running time, this B-noir, an early effort from director Anthony Mann, is fun, with interesting plot twists and decent performances, especially from Marshall--having fallen from Warner Brothers to B-studio Republic, she looks a bit anorexic and would retire from acting by 1950. Gargan is OK though he looks a little weird with a Hitler mustache. Unfortunately, the film is marred by a very weak ending; it seems the writers just couldn't figure out who should be punished and who should be redeemed so they just threw in the towel and ended the movie with a cheap trick. But until the last couple of minutes, it's definitely worth watching. Also with George Chandler, H.B. Warner and Lyle Talbot. [DVD]
Research scientist Brenda Marshall is working long hours on a promising new anesthetic which she plans to test on herself. One night, Marshall almost hits a drunken woman (Ruth Ford) with her car; Ford is OK, but she meets up with a shyster lawyer in a plot thread to which we will return later. Marshall has been putting boyfriend William Gargan off until her experiments are done, but her assistant (Hillary Brooke) also wants Gargan and deliberately sets a chemical fire. Gargan saves her but she winds up horribly disfigured and Brooke makes Gargan think that Marshall doesn't want to see him, and vice versa. In the midst of her misery, Marshall is visited by Ford, looking for a little blackmail money. They tussle and Ford falls out a window to her death. The body is ID'd as Marshall, so she leaves town and has plastic surgery to look like Ford, then she goes back home and poses as a dear old friend of Marshall's and sets out for a nice dish of cold revenge, though she soon winds up under suspicion for her own murder. For most of its running time, this B-noir, an early effort from director Anthony Mann, is fun, with interesting plot twists and decent performances, especially from Marshall--having fallen from Warner Brothers to B-studio Republic, she looks a bit anorexic and would retire from acting by 1950. Gargan is OK though he looks a little weird with a Hitler mustache. Unfortunately, the film is marred by a very weak ending; it seems the writers just couldn't figure out who should be punished and who should be redeemed so they just threw in the towel and ended the movie with a cheap trick. But until the last couple of minutes, it's definitely worth watching. Also with George Chandler, H.B. Warner and Lyle Talbot. [DVD]
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
LUCKY DEVILS (1933)
A fun little diversion about the lives and loves of Hollywood stunt men. William Boyd (better known as Hopalong Cassidy in movies and TV) is Skipper, the friendly, boisterous central figure of a group of stunt men and extras who work together in the day and carouse at night. Boyd insists that stunt work and romance don't go together, but his buddy Slugger (William Bakewell) insists on getting married; on the night of their celebration, a bottle gets broken which is taken as a sign of impending death. Slugger tells his new wife he'll give up the stunt racket, but he doesn't, and, well, the omen of the bottle comes true. In the meantime, Skipper and his roommate Bob (William Gargan) save Fran (Dorothy Wilson), a starving actress, from committing suicide at a party; they take her home, feed her, and help her get back on her feet. Both guys fall for her, but Skipper gets her and, despite his own beliefs, marries her and stays in the business. When Fran's worrying causes her to show up at the set as Skipper is about to perform a particularly dangerous stunt involving tall buildings and fire, he gets nervous, messes up, and almost causes Bob's death. Skipper is more or less blackballed by the studios and quits the business, but when Fran gets pregnant, Skipper takes a job on a location crew and ends up taking another shot at a very dangerous stunt, falling down a waterfall. An absurdly abrupt and happy ending is the only real misstep.
When the film airs on TCM again, it's worth catching if only for the first five minutes, which features an elaborate bank robbery that we soon realize is part of the filming of a movie. The stunts here, and indeed in most of the rest of the film, are quite well done, though the fire stunt is marred by a bad ending effect. There is a wild car chase scene at the finale that reminded me at times of the great car chase in Quentin Tarentino's half of GRINDHOUSE. Boyd and Gargan have good "buddy chemistry," and the supporting cast includes Bruce Cabot, Lon Chaney Jr. (under the name Creighton Chaney), and Phyllis Fraser, who would retire from films in a few years when she married Random House publisher Bennett Cerf. [TCM]
A fun little diversion about the lives and loves of Hollywood stunt men. William Boyd (better known as Hopalong Cassidy in movies and TV) is Skipper, the friendly, boisterous central figure of a group of stunt men and extras who work together in the day and carouse at night. Boyd insists that stunt work and romance don't go together, but his buddy Slugger (William Bakewell) insists on getting married; on the night of their celebration, a bottle gets broken which is taken as a sign of impending death. Slugger tells his new wife he'll give up the stunt racket, but he doesn't, and, well, the omen of the bottle comes true. In the meantime, Skipper and his roommate Bob (William Gargan) save Fran (Dorothy Wilson), a starving actress, from committing suicide at a party; they take her home, feed her, and help her get back on her feet. Both guys fall for her, but Skipper gets her and, despite his own beliefs, marries her and stays in the business. When Fran's worrying causes her to show up at the set as Skipper is about to perform a particularly dangerous stunt involving tall buildings and fire, he gets nervous, messes up, and almost causes Bob's death. Skipper is more or less blackballed by the studios and quits the business, but when Fran gets pregnant, Skipper takes a job on a location crew and ends up taking another shot at a very dangerous stunt, falling down a waterfall. An absurdly abrupt and happy ending is the only real misstep.
When the film airs on TCM again, it's worth catching if only for the first five minutes, which features an elaborate bank robbery that we soon realize is part of the filming of a movie. The stunts here, and indeed in most of the rest of the film, are quite well done, though the fire stunt is marred by a bad ending effect. There is a wild car chase scene at the finale that reminded me at times of the great car chase in Quentin Tarentino's half of GRINDHOUSE. Boyd and Gargan have good "buddy chemistry," and the supporting cast includes Bruce Cabot, Lon Chaney Jr. (under the name Creighton Chaney), and Phyllis Fraser, who would retire from films in a few years when she married Random House publisher Bennett Cerf. [TCM]
Sunday, September 07, 2008
SUDDEN FEAR (1952)
Joan Crawford, an independently wealthy playwright, fires Jack Palance, the leading actor in her new play, saying he's not romantic enough. Indeed, with his craggy, scarred face, he's not very attractive, but he does have an intangible something that Crawford can't resist when she runs into him on a cross-country train trip a few weeks later. By the time they reach San Francisco, they're in love. Crawford marries him and is blissfully happy for a time, but when we discover she uses an elaborate dictaphone device in her home office in order to write her plays, we know that will become a major plot device, and sure enough thanks to the recorder, she soon discovers he doesn't feel the same way about her, and is indeed plotting with his slutty con artist pal Gloria Grahame to kill her for her money. In a very effective scene, Crawford listens to the disc that has Palance and Grahame discussing how to get Crawford out of the way, and the disc gets stuck at Grahame saying “I know a way…” over and over. First, Crawford acts hysterical and helpless, but soon she has concocted a plan to get back at them both, but can she go through with it without getting caught or backing out? Plotwise, this is a solid old-fashioned damsel-in-distress melodrama, but in terms of style, it's is an archetypal film noir—in fact, a close-up still of Crawford's face from this movie is on the cover of an early edition of Alain Silver's authoritative film noir encyclopedia. Lots of shadows, dark city streets, close-ups of sweaty faces, and an atmosphere of paranoia all contribute to the noir feel. There is also a wonderful dream sequence (sort of) in which Crawford imagines carrying out her plan, followed by the climactic plan itself which, of course, doesn't quite run smoothly. The movie is a bit long, but the tense last half-hour is superb. Crawford is fine, but get ready for lots of close-ups of her, usually grimacing in emotional agony. Palance is OK, but Grahame is better. The small supporting cast includes Bruce Bennett and Mike Connors in thankless roles as Crawford's lawyers. [DVD]
Joan Crawford, an independently wealthy playwright, fires Jack Palance, the leading actor in her new play, saying he's not romantic enough. Indeed, with his craggy, scarred face, he's not very attractive, but he does have an intangible something that Crawford can't resist when she runs into him on a cross-country train trip a few weeks later. By the time they reach San Francisco, they're in love. Crawford marries him and is blissfully happy for a time, but when we discover she uses an elaborate dictaphone device in her home office in order to write her plays, we know that will become a major plot device, and sure enough thanks to the recorder, she soon discovers he doesn't feel the same way about her, and is indeed plotting with his slutty con artist pal Gloria Grahame to kill her for her money. In a very effective scene, Crawford listens to the disc that has Palance and Grahame discussing how to get Crawford out of the way, and the disc gets stuck at Grahame saying “I know a way…” over and over. First, Crawford acts hysterical and helpless, but soon she has concocted a plan to get back at them both, but can she go through with it without getting caught or backing out? Plotwise, this is a solid old-fashioned damsel-in-distress melodrama, but in terms of style, it's is an archetypal film noir—in fact, a close-up still of Crawford's face from this movie is on the cover of an early edition of Alain Silver's authoritative film noir encyclopedia. Lots of shadows, dark city streets, close-ups of sweaty faces, and an atmosphere of paranoia all contribute to the noir feel. There is also a wonderful dream sequence (sort of) in which Crawford imagines carrying out her plan, followed by the climactic plan itself which, of course, doesn't quite run smoothly. The movie is a bit long, but the tense last half-hour is superb. Crawford is fine, but get ready for lots of close-ups of her, usually grimacing in emotional agony. Palance is OK, but Grahame is better. The small supporting cast includes Bruce Bennett and Mike Connors in thankless roles as Crawford's lawyers. [DVD]
Monday, September 01, 2008
KING RAT (1965)
I usually avoid prisoner-of-war movies (despite my having been, or maybe because I was, a fan of "Hogan's Heroes" in my youth), but this was recommended by an e-mail friend and I enjoyed it. What sets this one apart from the breed is that it's not an action movie about escaping, but a character study about men doing their best to survive their ordeal. The story is set at an actual Japanese POW camp called Changi in Singapore, situated between the sea and a particularly inhospitable jungle, and because escape attempts aren't really much of a problem, security is a little lighter than normal for such a camp. Most of the prisoners are from England or Australia, but George Segal, the title character, is an American soldier named King (no one actually calls him King Rat, but he is involved in a rat-breeding scheme). He has managed to make himself quite comfortable as the head honcho of a vast black market operation, and most everyone of any rank winds up kowtowing to Segal for favors. The man who most resents Segal's position is a British lieutenant, Tom Courtenay, who never stops trying to bring Segal down. When Segal discovers that Brit officer James Fox can speak Malay, he gets Fox on board to be a go-between with the guards, which irritates Courtenay all the more. Fox, the character we get to know the best, becomes the moral center of the film, and over time, he comes to almost admire the unscrupulous Segal, especially late in the film when Fox gets gangrene and the doctors threaten amputation; Segal, who supposedly is only looking out for himself, goes out of his way to strike a deal to get enough black-market drugs to cure Fox's infection. We also see that Segal is hardly the only prisoner to engage in morally questionable behavior; even the upright colonel (John Mills) isn't above looking the other way when Courtenay exposes a scheme to skim food off prisoner's rations. The film is set in 1945 and there is some suspense generated when the prisoners are led to believe that, even though the Allied victory is certain, the Japanese will engage in wholesale slaughter rather than give up the camp. However, things come to a very different conclusion, less tragic but one that presents an interesting insight into Segal's character and brings a sad end to the relationship between Segal and Fox.
I've never particularly liked George Segal, but he gives a knockout performance here which is all the more impressive for being one that by necessity does not flesh his character out completely—we know almost nothing about his life before the camp. Fox is excellent, as usual, as is Mills and, in smaller roles, Denholm Elliott and Patrick O'Neal. Courtenay seems to have been good at playing irritating jackasses you love to hate; his character is a lot like the one he played the same year in DOCTOR ZHIVAGO. Richard Dawson has a small role at the very end as the British soldier who arrives in advance of the liberation troops. The person who was in charge of applying the sweat stains to the prisoners' shirts was clearly overworked; obviously they were going for realism, but the stains look a little too "planned" and were almost distracting at times. [DVD]
I usually avoid prisoner-of-war movies (despite my having been, or maybe because I was, a fan of "Hogan's Heroes" in my youth), but this was recommended by an e-mail friend and I enjoyed it. What sets this one apart from the breed is that it's not an action movie about escaping, but a character study about men doing their best to survive their ordeal. The story is set at an actual Japanese POW camp called Changi in Singapore, situated between the sea and a particularly inhospitable jungle, and because escape attempts aren't really much of a problem, security is a little lighter than normal for such a camp. Most of the prisoners are from England or Australia, but George Segal, the title character, is an American soldier named King (no one actually calls him King Rat, but he is involved in a rat-breeding scheme). He has managed to make himself quite comfortable as the head honcho of a vast black market operation, and most everyone of any rank winds up kowtowing to Segal for favors. The man who most resents Segal's position is a British lieutenant, Tom Courtenay, who never stops trying to bring Segal down. When Segal discovers that Brit officer James Fox can speak Malay, he gets Fox on board to be a go-between with the guards, which irritates Courtenay all the more. Fox, the character we get to know the best, becomes the moral center of the film, and over time, he comes to almost admire the unscrupulous Segal, especially late in the film when Fox gets gangrene and the doctors threaten amputation; Segal, who supposedly is only looking out for himself, goes out of his way to strike a deal to get enough black-market drugs to cure Fox's infection. We also see that Segal is hardly the only prisoner to engage in morally questionable behavior; even the upright colonel (John Mills) isn't above looking the other way when Courtenay exposes a scheme to skim food off prisoner's rations. The film is set in 1945 and there is some suspense generated when the prisoners are led to believe that, even though the Allied victory is certain, the Japanese will engage in wholesale slaughter rather than give up the camp. However, things come to a very different conclusion, less tragic but one that presents an interesting insight into Segal's character and brings a sad end to the relationship between Segal and Fox.
I've never particularly liked George Segal, but he gives a knockout performance here which is all the more impressive for being one that by necessity does not flesh his character out completely—we know almost nothing about his life before the camp. Fox is excellent, as usual, as is Mills and, in smaller roles, Denholm Elliott and Patrick O'Neal. Courtenay seems to have been good at playing irritating jackasses you love to hate; his character is a lot like the one he played the same year in DOCTOR ZHIVAGO. Richard Dawson has a small role at the very end as the British soldier who arrives in advance of the liberation troops. The person who was in charge of applying the sweat stains to the prisoners' shirts was clearly overworked; obviously they were going for realism, but the stains look a little too "planned" and were almost distracting at times. [DVD]
Friday, August 29, 2008
WALK A CROOKED MILE (1948)
There is a security leak at the government's nuclear physics lab in Lakeview, California, and FBI agent Dennis O'Keefe is in charge of finding out who's responsible. One of his fellow agents calls with a hot tip, but is shot in the head in a phone booth before he can say anything more. Commie agent Philip Van Zandt is followed to San Francisco and put under surveillance, but he winds up killed by his own people before the FBI can learn anything from him. O'Keefe is soon paired up with a Scotland Yard agent (Louis Hayward) who is on the trail of someone who is shipping paintings to England which have top secret formulas hidden on them, visible under ultraviolet light. They stake out the apartment of the artist (Onslow Stevens) and soon realize that someone very high up at the Lakeview lab is leaking the info to Stevens within 24 hours of each formula's finalization. The four chief scientists and their secretary are all watched carefully, but the formulas are still getting out. The chief suspects are the German refugee scientist (Carl Esmond) and the secretary (Louise Allbritton). An art shop and a laundry become important sites of surveillance, and Raymond Burr pops up as a thuggish spy who threatens the lives of our G-men before the spy ring is finally brought down. This is a solid, fast-moving, documentary-style spy thriller, like THE HOUSE ON 92ND STREET or T-MEN, with a noirish feel. Some San Francisco location shooting and a general lack of heightened melodrama help give the movie the ring of authenticity. One scene later in the film involving a selfless landlady (Tamara Shayne) goes a bit over the top, but it doesn't unbalance the film. The leads are good as is Allbritton, and I like the fact that there is no extraneous business involving romances or a British-American rivalry, both of which I thought would surely crop up. [TCM]
There is a security leak at the government's nuclear physics lab in Lakeview, California, and FBI agent Dennis O'Keefe is in charge of finding out who's responsible. One of his fellow agents calls with a hot tip, but is shot in the head in a phone booth before he can say anything more. Commie agent Philip Van Zandt is followed to San Francisco and put under surveillance, but he winds up killed by his own people before the FBI can learn anything from him. O'Keefe is soon paired up with a Scotland Yard agent (Louis Hayward) who is on the trail of someone who is shipping paintings to England which have top secret formulas hidden on them, visible under ultraviolet light. They stake out the apartment of the artist (Onslow Stevens) and soon realize that someone very high up at the Lakeview lab is leaking the info to Stevens within 24 hours of each formula's finalization. The four chief scientists and their secretary are all watched carefully, but the formulas are still getting out. The chief suspects are the German refugee scientist (Carl Esmond) and the secretary (Louise Allbritton). An art shop and a laundry become important sites of surveillance, and Raymond Burr pops up as a thuggish spy who threatens the lives of our G-men before the spy ring is finally brought down. This is a solid, fast-moving, documentary-style spy thriller, like THE HOUSE ON 92ND STREET or T-MEN, with a noirish feel. Some San Francisco location shooting and a general lack of heightened melodrama help give the movie the ring of authenticity. One scene later in the film involving a selfless landlady (Tamara Shayne) goes a bit over the top, but it doesn't unbalance the film. The leads are good as is Allbritton, and I like the fact that there is no extraneous business involving romances or a British-American rivalry, both of which I thought would surely crop up. [TCM]
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
THE HUMAN COMEDY (1943)
Among WWII homefront films, this may not be the best (SINCE YOU WENT AWAY is a better film) or the most well known (that would be MRS. MINIVER), but it is surely the most sentimental, with all the good and bad characteristics associated with that quality. The film chronicles a few weeks in the town of Ithaca, California, as experienced by the Macauley family. Fay Bainter is the mother watching over her brood since the death of her husband (Ray Collins, who narrates from the great beyond); her eldest son (Van Johnson) is off to war, leaving her with daughter Donna Reed, teenager Mickey Rooney, and pre-schooler Butch Jenkins. Rooney has a night job at the telegraph office and has to deliver the inevitable "we regret to inform you" telegrams to families whose soldier sons have been killed. We also get to know Rooney's teacher (Mary Nash), his handsome, soft-hearted boss at the telegraph office (James Craig), and the older telegraph operator (Frank Morgan) who teaches Rooney how to get him out of a stupor if need be. We also see Johnson as he ships out to battle and befriends John Craven, a soldier and orphan who loves to hear Johnson's stories about his family and hometown, and hopes someday to visit Ithaca himself. It's not really a spoiler to note that, at the end of the movie, Craven gets his wish due to unhappy circumstances.
The first time I saw this movie (based on a book by William Saroyan), I loved it: it was sweet and sad and funny and poetic, and felt a bit like a Ray Bradbury small-town story without the fantasy elements. But the more I watch the film, the more its sentimentality and "poetry" bother me. Most of the characters are awfully two-dimensional, and eventually they all wind up speaking in the same inspirational Saroyanesque voice. Johnson and Craven are too good to be true, Morgan (who I usually like) is awfully one-note as a sloppy drunkard, and Craig starts off well but is beaten down by conventional stereotype. Only Rooney fully escapes the weight of sentiment, delivering perhaps his best performance ever as the only character here who feels real. The most awkward scene, despite its good intentions, is a town festival which highlights the multicultural make-up of Ithaca: we see Greeks, Swedes, Armenians, Mexicans, and Russians engaging in old-country activities while "My Country 'Tis of Thee" plays in the background and Craig gives us a lecture on ethnic diversity--of course, as far as I could see, there were no Germans or Japanese represented. Despite all my complaints, I still enjoy watching this film once in a while: it's well made (being a glossy MGM production) and has a cozy small-town Americana flavor. Barry Nelson and Robert Mitchum have small roles as soldiers at liberty who go out to the movies with Reed and her friend. [TCM]
Among WWII homefront films, this may not be the best (SINCE YOU WENT AWAY is a better film) or the most well known (that would be MRS. MINIVER), but it is surely the most sentimental, with all the good and bad characteristics associated with that quality. The film chronicles a few weeks in the town of Ithaca, California, as experienced by the Macauley family. Fay Bainter is the mother watching over her brood since the death of her husband (Ray Collins, who narrates from the great beyond); her eldest son (Van Johnson) is off to war, leaving her with daughter Donna Reed, teenager Mickey Rooney, and pre-schooler Butch Jenkins. Rooney has a night job at the telegraph office and has to deliver the inevitable "we regret to inform you" telegrams to families whose soldier sons have been killed. We also get to know Rooney's teacher (Mary Nash), his handsome, soft-hearted boss at the telegraph office (James Craig), and the older telegraph operator (Frank Morgan) who teaches Rooney how to get him out of a stupor if need be. We also see Johnson as he ships out to battle and befriends John Craven, a soldier and orphan who loves to hear Johnson's stories about his family and hometown, and hopes someday to visit Ithaca himself. It's not really a spoiler to note that, at the end of the movie, Craven gets his wish due to unhappy circumstances.
The first time I saw this movie (based on a book by William Saroyan), I loved it: it was sweet and sad and funny and poetic, and felt a bit like a Ray Bradbury small-town story without the fantasy elements. But the more I watch the film, the more its sentimentality and "poetry" bother me. Most of the characters are awfully two-dimensional, and eventually they all wind up speaking in the same inspirational Saroyanesque voice. Johnson and Craven are too good to be true, Morgan (who I usually like) is awfully one-note as a sloppy drunkard, and Craig starts off well but is beaten down by conventional stereotype. Only Rooney fully escapes the weight of sentiment, delivering perhaps his best performance ever as the only character here who feels real. The most awkward scene, despite its good intentions, is a town festival which highlights the multicultural make-up of Ithaca: we see Greeks, Swedes, Armenians, Mexicans, and Russians engaging in old-country activities while "My Country 'Tis of Thee" plays in the background and Craig gives us a lecture on ethnic diversity--of course, as far as I could see, there were no Germans or Japanese represented. Despite all my complaints, I still enjoy watching this film once in a while: it's well made (being a glossy MGM production) and has a cozy small-town Americana flavor. Barry Nelson and Robert Mitchum have small roles as soldiers at liberty who go out to the movies with Reed and her friend. [TCM]
Sunday, August 24, 2008
THE WRATH OF THE GODS (1914)
This hour-long film, which survives only in a battered-up but watchable print from the George Eastman House collection, is included as a generous extra on the DVD of Sessue Hayakawa's THE DRAGON PAINTER. Certainly the oldest movie I've reviewed yet, it is also one of the earliest "disaster" movies. Hayakawa plays Yamaki, an old man who lives by the sea with his daughter Toya San (Tsuru Aoki). She lives under a family curse: because an ancestor defiled a sacred altar, Buddha has cursed the Yamaki daughters that if any one of them dares to take a husband, "the wrath of the gods shall be made manifest." Tom (Frank Borzage), an American sailor, is washed up on the shore after a typhoon wrecks his ship, and he falls in love with Toya San. He not only convinces her to marry him in a Christian ceremony, but also gets converts Yamaki to Christianity--a still rather starling scene shows the old man tossing a statue of Buddha off a cliff and replacing it with a crude wooden cross. Like in a Frankenstein movie, the incensed villagers march on Yamaki's house, tearing it down and killing him even as he wields his cross like a vampire hunter. In a well-done disaster movie climax, the long dormant volcano Sakura-Jima erupts, destroying the village and killing practically everyone except Toya San and Tom who escape on a passing freighter. Tom tells his wife that, though her gods may be powerful, his omnipotent Christian god has been proven greatest of all by saving her so she can "perpetuate" her race. I've never thought of Buddhists as being religiously intolerant, so their fury at the conversion of Yamaki was quite surprising. The two disaster scenes, the typhoon and the volcano, are both quite well done, even though to modern eyes the special effects involving miniature sets aren't terribly convincing. Hayakawa, playing a character who is a good 30 or 40 years older than him, is unrecognizable under the old-age make-up. He and Aoki were married in real life after the film was completed. Apparently this movie was inspired by the eruption of the actual Sakura-Jima volcano earlier that year. [DVD]
This hour-long film, which survives only in a battered-up but watchable print from the George Eastman House collection, is included as a generous extra on the DVD of Sessue Hayakawa's THE DRAGON PAINTER. Certainly the oldest movie I've reviewed yet, it is also one of the earliest "disaster" movies. Hayakawa plays Yamaki, an old man who lives by the sea with his daughter Toya San (Tsuru Aoki). She lives under a family curse: because an ancestor defiled a sacred altar, Buddha has cursed the Yamaki daughters that if any one of them dares to take a husband, "the wrath of the gods shall be made manifest." Tom (Frank Borzage), an American sailor, is washed up on the shore after a typhoon wrecks his ship, and he falls in love with Toya San. He not only convinces her to marry him in a Christian ceremony, but also gets converts Yamaki to Christianity--a still rather starling scene shows the old man tossing a statue of Buddha off a cliff and replacing it with a crude wooden cross. Like in a Frankenstein movie, the incensed villagers march on Yamaki's house, tearing it down and killing him even as he wields his cross like a vampire hunter. In a well-done disaster movie climax, the long dormant volcano Sakura-Jima erupts, destroying the village and killing practically everyone except Toya San and Tom who escape on a passing freighter. Tom tells his wife that, though her gods may be powerful, his omnipotent Christian god has been proven greatest of all by saving her so she can "perpetuate" her race. I've never thought of Buddhists as being religiously intolerant, so their fury at the conversion of Yamaki was quite surprising. The two disaster scenes, the typhoon and the volcano, are both quite well done, even though to modern eyes the special effects involving miniature sets aren't terribly convincing. Hayakawa, playing a character who is a good 30 or 40 years older than him, is unrecognizable under the old-age make-up. He and Aoki were married in real life after the film was completed. Apparently this movie was inspired by the eruption of the actual Sakura-Jima volcano earlier that year. [DVD]
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
BEFORE DAWN (1933)
A nifty little thriller from the RKO B-movie ranks, every bit as good in its way as more well-known early sound shockers like DOCTOR X. The film begins with gangster Frank Reicher, dying in lots of pain in a hospital in Vienna. He begs doctor Warner Oland to put him out of his misery, and cinches the deal by revealing the existence of a million dollars of stolen loot, stashed in the home of Mrs. Marble (Jane Darwell) in a small American town. When Darwell reads of Reicher's death, she realizes she’s rich and decides to spend the rest of her life traveling, but as she heads up the dark stairs to retrieve the cash, she hears limping footsteps and sees the ghostly, glowing face of the dead man. In her fright, she tumbles down the stairs to her death. Meanwhile, in the same small town, undercover cop Stuart Erwin nabs young and pretty medium Dorothy Wilson for being a fraud, but she insists that she actually has psychic powers and her father (Dudley Digges) talks the cops into letting her help investigate the mysterious death of Darwell. The only witness is the housekeeper (Gertrude Hoffman) who is a bit on the secretive side and insists she knows nothing. Oland arrives from Vienna and not only tells the cops about the stash but also reveals that Darwell was the gangster's wife; he and the inspector agree to work behind Wilson's back to find the money.
It soon becomes apparent that: 1) Oland is up to more than just being helpful, 2) Hoffman knows more than she lets on, and 3) Wilson actually does have psychic powers. A secret passage gets found which leads to a very effective shock scene involving one character falling to a nasty death down a horrifically large and deep well. After some more spookiness and death, things are resolved and the cop and the medium realize they’ve fallen in love. The leads (Erwin and Wilson) are the weakest things about the movie; Erwin plays the cop as a kind of hayseed guy who is smarter than he seems, but too often he's used for bland comic relief. Wilson is actually quite good in her creepy trance scenes, but otherwise she is terribly wooden and displays zero personality. The rest of cast is fine, particularly Digges. There are some interesting directorial choices made along the way, including a handful of effective overhead shots and a weird two-shot of Oland and Hoffman that anticipates Ingmar Bergman. Based on a story by prolific mystery author Edgar Wallace. [TCM]
A nifty little thriller from the RKO B-movie ranks, every bit as good in its way as more well-known early sound shockers like DOCTOR X. The film begins with gangster Frank Reicher, dying in lots of pain in a hospital in Vienna. He begs doctor Warner Oland to put him out of his misery, and cinches the deal by revealing the existence of a million dollars of stolen loot, stashed in the home of Mrs. Marble (Jane Darwell) in a small American town. When Darwell reads of Reicher's death, she realizes she’s rich and decides to spend the rest of her life traveling, but as she heads up the dark stairs to retrieve the cash, she hears limping footsteps and sees the ghostly, glowing face of the dead man. In her fright, she tumbles down the stairs to her death. Meanwhile, in the same small town, undercover cop Stuart Erwin nabs young and pretty medium Dorothy Wilson for being a fraud, but she insists that she actually has psychic powers and her father (Dudley Digges) talks the cops into letting her help investigate the mysterious death of Darwell. The only witness is the housekeeper (Gertrude Hoffman) who is a bit on the secretive side and insists she knows nothing. Oland arrives from Vienna and not only tells the cops about the stash but also reveals that Darwell was the gangster's wife; he and the inspector agree to work behind Wilson's back to find the money.
It soon becomes apparent that: 1) Oland is up to more than just being helpful, 2) Hoffman knows more than she lets on, and 3) Wilson actually does have psychic powers. A secret passage gets found which leads to a very effective shock scene involving one character falling to a nasty death down a horrifically large and deep well. After some more spookiness and death, things are resolved and the cop and the medium realize they’ve fallen in love. The leads (Erwin and Wilson) are the weakest things about the movie; Erwin plays the cop as a kind of hayseed guy who is smarter than he seems, but too often he's used for bland comic relief. Wilson is actually quite good in her creepy trance scenes, but otherwise she is terribly wooden and displays zero personality. The rest of cast is fine, particularly Digges. There are some interesting directorial choices made along the way, including a handful of effective overhead shots and a weird two-shot of Oland and Hoffman that anticipates Ingmar Bergman. Based on a story by prolific mystery author Edgar Wallace. [TCM]
Saturday, August 16, 2008
THE BIG CUBE (1969)
Lana Turner is a stage actress who retires to live the good life with her new rich husband, Dan O'Herlihy. His daughter (Karin Mossberg) resents Turner, mostly just because she's at that rebellious age, and she finds validation from her new boyfriend, George Chakiris, a slick, small-time hustler who hangs out with his druggie friends at a psychedelic nightclub where they ingest LSD-soaked sugar cubes (hence the title). When O'Herlihy and Turner are caught at sea during a storm, he is killed and she returns home, distraught, over-medicated, and suffering from amnesia, but also Mossberg's legal guardian. Chakiris, knowing that Mossberg might be in for a lot of money and knowing that Turner opposes their marriage, talks her into a plan to get Turner out of the way by dosing her medicine with LSD and pulling nasty pranks on her while she's high. They go to court to get Turner declared nuts, then get married, but the wedding party turns into a freakout orgy and Chakiris sleeps with Mossberg's best friend. The disgusted Mossberg turns to Richard Egan, a playwright friend of Turner's who also holds a torch for the actress, tells him what she's done, and he writes a play for Turner in which she'll play a character based on herself; he hopes the play will work as therapy and she'll come back to her senses before she's stashed away in an asylum.
This trippy 60's film, part of another "Camp Classics" set, has a reputation as a kind of MST3K, so-bad-it's-good flick, but I think it's actually a little better than that, though it is best appreciated as "guilty pleasure" camp. Underneath all the LSD references and light-show visuals, this is an old-fashioned GASLIGHT-type melodrama that might have starred Ingrid Bergman or Joan Fontaine if it had been made in the 40's. But it was made in the 60's with Lana Turner nearing the end of her career, and though she might have hoped that it would provide her with a "Baby Jane" comeback, it wasn't good enough to do so. But there are several pleasures to be had here: Turner is actually fine, in a 50's Joan Crawford mode, but she does have a scary face-lift look in her close-ups. Mossberg is not so fine; she seems altogether too goody-goody and her rebellious moods never ring true. Chakiris, a long way from his prestigious Oscar-winning turn as Bernardo in WEST SIDE STORY is OK as the bad boyfriend, doing his best work when he hits rock bottom in the last few minutes. The best scene, and the one everyone who has seen this movie quotes, is in the nightclub when druggie Carlos East decides to dose a musclebound jerk's beer with an acid chaser, snarling, "I'm gonna cube that mother, but good!" The guy's freakout is the highlight of the movie. Mexican actress Regina Torne plays a character called the Queen Bee, known as the lowest form of skank, a drug casualty groupie whom we first see with the muscly bad-tripper; by the end, she's enabling Chakiris' final freakout. If you have a high tolerance for this kind of campy exaggerated melodrama, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. [DVD]
Lana Turner is a stage actress who retires to live the good life with her new rich husband, Dan O'Herlihy. His daughter (Karin Mossberg) resents Turner, mostly just because she's at that rebellious age, and she finds validation from her new boyfriend, George Chakiris, a slick, small-time hustler who hangs out with his druggie friends at a psychedelic nightclub where they ingest LSD-soaked sugar cubes (hence the title). When O'Herlihy and Turner are caught at sea during a storm, he is killed and she returns home, distraught, over-medicated, and suffering from amnesia, but also Mossberg's legal guardian. Chakiris, knowing that Mossberg might be in for a lot of money and knowing that Turner opposes their marriage, talks her into a plan to get Turner out of the way by dosing her medicine with LSD and pulling nasty pranks on her while she's high. They go to court to get Turner declared nuts, then get married, but the wedding party turns into a freakout orgy and Chakiris sleeps with Mossberg's best friend. The disgusted Mossberg turns to Richard Egan, a playwright friend of Turner's who also holds a torch for the actress, tells him what she's done, and he writes a play for Turner in which she'll play a character based on herself; he hopes the play will work as therapy and she'll come back to her senses before she's stashed away in an asylum.
This trippy 60's film, part of another "Camp Classics" set, has a reputation as a kind of MST3K, so-bad-it's-good flick, but I think it's actually a little better than that, though it is best appreciated as "guilty pleasure" camp. Underneath all the LSD references and light-show visuals, this is an old-fashioned GASLIGHT-type melodrama that might have starred Ingrid Bergman or Joan Fontaine if it had been made in the 40's. But it was made in the 60's with Lana Turner nearing the end of her career, and though she might have hoped that it would provide her with a "Baby Jane" comeback, it wasn't good enough to do so. But there are several pleasures to be had here: Turner is actually fine, in a 50's Joan Crawford mode, but she does have a scary face-lift look in her close-ups. Mossberg is not so fine; she seems altogether too goody-goody and her rebellious moods never ring true. Chakiris, a long way from his prestigious Oscar-winning turn as Bernardo in WEST SIDE STORY is OK as the bad boyfriend, doing his best work when he hits rock bottom in the last few minutes. The best scene, and the one everyone who has seen this movie quotes, is in the nightclub when druggie Carlos East decides to dose a musclebound jerk's beer with an acid chaser, snarling, "I'm gonna cube that mother, but good!" The guy's freakout is the highlight of the movie. Mexican actress Regina Torne plays a character called the Queen Bee, known as the lowest form of skank, a drug casualty groupie whom we first see with the muscly bad-tripper; by the end, she's enabling Chakiris' final freakout. If you have a high tolerance for this kind of campy exaggerated melodrama, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. [DVD]
Thursday, August 14, 2008
THE COLOSSUS OF RHODES (1961)
Here's the situation on the island of Rhodes in 280 BC: a giant statue, the Colossus of the title, has just been built in honor of King Serse. It looks like a welcoming figure, but it is actually a huge weapon, capable of shooting molten lead, liquid fire, or catapulted rocks against anyone trying to enter (or leave) the island's main harbor. Serse is a despot, looking to ally himself with some Phoenicians out to plunder passing Greek ships, but two different groups are planning to overthrow the king: a group of Rhodian rebels led by the hot blond hunk Peliocles (Georges Marchal), and a group of Phoenician soldiers led by the King's traitorous assistant Thar (Conrado Sanmartin). Meanwhile, Greek soldier Dario (Rory Calhoun), who came to Rhodes for a vacation with his uncle, winds up in the thick of both plots.
As a cross between an Italian Hercules film and a Hollywood Biblical epic, this is fairly satisfying. It's directed by spaghetti Western king Sergio Leone and uses the widescreen process very nicely--it's called "SuperTotalScope," so you know it's got to be super *and* total (why they couldn't get the word "ultimate" in there somewhere is beyond me.) The Colossus was real, one of the Seven Wonders, but the story here is total fiction. Those who like sword and sandal epics for the sweaty muscled men who get even sweatier when being tortured will love this film, as will those who like Byzantine plots involving bad kings, studly heroes, and the lovely and improbably modern-looking women who love the heroes. Calhoun is not very good--his range consists of smirking or looking quizzical--but he's actually better than most of the musclemen who starred in the Italian hero films of the era (Reg Park, Alan Steele, etc.). The lovely Lea Massari, best known as the girl who vanishes in Antonioni's L'AVVENTURA, is good as the femme fatale who leads Calhoun on a wild goose chase through some creepy secret passages in the King's castle. The best scenes involve the Colossus, especially a fight on the shoulder of the giant structure, and the climactic storm and earthquake don't disappoint. This is another movie from the Warners Camp Classics set, and though it doesn't strike me as campy at all, it is fun to watch. [DVD]
Here's the situation on the island of Rhodes in 280 BC: a giant statue, the Colossus of the title, has just been built in honor of King Serse. It looks like a welcoming figure, but it is actually a huge weapon, capable of shooting molten lead, liquid fire, or catapulted rocks against anyone trying to enter (or leave) the island's main harbor. Serse is a despot, looking to ally himself with some Phoenicians out to plunder passing Greek ships, but two different groups are planning to overthrow the king: a group of Rhodian rebels led by the hot blond hunk Peliocles (Georges Marchal), and a group of Phoenician soldiers led by the King's traitorous assistant Thar (Conrado Sanmartin). Meanwhile, Greek soldier Dario (Rory Calhoun), who came to Rhodes for a vacation with his uncle, winds up in the thick of both plots.
As a cross between an Italian Hercules film and a Hollywood Biblical epic, this is fairly satisfying. It's directed by spaghetti Western king Sergio Leone and uses the widescreen process very nicely--it's called "SuperTotalScope," so you know it's got to be super *and* total (why they couldn't get the word "ultimate" in there somewhere is beyond me.) The Colossus was real, one of the Seven Wonders, but the story here is total fiction. Those who like sword and sandal epics for the sweaty muscled men who get even sweatier when being tortured will love this film, as will those who like Byzantine plots involving bad kings, studly heroes, and the lovely and improbably modern-looking women who love the heroes. Calhoun is not very good--his range consists of smirking or looking quizzical--but he's actually better than most of the musclemen who starred in the Italian hero films of the era (Reg Park, Alan Steele, etc.). The lovely Lea Massari, best known as the girl who vanishes in Antonioni's L'AVVENTURA, is good as the femme fatale who leads Calhoun on a wild goose chase through some creepy secret passages in the King's castle. The best scenes involve the Colossus, especially a fight on the shoulder of the giant structure, and the climactic storm and earthquake don't disappoint. This is another movie from the Warners Camp Classics set, and though it doesn't strike me as campy at all, it is fun to watch. [DVD]
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
LAND OF THE PHARAOHS (1955)
As I've recently watched a couple of movies from Warner Home Video's Camp Classics DVD sets, it may be time to make a stab at explaining the camp experience. It's a difficult concept to pin down. In general, people usually mean some work of art is camp if it feels like a "guilty pleasure"; for example, if they like it even though it seems like bad art (PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE), or if they like it for the wrong reasons (for example, my friends and I enjoying the outrageous acting in THE TEN COMMANDMENTS). Sometimes, something seems campy if minor issues or emotions are heightened all out of proportion, as when Edie Beale calls a court order to clean up her property "the most atrocious thing ever to happen in America" in GREY GARDENS. Some works of art are campy on purpose, though it's easier to wind up with just a bad movie (HOWARD THE DUCK, the WICKER MAN remake) than with a good piece of camp (ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, most of John Waters' films, Adam West as Batman). I think most of the movies in the Warner sets are truly only marginally campy, but I'll delve into them anyway over the next few days, starting with this would-be historical epic.
In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh Khufu (Jack Hawkins) returns to his people with many riches and slaves, and wants to build an inviolable tomb to hold his possessions. He calls upon the enslaved architect Vashtar (John Robertson Justice) to oversee the construction of this great pyramid, and in exchange, Khufu promises to free Vashtar's people. Vashtar designs an elaborate and secret system of passage blocks which will be locked in place upon the death of the Pharaoh, and only he and his hunky assistant Senta (Dewey Martin) know all the secrets of the pyramid; workers who must be told the secrets will wind up either being buried with the Pharaoh or having their tongues ripped out. The building begins with great verve and fanfare, but over fifteen years' time, the people become miserable and Khufu strains the treasuries of the lands which owe him tribute. In lieu of money, Cyprus sends him the sexy Princess Nellifer (Joan Collins) and after a brief battle of wills, she becomes his second wife. As Vashtar goes blind, he gives more responsibility to Senta, who saves Khufu's life one day when a test of the labyrinth almost kills him. Meanwhile, the Princess plots to assassinate Khufu, having been told that she will become Queen thirty days after his death. The plot fails, but the Pharaoh ends up dying from his mortal wounds, and from beyond, he has one last trick to play on his greedy wife.
I guess this is being sold as a "Camp Classic" on the mere presence of the often over-the-top actress Joan Collins. I didn't find the movie to be particularly campy, though Collins does make a fine bitch villainess. It's generally enjoyable, but with Howard Hawks directing and William Faulkner having had a hand in the screenplay, it's disappointing that it's not better than it is. The main problem is the acting (when Joan Collins gives the best performance in the movie, I suspect that's a problem) though the acting isn't awful enough to be campy "good/bad" fun. (I really shouldn't be badmouthing Joan since I have seen very little of her, not having been a fan of Dynasty.) Hawkins is not a very commanding presence to be playing such a powerful ruler--where's Yul Brynner when you need him? Justice is bland, Martin is hot but not very charismatic, and aside from Sydney Chaplin as Collins' co-conspirator, there are no other major characters to bond with. The widescreen is put to good use, the sets and costumes are first-rate, and the chilling ending works well. [DVD]
As I've recently watched a couple of movies from Warner Home Video's Camp Classics DVD sets, it may be time to make a stab at explaining the camp experience. It's a difficult concept to pin down. In general, people usually mean some work of art is camp if it feels like a "guilty pleasure"; for example, if they like it even though it seems like bad art (PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE), or if they like it for the wrong reasons (for example, my friends and I enjoying the outrageous acting in THE TEN COMMANDMENTS). Sometimes, something seems campy if minor issues or emotions are heightened all out of proportion, as when Edie Beale calls a court order to clean up her property "the most atrocious thing ever to happen in America" in GREY GARDENS. Some works of art are campy on purpose, though it's easier to wind up with just a bad movie (HOWARD THE DUCK, the WICKER MAN remake) than with a good piece of camp (ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, most of John Waters' films, Adam West as Batman). I think most of the movies in the Warner sets are truly only marginally campy, but I'll delve into them anyway over the next few days, starting with this would-be historical epic.
In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh Khufu (Jack Hawkins) returns to his people with many riches and slaves, and wants to build an inviolable tomb to hold his possessions. He calls upon the enslaved architect Vashtar (John Robertson Justice) to oversee the construction of this great pyramid, and in exchange, Khufu promises to free Vashtar's people. Vashtar designs an elaborate and secret system of passage blocks which will be locked in place upon the death of the Pharaoh, and only he and his hunky assistant Senta (Dewey Martin) know all the secrets of the pyramid; workers who must be told the secrets will wind up either being buried with the Pharaoh or having their tongues ripped out. The building begins with great verve and fanfare, but over fifteen years' time, the people become miserable and Khufu strains the treasuries of the lands which owe him tribute. In lieu of money, Cyprus sends him the sexy Princess Nellifer (Joan Collins) and after a brief battle of wills, she becomes his second wife. As Vashtar goes blind, he gives more responsibility to Senta, who saves Khufu's life one day when a test of the labyrinth almost kills him. Meanwhile, the Princess plots to assassinate Khufu, having been told that she will become Queen thirty days after his death. The plot fails, but the Pharaoh ends up dying from his mortal wounds, and from beyond, he has one last trick to play on his greedy wife.
I guess this is being sold as a "Camp Classic" on the mere presence of the often over-the-top actress Joan Collins. I didn't find the movie to be particularly campy, though Collins does make a fine bitch villainess. It's generally enjoyable, but with Howard Hawks directing and William Faulkner having had a hand in the screenplay, it's disappointing that it's not better than it is. The main problem is the acting (when Joan Collins gives the best performance in the movie, I suspect that's a problem) though the acting isn't awful enough to be campy "good/bad" fun. (I really shouldn't be badmouthing Joan since I have seen very little of her, not having been a fan of Dynasty.) Hawkins is not a very commanding presence to be playing such a powerful ruler--where's Yul Brynner when you need him? Justice is bland, Martin is hot but not very charismatic, and aside from Sydney Chaplin as Collins' co-conspirator, there are no other major characters to bond with. The widescreen is put to good use, the sets and costumes are first-rate, and the chilling ending works well. [DVD]
Saturday, August 09, 2008
THE CONQUERORS (1932)
This film aims to tell the history of America from after the Civil War to the Depression as filtered through the experience of one family, rather like Noel Coward did for England in CAVALCADE. In 1870's Manhattan, Richard Dix is romancing Ann Harding, daughter of a banker, but her father doesn't approve. When an economic crash hits, the father loses the bank and dies. Dix and Harding marry and head out for the frontier. When they are attacked by river pirates, they wind up in Fort Allen, Nebraska, and are helped by a friendly tavern keeper (Edna May Oliver) and her husband, an alcoholic but equally friendly doctor (Guy Kibbee). They settle there, Dix starts a bank and become prosperous, and they have a family, including a son who dies in an unfortunate train accident. A financial boom period follows, then another bust, but Dix, rather like James Stewart in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, gets the bank through it. There are happy times (their daughter's wedding, their grandson's heroism as a pilot in WWI) and sad (the suicide of their son-in-law), and yet another boom/bust cycle, but as the film comes round to the present (1932), the point is made that the American spirit will prevail.
This is obviously a propaganda film, not for war but for toughing out the Depression, and the family saga aspect suffers a bit; the episodic events whiz by too quickly for us to really get a strong feel for the characters, and the actors aren't given many chances to flesh out their roles. Early on, Harding gives an artificial cheerleading speech for America and ruggedness (and Richard Dix) which is the low point of the film, but otherwise, both actors are up to snuff. I love Edna May Oliver and she's in good shape here, playing a variation on her usual brittle, stiff-backed auntie-type. Kibbee's boozing is mostly comic relief, though it leads directly to the tragic death of the son, in a remarkably well-filmed scene. There are some nicely done impressionistic montage sequences which cover the times between the episodes. The actress who plays the daughter (Julie Haydon) is a dead ringer for Harding. Dix's old-age makeup in the end is some of the best aging work I've seen, and he's also good playing his own grandson. Also with Donald Cook as the weak son-in-law. Recommended. [TCM]
This film aims to tell the history of America from after the Civil War to the Depression as filtered through the experience of one family, rather like Noel Coward did for England in CAVALCADE. In 1870's Manhattan, Richard Dix is romancing Ann Harding, daughter of a banker, but her father doesn't approve. When an economic crash hits, the father loses the bank and dies. Dix and Harding marry and head out for the frontier. When they are attacked by river pirates, they wind up in Fort Allen, Nebraska, and are helped by a friendly tavern keeper (Edna May Oliver) and her husband, an alcoholic but equally friendly doctor (Guy Kibbee). They settle there, Dix starts a bank and become prosperous, and they have a family, including a son who dies in an unfortunate train accident. A financial boom period follows, then another bust, but Dix, rather like James Stewart in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, gets the bank through it. There are happy times (their daughter's wedding, their grandson's heroism as a pilot in WWI) and sad (the suicide of their son-in-law), and yet another boom/bust cycle, but as the film comes round to the present (1932), the point is made that the American spirit will prevail.
This is obviously a propaganda film, not for war but for toughing out the Depression, and the family saga aspect suffers a bit; the episodic events whiz by too quickly for us to really get a strong feel for the characters, and the actors aren't given many chances to flesh out their roles. Early on, Harding gives an artificial cheerleading speech for America and ruggedness (and Richard Dix) which is the low point of the film, but otherwise, both actors are up to snuff. I love Edna May Oliver and she's in good shape here, playing a variation on her usual brittle, stiff-backed auntie-type. Kibbee's boozing is mostly comic relief, though it leads directly to the tragic death of the son, in a remarkably well-filmed scene. There are some nicely done impressionistic montage sequences which cover the times between the episodes. The actress who plays the daughter (Julie Haydon) is a dead ringer for Harding. Dix's old-age makeup in the end is some of the best aging work I've seen, and he's also good playing his own grandson. Also with Donald Cook as the weak son-in-law. Recommended. [TCM]
Thursday, August 07, 2008
COVER ME BABE (1970)
I don't find much of interest on Fox Movie Channel these days--the same Alice Faye and Tyrone Power movies in the daytime and the same mainstream 80's and 90's movies at night. But once in a while, they come through with a doozy, and this is one. Robert Forster is a film student at a California university; the previous year, he was a promising prizewinner, but he's turned to incoherent avant-garde short films (like the one that opens the film), has lost some grant money, and is alienating his friends and colleagues right and left with his bullying attitude and strange theories of film. Forster decides that "reality is the ultimate in theatrical entertainment" (his favorite example is the televised shooting of Lee Harvey Oswald) and begins filming real people in extreme situations: a boy being saved from drowning, two people having sex in the back seat of a car, a suicidal man jumping from a hotel window. He pays a hooker to masturbate in front of his camera and he eggs his girlfriend (Sandra Locke) into an improv bit with a fellow student that nearly leads to rape, then goes off and has an affair with another student (Susanne Benton). He befriends a guy (Floyd Mutrux) who is struggling with his sexual identity and films him trying unsuccessfully to have sex with Benton. Nice fella, huh? By the end, Forester has lost both girls, his film school pals, his faithful camera assistant (a very young Sam Waterston), and a potential studio gig. He goes running on the beach. The end.
This is not a good movie by most objective standards: the production (directed by Noel Black who had just had a small hit with his first film PRETTY POISON) feels amateurish, the acting ranges from indifferent to wooden, and the characters never come to life. However, there are two things about it that almost redeem it. First, Robert Forster does a pretty good job playing a total son-of-a-bitch; he's aloof and obnoxious (and sexy), and to Forster's credit, he never tries to engage the audience's sympathies. His blunt, unfeeling character seems kin to the cameraman he played in MEDIUM COOL. The other interesting thing here is Forster's philosophy of film; his attempts at manipulating reality for entertainment resonate today, from Survivor to Big Brother, from Michael Moore to Flavor Flav. There are also some faint echoes of Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM, though the psychology of Forster's compulsion is never explored. Classic-era player Regis Toomey has a cameo as an aging director who stands for all the things Forster doesn't want to be. The theme song is performed by Bread (yes, the "I wanna make it with you" soft-rock 70's band) and another song has lyrics by Randy Newman. The opening film-within-a-film is fun, but as far as entertainment goes, it's mostly downhill from there. Still, it's worth a look as long as you know what you're getting into. [FCM]
I don't find much of interest on Fox Movie Channel these days--the same Alice Faye and Tyrone Power movies in the daytime and the same mainstream 80's and 90's movies at night. But once in a while, they come through with a doozy, and this is one. Robert Forster is a film student at a California university; the previous year, he was a promising prizewinner, but he's turned to incoherent avant-garde short films (like the one that opens the film), has lost some grant money, and is alienating his friends and colleagues right and left with his bullying attitude and strange theories of film. Forster decides that "reality is the ultimate in theatrical entertainment" (his favorite example is the televised shooting of Lee Harvey Oswald) and begins filming real people in extreme situations: a boy being saved from drowning, two people having sex in the back seat of a car, a suicidal man jumping from a hotel window. He pays a hooker to masturbate in front of his camera and he eggs his girlfriend (Sandra Locke) into an improv bit with a fellow student that nearly leads to rape, then goes off and has an affair with another student (Susanne Benton). He befriends a guy (Floyd Mutrux) who is struggling with his sexual identity and films him trying unsuccessfully to have sex with Benton. Nice fella, huh? By the end, Forester has lost both girls, his film school pals, his faithful camera assistant (a very young Sam Waterston), and a potential studio gig. He goes running on the beach. The end.
This is not a good movie by most objective standards: the production (directed by Noel Black who had just had a small hit with his first film PRETTY POISON) feels amateurish, the acting ranges from indifferent to wooden, and the characters never come to life. However, there are two things about it that almost redeem it. First, Robert Forster does a pretty good job playing a total son-of-a-bitch; he's aloof and obnoxious (and sexy), and to Forster's credit, he never tries to engage the audience's sympathies. His blunt, unfeeling character seems kin to the cameraman he played in MEDIUM COOL. The other interesting thing here is Forster's philosophy of film; his attempts at manipulating reality for entertainment resonate today, from Survivor to Big Brother, from Michael Moore to Flavor Flav. There are also some faint echoes of Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM, though the psychology of Forster's compulsion is never explored. Classic-era player Regis Toomey has a cameo as an aging director who stands for all the things Forster doesn't want to be. The theme song is performed by Bread (yes, the "I wanna make it with you" soft-rock 70's band) and another song has lyrics by Randy Newman. The opening film-within-a-film is fun, but as far as entertainment goes, it's mostly downhill from there. Still, it's worth a look as long as you know what you're getting into. [FCM]
Monday, August 04, 2008
REVEILLE WITH BEVERLY (1943)
This wartime B-musical revue was based (very loosely, I assume) on a radio show of the same title. Ann Miller, in slightly scatterbrained mode, works off and on as a switchboard operator at KFEL. When she decides she has what it takes to be a DJ, she talks the fuddy-duddy early-morning host of a classical music show (Franklin Pangborn) into thinking he's sick and needs a long rest, and she goes on in his slot, playing swing music for the troops at a nearby Army base. Meanwhile, at the base, her brother (Larry Parks) gets friendly with a couple of new recruits, a rich chocolate heir (William Wright) and his chauffeur (Dick Purcell). They hear Miller on the air and have a bet as to whether she's a hag or a hotsy. Parks takes them home to meet her, though Wright, tired of running into gold diggers, insists on switching identities with Purcell. Of course, she's young and lovely and Wright, whom she thinks is a lowly chauffeur, hits it off with Miller. There are some more complications, but that's about it for the plot. Can she keep her show once Pangborn wises up? Will she wind up with the right guy? Will everything get worked out before the troops are called away? Miller is charming and Pangborn is funny, but the reason to watch this one is for the musical numbers, staged like music videos, by people like Frank Sinatra ("Night and Day"), Duke Ellington, ("Take the 'A' Train," performed, duh, on a train, though not a subway train as it should have been), Count Basie ("One O'Clock Jump"), and Ella May Morse ("Cow Cow Boogie"). My favorite song here is Bob Crosby doing "Big Noise from Winnetka," a song I only knew previously from Bette Midler's version. Ann doesn't get to dance until the finale when she has a big patriotic tap number. Tim Ryan is fine as the radio boss and his real-life wife Irene Ryan (Granny on "The Beverly Hillbillies") has a funny bit as a ditzy assistant. [TCM]
This wartime B-musical revue was based (very loosely, I assume) on a radio show of the same title. Ann Miller, in slightly scatterbrained mode, works off and on as a switchboard operator at KFEL. When she decides she has what it takes to be a DJ, she talks the fuddy-duddy early-morning host of a classical music show (Franklin Pangborn) into thinking he's sick and needs a long rest, and she goes on in his slot, playing swing music for the troops at a nearby Army base. Meanwhile, at the base, her brother (Larry Parks) gets friendly with a couple of new recruits, a rich chocolate heir (William Wright) and his chauffeur (Dick Purcell). They hear Miller on the air and have a bet as to whether she's a hag or a hotsy. Parks takes them home to meet her, though Wright, tired of running into gold diggers, insists on switching identities with Purcell. Of course, she's young and lovely and Wright, whom she thinks is a lowly chauffeur, hits it off with Miller. There are some more complications, but that's about it for the plot. Can she keep her show once Pangborn wises up? Will she wind up with the right guy? Will everything get worked out before the troops are called away? Miller is charming and Pangborn is funny, but the reason to watch this one is for the musical numbers, staged like music videos, by people like Frank Sinatra ("Night and Day"), Duke Ellington, ("Take the 'A' Train," performed, duh, on a train, though not a subway train as it should have been), Count Basie ("One O'Clock Jump"), and Ella May Morse ("Cow Cow Boogie"). My favorite song here is Bob Crosby doing "Big Noise from Winnetka," a song I only knew previously from Bette Midler's version. Ann doesn't get to dance until the finale when she has a big patriotic tap number. Tim Ryan is fine as the radio boss and his real-life wife Irene Ryan (Granny on "The Beverly Hillbillies") has a funny bit as a ditzy assistant. [TCM]
Friday, August 01, 2008
LITTLE OLD NEW YORK (1940)
Just by glancing at an encyclopedia entry on inventor Robert Fulton, I can tell that this movie, about Fulton and the building of the first steamboat, is not grounded in the historical record; for starters, in real life Fulton was almost 40 in 1807 when the film begins, but he's played by the youthful Richard Greene, who was only 22 when he filmed this and at the most could pass for 25. Still, this is a fairly entertaining trifle. Greene comes to New York from Europe to secure funding for his steamboat experiment from Chancellor Livingstone (Henry Stephenson) and begin building, but many obstacles present themselves, including the fact that such prominent New Yorkers as Washington Irving and John Jacob Astor don't think that ships without sails are practical. Still, Stephenson finds a way to funnel some money Greene's way, and Greene hits it off with the Chancellor's niece (Brenda Joyce). Alice Faye plays an innkeeper who provides Greene with room and board, and also raises money for his ship, mostly because she develops a crush on him and deludes herself into thinking that he feels the same way. Fred MacMurray plays a shipbuilder who is sweet on Faye and jealous of Greene, but who reluctantly becomes part of his steamboat team. Ward Bond is a shipyard boss who, afraid that Greene's success might mean the end of his livelihood, sets out to sabotage the boat. A government embargo on ships arriving from Europe (something about an overseas war and neutrality concerns) leads to an exciting scene in which Greene and friends smuggle an engine off a ship at night. Of course, there's little suspense in the outcomes of either the shipbuilding (of course he gets it built) or the romances (of course everyone winds up with the right person). Greene's character is the focus of the narrative, but MacMurray and Faye are the real stars of the movie. Faye is fine playing against type as a blowsy roughneck gal, and MacMurray is surprisingly good as a similarly roughneck laborer. There's a strange little running gag in which Faye keeps almost catching her bartender (Ben Carter) stealing rum. Andy Devine plays the owner of a ferry boat line who plays a crucial part in the smuggling scene. The title is a bit misleading since we don't really see much of Old New York except the harbors. [TCM]
Just by glancing at an encyclopedia entry on inventor Robert Fulton, I can tell that this movie, about Fulton and the building of the first steamboat, is not grounded in the historical record; for starters, in real life Fulton was almost 40 in 1807 when the film begins, but he's played by the youthful Richard Greene, who was only 22 when he filmed this and at the most could pass for 25. Still, this is a fairly entertaining trifle. Greene comes to New York from Europe to secure funding for his steamboat experiment from Chancellor Livingstone (Henry Stephenson) and begin building, but many obstacles present themselves, including the fact that such prominent New Yorkers as Washington Irving and John Jacob Astor don't think that ships without sails are practical. Still, Stephenson finds a way to funnel some money Greene's way, and Greene hits it off with the Chancellor's niece (Brenda Joyce). Alice Faye plays an innkeeper who provides Greene with room and board, and also raises money for his ship, mostly because she develops a crush on him and deludes herself into thinking that he feels the same way. Fred MacMurray plays a shipbuilder who is sweet on Faye and jealous of Greene, but who reluctantly becomes part of his steamboat team. Ward Bond is a shipyard boss who, afraid that Greene's success might mean the end of his livelihood, sets out to sabotage the boat. A government embargo on ships arriving from Europe (something about an overseas war and neutrality concerns) leads to an exciting scene in which Greene and friends smuggle an engine off a ship at night. Of course, there's little suspense in the outcomes of either the shipbuilding (of course he gets it built) or the romances (of course everyone winds up with the right person). Greene's character is the focus of the narrative, but MacMurray and Faye are the real stars of the movie. Faye is fine playing against type as a blowsy roughneck gal, and MacMurray is surprisingly good as a similarly roughneck laborer. There's a strange little running gag in which Faye keeps almost catching her bartender (Ben Carter) stealing rum. Andy Devine plays the owner of a ferry boat line who plays a crucial part in the smuggling scene. The title is a bit misleading since we don't really see much of Old New York except the harbors. [TCM]
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