One of the wonderful things about Tigger…, I mean, about DVDs, is that movies that haven't seen the light of day (or the dark of theaters) in years are surfacing as companies search deeper and deeper for more material to satisfy the thirst of audiences for anything on that small silver disc. I'd never heard of this film until someone mentioned it on a classic movie e-mail list I belong to. It's a weird one that's fun for a while, but wears out its welcome halfway through. Handsome sailor Mathieu Carriere arrives on leave in his home town and is approached by two men who tell him it’s his destiny to come with them. He tries to ignore them, sees his sister (Susan Hampshire) on the street, and follows her to a red light district where he gets roughed up in a bar brawl and wakes up the next morning in the family mansion called Malpertuis, surrounded by servants and relatives who are all waiting for the sick family patriarch (Orson Welles, looking the part) to die. Welles tells the assembled group, who all seem a bit on the seedy, enervated side, that in order to receive their money, they must live forever within the confines of the estate. One relative, the lovely and mysterious Euryale (also Susan Hampshire), avoids direct eye contact with Carriere and sits with Welles, helping him to die. Among the assorted characters: a scruffy ill-treated man (Jean-Pierre Cassel) who lives under the stairs, a taxidermist who's been experimenting with creating new life, and three strange sisters (one of whom is, yes, Susan Hampshire) who are always together. There is a secret which makes everything make sense, and it's a good one (too good to reveal here), but it's not executed well, and it's revealed a bit too late in the film to be much fun for the viewer. The cinematography and sets are effective, though Carriere (who, in his white sailor suit, looks like a blond, androgynous Brad Davis from QUERELLE) is not the most charismatic lead actor; Hampshire, however, is quite good in her multiple roles. At best, this is a diverting oddity, too long and tedious to be truly compelling. [DVD]
Friday, April 03, 2009
MALPERTUIS (1971)
One of the wonderful things about Tigger…, I mean, about DVDs, is that movies that haven't seen the light of day (or the dark of theaters) in years are surfacing as companies search deeper and deeper for more material to satisfy the thirst of audiences for anything on that small silver disc. I'd never heard of this film until someone mentioned it on a classic movie e-mail list I belong to. It's a weird one that's fun for a while, but wears out its welcome halfway through. Handsome sailor Mathieu Carriere arrives on leave in his home town and is approached by two men who tell him it’s his destiny to come with them. He tries to ignore them, sees his sister (Susan Hampshire) on the street, and follows her to a red light district where he gets roughed up in a bar brawl and wakes up the next morning in the family mansion called Malpertuis, surrounded by servants and relatives who are all waiting for the sick family patriarch (Orson Welles, looking the part) to die. Welles tells the assembled group, who all seem a bit on the seedy, enervated side, that in order to receive their money, they must live forever within the confines of the estate. One relative, the lovely and mysterious Euryale (also Susan Hampshire), avoids direct eye contact with Carriere and sits with Welles, helping him to die. Among the assorted characters: a scruffy ill-treated man (Jean-Pierre Cassel) who lives under the stairs, a taxidermist who's been experimenting with creating new life, and three strange sisters (one of whom is, yes, Susan Hampshire) who are always together. There is a secret which makes everything make sense, and it's a good one (too good to reveal here), but it's not executed well, and it's revealed a bit too late in the film to be much fun for the viewer. The cinematography and sets are effective, though Carriere (who, in his white sailor suit, looks like a blond, androgynous Brad Davis from QUERELLE) is not the most charismatic lead actor; Hampshire, however, is quite good in her multiple roles. At best, this is a diverting oddity, too long and tedious to be truly compelling. [DVD]
One of the wonderful things about Tigger…, I mean, about DVDs, is that movies that haven't seen the light of day (or the dark of theaters) in years are surfacing as companies search deeper and deeper for more material to satisfy the thirst of audiences for anything on that small silver disc. I'd never heard of this film until someone mentioned it on a classic movie e-mail list I belong to. It's a weird one that's fun for a while, but wears out its welcome halfway through. Handsome sailor Mathieu Carriere arrives on leave in his home town and is approached by two men who tell him it’s his destiny to come with them. He tries to ignore them, sees his sister (Susan Hampshire) on the street, and follows her to a red light district where he gets roughed up in a bar brawl and wakes up the next morning in the family mansion called Malpertuis, surrounded by servants and relatives who are all waiting for the sick family patriarch (Orson Welles, looking the part) to die. Welles tells the assembled group, who all seem a bit on the seedy, enervated side, that in order to receive their money, they must live forever within the confines of the estate. One relative, the lovely and mysterious Euryale (also Susan Hampshire), avoids direct eye contact with Carriere and sits with Welles, helping him to die. Among the assorted characters: a scruffy ill-treated man (Jean-Pierre Cassel) who lives under the stairs, a taxidermist who's been experimenting with creating new life, and three strange sisters (one of whom is, yes, Susan Hampshire) who are always together. There is a secret which makes everything make sense, and it's a good one (too good to reveal here), but it's not executed well, and it's revealed a bit too late in the film to be much fun for the viewer. The cinematography and sets are effective, though Carriere (who, in his white sailor suit, looks like a blond, androgynous Brad Davis from QUERELLE) is not the most charismatic lead actor; Hampshire, however, is quite good in her multiple roles. At best, this is a diverting oddity, too long and tedious to be truly compelling. [DVD]
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
FIVE (1951)
After a nuclear apocalypse (the details of which are apparently unimportant, though given the year of this film's production, it was undoubtedly the Russians' fault), we see a young woman (Susan Douglas) wandering down a road and through a small town, encountering only ruins and dead bodies. She arrives at a nice house in the mountains which belonged to a relative, and finds only a squatter, a handsome, bearded English major (William Phipps) who was working as a guide at the top of the Empire State Building when the bombs hit. With the rest of the population dead of radiation poisoning, the two figure they were shielded somehow, he because he was struck unconscious in an empty elevator and she because she was in a hospital X-ray room getting confirmation of her pregnancy. She's a little shellshocked (hoping unrealistically that her husband is still alive somewhere) and he tries to force his attentions on her, but eventually they work out a living arrangement. Soon they're joined by two bank clerks, an old, sick white man (Earl Lee) and a young, healthy black man (Charles Lampkin). Lee, who shows signs of radiation sickness, dies just as a fifth person arrives, an obnoxiously elitist European adventurer (James Anderson) who was on Mt. Everest and escaped the poison. Lampkin and Phipps do the hard work involved in trying to sustain their little commune, but the racist Anderson, who doesn't even like to be in the same room as Lampkin, wants to head out to nearby towns, sure that others must be alive. Douglas, who delivers an apparently healthy baby, wants to go with him to find her husband. After some violent psychodramas play out, the predictable ending is an Adam and Eve/American Gothic tableau, presenting a glimmer of hope in the bleakness.
This was, I think, the first movie made about a post-nuclear war world, and it was written and directed, on a fairly low budget, by Arch Oboler who was better known for his radio plays. In fact, the dialogue is much more striking than the unimaginative visuals--except for the odd wooden house which was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and owned by Oboler. Though apocalypse movies would eventually become dominated by special effects, this one works fairly well with only some strategically placed skeletons. Douglas and Lampkin are likeable and complex characters and Phipps truly seemed to be an interesting guy (maybe I felt that way because of my own jaded-English-major background). Anderson is suitably unlikable, but we barely get to know Lee. In fact, the movie should probably be called FOUR, since five adults never share the screen. There are plot holes involving Phipps' journey to the house and the fate of Douglas's husband, and there is very little action, but there's something almost quaintly charming about such a low-key apocalypse movie. BTW, although these actors are not famous, all but Lee had fairly long careers, with Phipps and Douglas having film credits right up to the millennium. [TCM]
After a nuclear apocalypse (the details of which are apparently unimportant, though given the year of this film's production, it was undoubtedly the Russians' fault), we see a young woman (Susan Douglas) wandering down a road and through a small town, encountering only ruins and dead bodies. She arrives at a nice house in the mountains which belonged to a relative, and finds only a squatter, a handsome, bearded English major (William Phipps) who was working as a guide at the top of the Empire State Building when the bombs hit. With the rest of the population dead of radiation poisoning, the two figure they were shielded somehow, he because he was struck unconscious in an empty elevator and she because she was in a hospital X-ray room getting confirmation of her pregnancy. She's a little shellshocked (hoping unrealistically that her husband is still alive somewhere) and he tries to force his attentions on her, but eventually they work out a living arrangement. Soon they're joined by two bank clerks, an old, sick white man (Earl Lee) and a young, healthy black man (Charles Lampkin). Lee, who shows signs of radiation sickness, dies just as a fifth person arrives, an obnoxiously elitist European adventurer (James Anderson) who was on Mt. Everest and escaped the poison. Lampkin and Phipps do the hard work involved in trying to sustain their little commune, but the racist Anderson, who doesn't even like to be in the same room as Lampkin, wants to head out to nearby towns, sure that others must be alive. Douglas, who delivers an apparently healthy baby, wants to go with him to find her husband. After some violent psychodramas play out, the predictable ending is an Adam and Eve/American Gothic tableau, presenting a glimmer of hope in the bleakness.This was, I think, the first movie made about a post-nuclear war world, and it was written and directed, on a fairly low budget, by Arch Oboler who was better known for his radio plays. In fact, the dialogue is much more striking than the unimaginative visuals--except for the odd wooden house which was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and owned by Oboler. Though apocalypse movies would eventually become dominated by special effects, this one works fairly well with only some strategically placed skeletons. Douglas and Lampkin are likeable and complex characters and Phipps truly seemed to be an interesting guy (maybe I felt that way because of my own jaded-English-major background). Anderson is suitably unlikable, but we barely get to know Lee. In fact, the movie should probably be called FOUR, since five adults never share the screen. There are plot holes involving Phipps' journey to the house and the fate of Douglas's husband, and there is very little action, but there's something almost quaintly charming about such a low-key apocalypse movie. BTW, although these actors are not famous, all but Lee had fairly long careers, with Phipps and Douglas having film credits right up to the millennium. [TCM]
Sunday, March 29, 2009
THE HELLFIRE CLUB (1961)
Though routinely treated as a horror film (especially by Dark Sky, the company that has issued this on DVD), this is really a period-piece swashbuckler, and as such it's enjoyable, but horror fans will certainly be disappointed, as will anyone hoping for the naughty decadence that title implies. The Hellfire Club was an underground social group of the 1700's which mocked religion in a rather tame manner but was known for supposedly indulging in black masses and orgies. In the movie's opening scene, two boys spy on a meeting of the club, during which it appears as if a Satanic human sacrifice is occurring, but it turns out to be an elaborate jest leading off a mass orgy. When discovered, one of the boys is whipped by his father, the club's leader, and when he and his mother try to escape, their carriage goes over a hill. Both are presumed dead, but the boy survives. Years later, the boy has become an acrobat in a traveling circus; when he (Keith Michell) finds out his father has died and the estate has passed into the hands of his cousin (Peter Arne), the second boy from the opening scene, Michell decides to go claim what is rightfully his. He poses as a groom, gets a job with Arne, has an affair with Adrienne Corri, Arne's lover, and attempts to find a missing document which will back up his claim on the estate. He is helped out by members of his circus troupe, including his longtime love, the buxom Kai Fischer, and by a lawyer (Peter Cushing, in what amounts to a cameo) who has been trying to get evidence against Arne on charges of espionage. At heart, this is a throwback to an old revenge melodrama, which in the classic movie era might have starred Douglas Fairbanks or Errol Flynn. The closest this film comes to that kind of talent is Arne, who does a nice job reveling in his villainy without going into camp. Michell is handsome but colorless, though he's quite good in a brief scene in which he masquerades as a foppish French nobleman. The plotting is satisfactory and the fight scenes are carried off nicely. If only there were a little more blood and a lot more orgies... [DVD]
Though routinely treated as a horror film (especially by Dark Sky, the company that has issued this on DVD), this is really a period-piece swashbuckler, and as such it's enjoyable, but horror fans will certainly be disappointed, as will anyone hoping for the naughty decadence that title implies. The Hellfire Club was an underground social group of the 1700's which mocked religion in a rather tame manner but was known for supposedly indulging in black masses and orgies. In the movie's opening scene, two boys spy on a meeting of the club, during which it appears as if a Satanic human sacrifice is occurring, but it turns out to be an elaborate jest leading off a mass orgy. When discovered, one of the boys is whipped by his father, the club's leader, and when he and his mother try to escape, their carriage goes over a hill. Both are presumed dead, but the boy survives. Years later, the boy has become an acrobat in a traveling circus; when he (Keith Michell) finds out his father has died and the estate has passed into the hands of his cousin (Peter Arne), the second boy from the opening scene, Michell decides to go claim what is rightfully his. He poses as a groom, gets a job with Arne, has an affair with Adrienne Corri, Arne's lover, and attempts to find a missing document which will back up his claim on the estate. He is helped out by members of his circus troupe, including his longtime love, the buxom Kai Fischer, and by a lawyer (Peter Cushing, in what amounts to a cameo) who has been trying to get evidence against Arne on charges of espionage. At heart, this is a throwback to an old revenge melodrama, which in the classic movie era might have starred Douglas Fairbanks or Errol Flynn. The closest this film comes to that kind of talent is Arne, who does a nice job reveling in his villainy without going into camp. Michell is handsome but colorless, though he's quite good in a brief scene in which he masquerades as a foppish French nobleman. The plotting is satisfactory and the fight scenes are carried off nicely. If only there were a little more blood and a lot more orgies... [DVD]
Friday, March 27, 2009
THE TRIUMPH OF SHERLOCK HOLMES (1935)
This Sherlock Holmes adventure, based on "The Valley of Fear," begins with a short scene in which criminal mastermind Prof. Moriarty agrees to help an American thug take out someone. We then jump to Holmes retiring out to the countryside to do some beekeeping; Dr. Watson is soon trying to get him to forget about a mysterious note warning that there will be trouble at Birlstone Castle. The note, however, seems to have come too late, as Inspector Lestrade arrives with news that the squire of the castle, a Mr. Douglas, has been killed, his face blown away with a shotgun. He had a brand on his arm which Holmes recognizes as a mark of the Scowrers, an American secret society centered in Pennsylvania coal country (the "valley of fear" of the novel's title). There's a long flashback sequence in which his American wife Ettie tells Holmes about the group, their terrorizing ways, and why its members may have been looking for Douglas, a man who was living under at least two other names, Murdoch and Edwards. In an unusual move for a Sherlock Holmes film, this flashback, without Holmes or Watson, takes up almost half of the film's running time and makes for an interesting subplot, even more so when we come to suspect that Ettie may be an unreliable narrator. Was Douglas a good guy or a bad guy? Does it matter which name he went under? Why does Holmes obsess about a missing barbell, part of the deceased's daily exercise routine? And how is Moriarty mixed up in all this? The plot is fairly clever and I don't want to spoil anything, but suffice to say that Holmes makes everything clear and justice is served.
I'm a big fan of the American Sherlock Holmes series with Basil Rathbone; I've enjoyed other one-offs (Christopher Plummer, Rupert Everett, Reginald Owen) but I still think Rathbone is the one and only Holmes--though to be fair, I have yet to see Jeremy Brett who played Holmes for British television in the 80's and whom many people think is the best Holmes ever. This British film is one of five which stars Arthur Wontner (who resembles Rathbone) as the fabled detective, and it's quite good. It's also apparently much more faithful to the Doyle stories than the Rathbone films were, most of which were based only on the characters and not individual stories. Ian Fleming (not the James Bond author) makes an OK Watson, who doesn't really have much to do except be the butt of a running gag about Holmes forgetting to introduce him to others. Lyn Harding makes an effective Moriarty, reminding me at times of George Zucco who played Moriarty in the first Rathbone film. Ben Welden, a familiar character face from literally hundreds of movies, mostly in the 30's and 40's, is good as the American thug. The print I saw, from a Goodtimes VHS tape, is not in the best shape; for a low-budget film, the sets were good, especially in the finale set at night in the castle tower. I'd be interested in catching another Wontner Holmes someday. [VHS]
This Sherlock Holmes adventure, based on "The Valley of Fear," begins with a short scene in which criminal mastermind Prof. Moriarty agrees to help an American thug take out someone. We then jump to Holmes retiring out to the countryside to do some beekeeping; Dr. Watson is soon trying to get him to forget about a mysterious note warning that there will be trouble at Birlstone Castle. The note, however, seems to have come too late, as Inspector Lestrade arrives with news that the squire of the castle, a Mr. Douglas, has been killed, his face blown away with a shotgun. He had a brand on his arm which Holmes recognizes as a mark of the Scowrers, an American secret society centered in Pennsylvania coal country (the "valley of fear" of the novel's title). There's a long flashback sequence in which his American wife Ettie tells Holmes about the group, their terrorizing ways, and why its members may have been looking for Douglas, a man who was living under at least two other names, Murdoch and Edwards. In an unusual move for a Sherlock Holmes film, this flashback, without Holmes or Watson, takes up almost half of the film's running time and makes for an interesting subplot, even more so when we come to suspect that Ettie may be an unreliable narrator. Was Douglas a good guy or a bad guy? Does it matter which name he went under? Why does Holmes obsess about a missing barbell, part of the deceased's daily exercise routine? And how is Moriarty mixed up in all this? The plot is fairly clever and I don't want to spoil anything, but suffice to say that Holmes makes everything clear and justice is served.I'm a big fan of the American Sherlock Holmes series with Basil Rathbone; I've enjoyed other one-offs (Christopher Plummer, Rupert Everett, Reginald Owen) but I still think Rathbone is the one and only Holmes--though to be fair, I have yet to see Jeremy Brett who played Holmes for British television in the 80's and whom many people think is the best Holmes ever. This British film is one of five which stars Arthur Wontner (who resembles Rathbone) as the fabled detective, and it's quite good. It's also apparently much more faithful to the Doyle stories than the Rathbone films were, most of which were based only on the characters and not individual stories. Ian Fleming (not the James Bond author) makes an OK Watson, who doesn't really have much to do except be the butt of a running gag about Holmes forgetting to introduce him to others. Lyn Harding makes an effective Moriarty, reminding me at times of George Zucco who played Moriarty in the first Rathbone film. Ben Welden, a familiar character face from literally hundreds of movies, mostly in the 30's and 40's, is good as the American thug. The print I saw, from a Goodtimes VHS tape, is not in the best shape; for a low-budget film, the sets were good, especially in the finale set at night in the castle tower. I'd be interested in catching another Wontner Holmes someday. [VHS]
Monday, March 23, 2009
OH! WHAT A LOVELY WAR (1969)
A unique film which I enjoyed immensely, but which is certainly not for all tastes. On the surface, it seems to have a lot in common with CHU CHIN CHOW; both are strange musicals based on hit stage shows and both have production numbers about battle and death. The director, Richard Attenborough, has deliberately retained the staginess of the piece, while seemingly paradoxically opening the film up quite a bit. In a large, ornate, white ballroom, various European heads of state gather to discuss the political scene. We soon realize that this is not a literal meeting or conference, but a surreal, symbolic representation of how Europe slid into the First World War. The ballroom is set up on a pier at Brighton, a popular seaside tourist attraction (imagine a cleaner Coney Island), and the entire film takes place there, though some scenes of warfare were shot more naturalistically elsewhere, with the war itself presented as a side attraction (the phrase "World War One" is spelled out in neon on an arch under which the soldiers pass as they go off to battle--pictured below). Once the war has begun, we follow the fate of one family, the Smiths, as all the sons become soldiers and the women volunteer as nurses.
The war itself is shown as a series of sketches and musical numbers, mostly popular songs of the era with the lyrics tweaked a bit for dark humor, satirizing the leaders (political and military) and the rich, who pretty much remain above the literal fray, and sympathizing with the soldiers, mostly poor and working-class men dying by the hundreds of thousands as England settles on a policy of suicidally throwing as many men as possible at the enemy in the hope that sheer numbers will win the day. The Smith family members provide a slim narrative thread, but most of the best bits don't directly involve them. Maggie Smith plays a music-hall tart recruiting boys by singing naughtily about having sex with soldiers and sailors. Jean-Pierre Cassell is at the center of a wonderful number which uses a merry-go-round as the central prop to show the fantasy and reality of warfare. The most effective bit is an open-air church scene which juxtaposes traditional hymns led by a minister with cynical parody hymns sung by the troops. The famous "Silent Night" Christmas truce is one of the few war moments presented fairly realistically and it's also a non-satirical highlight of the movie (though it does include one of the funniest parody songs, "Christmas Day in the Cookhouse"). A slew of stars appear in small parts, most notably Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Vanessa Redgrave and her father Michael, Ralph Richardson, and Dirk Bogarde. John Mills has the most substantial role in the film as real-life Field Marshall Douglas Haig who is seen playing leapfrog (literally) with other officers and having soldier casualty numbers put on a giant scoreboard. At nearly 2-1/2 hours, it is a bit long, especially since the anti-war message gives the film a rather one-note feel (though you'll definitely want to stick around for the last stunning shot), but it is worth seeing especially if you are looking for something completely different. [DVD]
A unique film which I enjoyed immensely, but which is certainly not for all tastes. On the surface, it seems to have a lot in common with CHU CHIN CHOW; both are strange musicals based on hit stage shows and both have production numbers about battle and death. The director, Richard Attenborough, has deliberately retained the staginess of the piece, while seemingly paradoxically opening the film up quite a bit. In a large, ornate, white ballroom, various European heads of state gather to discuss the political scene. We soon realize that this is not a literal meeting or conference, but a surreal, symbolic representation of how Europe slid into the First World War. The ballroom is set up on a pier at Brighton, a popular seaside tourist attraction (imagine a cleaner Coney Island), and the entire film takes place there, though some scenes of warfare were shot more naturalistically elsewhere, with the war itself presented as a side attraction (the phrase "World War One" is spelled out in neon on an arch under which the soldiers pass as they go off to battle--pictured below). Once the war has begun, we follow the fate of one family, the Smiths, as all the sons become soldiers and the women volunteer as nurses.
The war itself is shown as a series of sketches and musical numbers, mostly popular songs of the era with the lyrics tweaked a bit for dark humor, satirizing the leaders (political and military) and the rich, who pretty much remain above the literal fray, and sympathizing with the soldiers, mostly poor and working-class men dying by the hundreds of thousands as England settles on a policy of suicidally throwing as many men as possible at the enemy in the hope that sheer numbers will win the day. The Smith family members provide a slim narrative thread, but most of the best bits don't directly involve them. Maggie Smith plays a music-hall tart recruiting boys by singing naughtily about having sex with soldiers and sailors. Jean-Pierre Cassell is at the center of a wonderful number which uses a merry-go-round as the central prop to show the fantasy and reality of warfare. The most effective bit is an open-air church scene which juxtaposes traditional hymns led by a minister with cynical parody hymns sung by the troops. The famous "Silent Night" Christmas truce is one of the few war moments presented fairly realistically and it's also a non-satirical highlight of the movie (though it does include one of the funniest parody songs, "Christmas Day in the Cookhouse"). A slew of stars appear in small parts, most notably Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Vanessa Redgrave and her father Michael, Ralph Richardson, and Dirk Bogarde. John Mills has the most substantial role in the film as real-life Field Marshall Douglas Haig who is seen playing leapfrog (literally) with other officers and having soldier casualty numbers put on a giant scoreboard. At nearly 2-1/2 hours, it is a bit long, especially since the anti-war message gives the film a rather one-note feel (though you'll definitely want to stick around for the last stunning shot), but it is worth seeing especially if you are looking for something completely different. [DVD]
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
ATLANTIC ADVENTURE (1935)
Lloyd Nolan has grown on me over time. I knew him mostly from his role as the old doc on Diahann Carroll's 60's sitcom Julia, and later as Mia Farrow's father in HANNAH AND HER SISTERS, but he's at his best in the B-movies that were his bread and butter in the 30's and 40's (including playing detective Michael Shayne in a handful of solid B-mysteries) before he became a familiar TV face. Here, he's a cocky reporter who, because he's in hot water with his girlfriend, Nancy Carroll, misses an interview with the D.A., and also misses reporting on the crime of the year when the D.A. is murdered in his office. After he's fired, he is determined to break the case and, with Carroll, gets on a cruise ship to keep an eye on some suspects. We find out that there are three different jewel thief gangs on board, with Carroll herself mistaken for a contact by shady Arthur Hohl. Other possible suspects include a crippled old man (John Wray) and his valet (Dwight Frye). The damsel gets in and out of distress, as do Nolan and his cameraman sidekick Harry Langdon before the murderer is brought to justice and Nolan gets his job back. The plot is solid, Nolan is good, and Carroll is serviceable, but Langdon, a former silent film comic near the end of his career, seems either developmentally disabled or perpetually drunk and just isn't very funny. I love that Frye's character is named Spike Jones, several years before the famous musician of the same name started his recording career. [TCM]
Lloyd Nolan has grown on me over time. I knew him mostly from his role as the old doc on Diahann Carroll's 60's sitcom Julia, and later as Mia Farrow's father in HANNAH AND HER SISTERS, but he's at his best in the B-movies that were his bread and butter in the 30's and 40's (including playing detective Michael Shayne in a handful of solid B-mysteries) before he became a familiar TV face. Here, he's a cocky reporter who, because he's in hot water with his girlfriend, Nancy Carroll, misses an interview with the D.A., and also misses reporting on the crime of the year when the D.A. is murdered in his office. After he's fired, he is determined to break the case and, with Carroll, gets on a cruise ship to keep an eye on some suspects. We find out that there are three different jewel thief gangs on board, with Carroll herself mistaken for a contact by shady Arthur Hohl. Other possible suspects include a crippled old man (John Wray) and his valet (Dwight Frye). The damsel gets in and out of distress, as do Nolan and his cameraman sidekick Harry Langdon before the murderer is brought to justice and Nolan gets his job back. The plot is solid, Nolan is good, and Carroll is serviceable, but Langdon, a former silent film comic near the end of his career, seems either developmentally disabled or perpetually drunk and just isn't very funny. I love that Frye's character is named Spike Jones, several years before the famous musician of the same name started his recording career. [TCM]
Sunday, March 15, 2009
WOMAN IN THE MOON (1929)
Here's an oddity: a silent science-fiction romance. Well, maybe not so odd when you consider it was made by Fritz Lang, whose most famous movie, METROPOLIS, could be described the same way. Professor Manfeldt is a scientist who believes that the mountains of the moon are filled with gold and could be profitably mined by us Earthlings; he is considered a fool or swindler by most, but that hasn't stopped him from working for years on a book about his theory. He's become old, frustrated, and eccentric, but his pal Wolf Helius believes in him and arranges a trip to the moon to see if there is gold. Also interested is Walter Turner who, as a representative of a powerful group of five rich capitalists, steals Manfeldt's work and blackmails his way into going along to the moon. His theory: "The moon's riches … ought to be placed in the hands of businessmen and not into those of visionaries and idealists." Also on the trip: Friede, the young woman (named in the credits as a "student of Astronomy") whom Helius is sweet on, and Hans, an engineer who is engaged to Friede. The professor insists on going as well, despite concerns about his age (bringing along his pet mouse Josephine), and a young boy who loves reading science-fiction magazines stows away in secret. Once there, they do indeed discover gold, but the romantic triangle and the greedy villain create problems. One character dies, one is killed, and, when the oxygen supply is depleted, someone has to stay behind when the rocket returns to Earth.
At over 2-1/2 hours, this is way too long to keep the attention of most modern audiences (and even audiences of the time, as the relatively expensive film was a commercial failure). The problem is the set-up for the melodrama; we don't even get to the rocket take-off until 90 minutes in. This is the first film to take the concept of space travel seriously, and critics often comment on the accuracy of much of the science involved in the space shot, though the moon itself has a breathable atmosphere and a earth-like gravity, and the visitors all stroll around in their street clothes. Still, I stuck with this to the end, for several reasons: the model work (the rocket before takeoff, the rocket in space, the lunar landscape), though obvious, is charming; the Turner character--who later in the film sports a Hitler comb-over, is a master of disguise and there is a remarkable shot in which he wipes his hand across his face and his looks change completely (done with an almost imperceptible camera edit); when Manfeldt finds gold up in the mountains, his echoing shout of "GOLD!!!" is visualized and animated as in a comic book; the ending is lushly romantic. The acting is of the typical overdone silent-film style: lots of big gestures and grimaces and pointing, and the worst offender is the guy who plays Hans. My favorite line: after the break-in, Heilus sends his chauffeur to the police station, saying, "Don't bother with long explanations--just bring someone official!" And I love the character name of Wolf Helius. [DVD]
Here's an oddity: a silent science-fiction romance. Well, maybe not so odd when you consider it was made by Fritz Lang, whose most famous movie, METROPOLIS, could be described the same way. Professor Manfeldt is a scientist who believes that the mountains of the moon are filled with gold and could be profitably mined by us Earthlings; he is considered a fool or swindler by most, but that hasn't stopped him from working for years on a book about his theory. He's become old, frustrated, and eccentric, but his pal Wolf Helius believes in him and arranges a trip to the moon to see if there is gold. Also interested is Walter Turner who, as a representative of a powerful group of five rich capitalists, steals Manfeldt's work and blackmails his way into going along to the moon. His theory: "The moon's riches … ought to be placed in the hands of businessmen and not into those of visionaries and idealists." Also on the trip: Friede, the young woman (named in the credits as a "student of Astronomy") whom Helius is sweet on, and Hans, an engineer who is engaged to Friede. The professor insists on going as well, despite concerns about his age (bringing along his pet mouse Josephine), and a young boy who loves reading science-fiction magazines stows away in secret. Once there, they do indeed discover gold, but the romantic triangle and the greedy villain create problems. One character dies, one is killed, and, when the oxygen supply is depleted, someone has to stay behind when the rocket returns to Earth.
At over 2-1/2 hours, this is way too long to keep the attention of most modern audiences (and even audiences of the time, as the relatively expensive film was a commercial failure). The problem is the set-up for the melodrama; we don't even get to the rocket take-off until 90 minutes in. This is the first film to take the concept of space travel seriously, and critics often comment on the accuracy of much of the science involved in the space shot, though the moon itself has a breathable atmosphere and a earth-like gravity, and the visitors all stroll around in their street clothes. Still, I stuck with this to the end, for several reasons: the model work (the rocket before takeoff, the rocket in space, the lunar landscape), though obvious, is charming; the Turner character--who later in the film sports a Hitler comb-over, is a master of disguise and there is a remarkable shot in which he wipes his hand across his face and his looks change completely (done with an almost imperceptible camera edit); when Manfeldt finds gold up in the mountains, his echoing shout of "GOLD!!!" is visualized and animated as in a comic book; the ending is lushly romantic. The acting is of the typical overdone silent-film style: lots of big gestures and grimaces and pointing, and the worst offender is the guy who plays Hans. My favorite line: after the break-in, Heilus sends his chauffeur to the police station, saying, "Don't bother with long explanations--just bring someone official!" And I love the character name of Wolf Helius. [DVD]
Thursday, March 12, 2009
TWO THOUSAND WOMEN (1944)
[aka 2000 WOMEN] The title of this wartime propaganda film refers to British women living in or visiting France who, with the outbreak of World War II, have been stranded there and rounded up in an internment camp in the town of Marville. Though some of the conditions are less than ideal (no heat in the building, communal baths), the camp is set up in a fancy hotel, there are lots of social activities, and there are only two women per huge room, so there are times when I forgot it was essentially a prison and not a summer resort. We follow the fortunes of a handful of women, starting with Patricia Roc, whom we see arrested a few months before the start of the war; she's dressed as a nun but the police suspect she's a German spy and she's thrown in jail; with the German invasion, she's moved to the hotel. We slowly learn more about her as the film progresses and she's essentially the central character, but she's also not terribly interesting. Flora Robson is a rich lady who, when she hears British planes overhead one night, deliberately throws open a window in defiance of the blackout; Muriel Aked is her companion (and possibly her "life partner," though that is only subtly suggested); Jean Kent is a stripper who, as she seems to be romancing a Nazi clerk in order to get favors, may also be an informer. Betty Jardine is officially in charge of making things run smoothly (the Nazis generally allow no men inside except the elderly hotel owner), and Phyllis Calvert is a friendly den-mother figure who takes charge of things when three stranded RAF pilots wind up taking shelter in the hotel.
Where the first half of the film is all about getting to the know the women, their routines, and their relationships, the second half is an extended cat-and-mouse game with the women first hiding the pilots, then plotting their escape. The generally light tone of the film darkens somewhat in the suspenseful last half-hour, with an especially tense scene set at a concert held in the hotel. A whispered message is sent through the female audience that, as the building is being searched, the airmen are hiding in plain sight, in drag, but suddenly we realize that the message will soon be passed on to the one character we know is a Nazi spy. It's a scene worthy of Hitchcock, though unfortunately the later climax, at a talent show with German officers in attendance, is botched with bad timing and underwhelming plotting. The ending is interesting in that, while the women get away with their plot, many of them wind up in a position which will certainly doom them to concentration camps (two characters get sent off to one earlier) or worse. This is where the primary propaganda message, sacrifice for others will be required, is most obvious: the last shot is of all the women singing, "There Will Always Be an England." This rarely-seen film made its TCM debut a few months ago, and I hope it returns soon. [TCM]
[aka 2000 WOMEN] The title of this wartime propaganda film refers to British women living in or visiting France who, with the outbreak of World War II, have been stranded there and rounded up in an internment camp in the town of Marville. Though some of the conditions are less than ideal (no heat in the building, communal baths), the camp is set up in a fancy hotel, there are lots of social activities, and there are only two women per huge room, so there are times when I forgot it was essentially a prison and not a summer resort. We follow the fortunes of a handful of women, starting with Patricia Roc, whom we see arrested a few months before the start of the war; she's dressed as a nun but the police suspect she's a German spy and she's thrown in jail; with the German invasion, she's moved to the hotel. We slowly learn more about her as the film progresses and she's essentially the central character, but she's also not terribly interesting. Flora Robson is a rich lady who, when she hears British planes overhead one night, deliberately throws open a window in defiance of the blackout; Muriel Aked is her companion (and possibly her "life partner," though that is only subtly suggested); Jean Kent is a stripper who, as she seems to be romancing a Nazi clerk in order to get favors, may also be an informer. Betty Jardine is officially in charge of making things run smoothly (the Nazis generally allow no men inside except the elderly hotel owner), and Phyllis Calvert is a friendly den-mother figure who takes charge of things when three stranded RAF pilots wind up taking shelter in the hotel.
Where the first half of the film is all about getting to the know the women, their routines, and their relationships, the second half is an extended cat-and-mouse game with the women first hiding the pilots, then plotting their escape. The generally light tone of the film darkens somewhat in the suspenseful last half-hour, with an especially tense scene set at a concert held in the hotel. A whispered message is sent through the female audience that, as the building is being searched, the airmen are hiding in plain sight, in drag, but suddenly we realize that the message will soon be passed on to the one character we know is a Nazi spy. It's a scene worthy of Hitchcock, though unfortunately the later climax, at a talent show with German officers in attendance, is botched with bad timing and underwhelming plotting. The ending is interesting in that, while the women get away with their plot, many of them wind up in a position which will certainly doom them to concentration camps (two characters get sent off to one earlier) or worse. This is where the primary propaganda message, sacrifice for others will be required, is most obvious: the last shot is of all the women singing, "There Will Always Be an England." This rarely-seen film made its TCM debut a few months ago, and I hope it returns soon. [TCM]
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
THEODORA GOES WILD (1936)
Thomas Mitchell is the editor of a small-town Connecticut newspaper who is in hot water for running a scandalous serialized novel. We soon discover that the author of this best-seller, Carolyn Adams, is actually Theodora Lynn (Irene Dunne), an unmarried woman of a certain age who has never really "lived" (in the Auntie Mame sense). She lives with her aunts and has kept her writing career a secret, but after a visit to her New York publisher, an illustrator (Melvyn Douglas) hears her story and, intrigued, follows her back to Connecticut where he decides it's his mission to liberate Dunne from her stifling little world. He takes a job as a gardener for the aunts so he can be close to Dunne and hounds her to death about her double life until finally, having fallen in love with Douglas, Dunne takes a stand and comes out, so to speak, to her aunts and the town ladies. However, after this, Douglas races back to the big city and it turns out he's living his own hypocritical double life: he's been in a loveless marriage for years but can't get a divorce as it might damage his father's political career. Dunne turns the tables on Douglas, moves into his apartment, announces to the press that she is Carolyn Adams, and sets about to liberate Douglas.
This is a well-regarded example of screwball comedy and much of it does work well; Dunne is especially delicious in the scenes in which she is getting her revenge in New York. As in most screwball films, there is a strong supporting cast, including Mitchell, Spring Byington, Thurston Hall, and Robert Greig. But Douglas is the sticking point for me; as in BRINGING UP BABY, this is a screwball comedy that ultimately doesn't work for me because I can't get past the irritating nature of a major character who I'm supposed to see as charming. Still, this is generally a solid production that I'm not sorry to have seen. [TCM]
Thomas Mitchell is the editor of a small-town Connecticut newspaper who is in hot water for running a scandalous serialized novel. We soon discover that the author of this best-seller, Carolyn Adams, is actually Theodora Lynn (Irene Dunne), an unmarried woman of a certain age who has never really "lived" (in the Auntie Mame sense). She lives with her aunts and has kept her writing career a secret, but after a visit to her New York publisher, an illustrator (Melvyn Douglas) hears her story and, intrigued, follows her back to Connecticut where he decides it's his mission to liberate Dunne from her stifling little world. He takes a job as a gardener for the aunts so he can be close to Dunne and hounds her to death about her double life until finally, having fallen in love with Douglas, Dunne takes a stand and comes out, so to speak, to her aunts and the town ladies. However, after this, Douglas races back to the big city and it turns out he's living his own hypocritical double life: he's been in a loveless marriage for years but can't get a divorce as it might damage his father's political career. Dunne turns the tables on Douglas, moves into his apartment, announces to the press that she is Carolyn Adams, and sets about to liberate Douglas.This is a well-regarded example of screwball comedy and much of it does work well; Dunne is especially delicious in the scenes in which she is getting her revenge in New York. As in most screwball films, there is a strong supporting cast, including Mitchell, Spring Byington, Thurston Hall, and Robert Greig. But Douglas is the sticking point for me; as in BRINGING UP BABY, this is a screwball comedy that ultimately doesn't work for me because I can't get past the irritating nature of a major character who I'm supposed to see as charming. Still, this is generally a solid production that I'm not sorry to have seen. [TCM]
Saturday, March 07, 2009
THE PHANTOM LIGHT (1935)
A variation on the "old dark house" thriller set during one night at a Welsh lighthouse rumored to be haunted, where a phantom light has lured ships to doom on the rocks. The first 20 minutes or so follow three strangers as they make their way to the lighthouse one fateful night: the newly appointed lighthouse keeper (Gordon Harker), whose predecessor died mysteriously, is the only one to make the trip to the lighthouse legitimately; a reporter (Ian Hunter) and a young woman (Binnie Hale) sneak their way onto the tiny lighthouse island and are allowed to spend the night. It turns out that Hunter's brother is on a ship due to arrive that night, and he's there to make sure that his brother's ship doesn't meet a tragic fate. The rest of the film is confined to the lighthouse as the three main characters eventually begin working together to figure out whether the other folks staying the night have good or bad intentions. This British "quota quickie" directed by Michael Powell is very similar in atmosphere and execution to any number of American B-thrillers along the same lines. This has a light comic touch, mostly due to Harker, and though the outcome is predictable, there is fun to be had along the way, if little evidence of Powell's future talents (BLACK NARCISSUS, STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN, etc.). On the MPI Classic British Thrillers disc. [DVD]
A variation on the "old dark house" thriller set during one night at a Welsh lighthouse rumored to be haunted, where a phantom light has lured ships to doom on the rocks. The first 20 minutes or so follow three strangers as they make their way to the lighthouse one fateful night: the newly appointed lighthouse keeper (Gordon Harker), whose predecessor died mysteriously, is the only one to make the trip to the lighthouse legitimately; a reporter (Ian Hunter) and a young woman (Binnie Hale) sneak their way onto the tiny lighthouse island and are allowed to spend the night. It turns out that Hunter's brother is on a ship due to arrive that night, and he's there to make sure that his brother's ship doesn't meet a tragic fate. The rest of the film is confined to the lighthouse as the three main characters eventually begin working together to figure out whether the other folks staying the night have good or bad intentions. This British "quota quickie" directed by Michael Powell is very similar in atmosphere and execution to any number of American B-thrillers along the same lines. This has a light comic touch, mostly due to Harker, and though the outcome is predictable, there is fun to be had along the way, if little evidence of Powell's future talents (BLACK NARCISSUS, STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN, etc.). On the MPI Classic British Thrillers disc. [DVD]
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
STORM CENTER (1956)
Full disclosure: The first job I ever applied for, at the tender age of 16, was at a public library. I didn't get it. But all through my school years (elementary through grad school), I loved libraries and in all my years at OSU, I spent more time in libraries than I did in campus bars. I've always been a reader, I worked for many years in bookstores, and now, in middle years of my life, I'm finally working at a library--though since my degree isn't in library science, I dare not call myself a "librarian" under pain of condescending looks from my colleagues. There aren't many movies about librarians; THE MUSIC MAN, GOOD NEWS, DESK SET, PARTY GIRL, and IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE (if you count the 3-minute sequence of Mary Bailey as an old-maid in the fantasy Pottersville sequence) are all I could come up with. STORM CENTER used to show up on TV on weekend afternoons in the 60's but it's much harder to come by today, so I was ecstatic when it showed up on TCM's schedule recently. It's a pretty drab affair, but for librarian-movie fans, it's a must-see.
[Spoiler Alert!!] Bette Davis is, yes, a maiden lady librarian in a small town (actually, if I recall correctly, she was married but her husband died young). She loves her job and has a good relationship with the town's kids, especially little Kevin Coughlin who loves books even though his dad isn't so happy about that. One day, the city council finds out that the library has a book on Communism on its shelves and they ask Davis to pull it from the collection. At first, she agrees to, but then realizes that once such censorship starts, who knows where it will end, so she puts it back on the shelves. Council member Brian Keith finds some information showing Davis once belonged to a Communist front group, and he threatens to smear her with it. Little Kevin becomes upset, avoids Davis, and starts having bad dreams about snakes slithering out of book pages. Eventually, things come to a head when Davis is forced to leave her job just as the library is about to break ground on a new children's wing. Some well-meaning friends get Davis to attend the ceremony, but little Kevin winds up causing a big scene, and that night, he sets the library on fire.
The idea of a movie about libraries and the First Amendment is an interesting one, but it's not exactly an inherently exciting topic, and the muddled script doesn't help. For starters, it mixes the issues of censorship and McCarthyist witch-hunting, giving neither issue a full airing. None of the characters here are three-dimensional, especially the boy's hateful father (Joe Mantell). Davis's assistant (Kim Stanley) is sympathetic to her concerns, but is Keith’s girlfriend and has no qualms about continuing to date him even as his actions are ruining Davis' life. Davis is lifeless (perhaps that's what she thought librarians were like); the best performances are from Paul Kelly and Edward C. Platt as friends of Davis who do their best to stand by her, and by 10-year-old Coughlin. This is by no means a bad movie, but nowadays it comes off like a particularly slow-paced Lifetime TV movie, which is not a plus. [TCM]
Full disclosure: The first job I ever applied for, at the tender age of 16, was at a public library. I didn't get it. But all through my school years (elementary through grad school), I loved libraries and in all my years at OSU, I spent more time in libraries than I did in campus bars. I've always been a reader, I worked for many years in bookstores, and now, in middle years of my life, I'm finally working at a library--though since my degree isn't in library science, I dare not call myself a "librarian" under pain of condescending looks from my colleagues. There aren't many movies about librarians; THE MUSIC MAN, GOOD NEWS, DESK SET, PARTY GIRL, and IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE (if you count the 3-minute sequence of Mary Bailey as an old-maid in the fantasy Pottersville sequence) are all I could come up with. STORM CENTER used to show up on TV on weekend afternoons in the 60's but it's much harder to come by today, so I was ecstatic when it showed up on TCM's schedule recently. It's a pretty drab affair, but for librarian-movie fans, it's a must-see.
[Spoiler Alert!!] Bette Davis is, yes, a maiden lady librarian in a small town (actually, if I recall correctly, she was married but her husband died young). She loves her job and has a good relationship with the town's kids, especially little Kevin Coughlin who loves books even though his dad isn't so happy about that. One day, the city council finds out that the library has a book on Communism on its shelves and they ask Davis to pull it from the collection. At first, she agrees to, but then realizes that once such censorship starts, who knows where it will end, so she puts it back on the shelves. Council member Brian Keith finds some information showing Davis once belonged to a Communist front group, and he threatens to smear her with it. Little Kevin becomes upset, avoids Davis, and starts having bad dreams about snakes slithering out of book pages. Eventually, things come to a head when Davis is forced to leave her job just as the library is about to break ground on a new children's wing. Some well-meaning friends get Davis to attend the ceremony, but little Kevin winds up causing a big scene, and that night, he sets the library on fire.The idea of a movie about libraries and the First Amendment is an interesting one, but it's not exactly an inherently exciting topic, and the muddled script doesn't help. For starters, it mixes the issues of censorship and McCarthyist witch-hunting, giving neither issue a full airing. None of the characters here are three-dimensional, especially the boy's hateful father (Joe Mantell). Davis's assistant (Kim Stanley) is sympathetic to her concerns, but is Keith’s girlfriend and has no qualms about continuing to date him even as his actions are ruining Davis' life. Davis is lifeless (perhaps that's what she thought librarians were like); the best performances are from Paul Kelly and Edward C. Platt as friends of Davis who do their best to stand by her, and by 10-year-old Coughlin. This is by no means a bad movie, but nowadays it comes off like a particularly slow-paced Lifetime TV movie, which is not a plus. [TCM]
Sunday, March 01, 2009
THE CIRCUS QUEEN MURDER (1933)
Big city DA Adolphe Menjou tries to get some time away from a current crime wave by taking a vacation with his secretary (Ruthelma Stevens) out in rural small-town New York state (specifically in the town of Gilead, where he hopes to find some balm), only to get embroiled in the happenings of a traveling circus. Star trapeze artist Greta Nissen is on the outs with her husband (Dwight Frye) and having an affair with Donald Cook, her co-featured acrobat (pictured, and not, despite the get up, the queen of the title). Written death threats are being sent to several troupe members, and a group of African cannibals who are part of the side show are making people nervous ever since one of them seemingly vanished between the last town and Gilead. Of course, thanks to the title, we know that Nissen will bite the dust eventually, but it takes until the last 15 minutes for it to happen. Because of an early plot point in which Menjou is seen teaching his secretary how to lip read, we know that skill will come in handy later on. And since neurotic Frye is in the film, we know he's a bad guy, or at least a crazy guy. Most of this hour-long thriller is pretty predictable, but it's still fun to watch, thanks not only to good performances all around--even the ever-smarmy Cook gets to display more range than usual, though the ever-squirrely Frye doesn't--but also to deliberate pacing which allows a decent amount of attention to character. The climactic trapeze show is tense and well-shot. Menjou and Stevens have a good chemistry; they might be on-the-sly lovers, or they might be Perry Mason-Della Street friends; it was never quite clear to me. This is the second film in which they played these characters, and it's a shame more weren't made. [TCM]
Big city DA Adolphe Menjou tries to get some time away from a current crime wave by taking a vacation with his secretary (Ruthelma Stevens) out in rural small-town New York state (specifically in the town of Gilead, where he hopes to find some balm), only to get embroiled in the happenings of a traveling circus. Star trapeze artist Greta Nissen is on the outs with her husband (Dwight Frye) and having an affair with Donald Cook, her co-featured acrobat (pictured, and not, despite the get up, the queen of the title). Written death threats are being sent to several troupe members, and a group of African cannibals who are part of the side show are making people nervous ever since one of them seemingly vanished between the last town and Gilead. Of course, thanks to the title, we know that Nissen will bite the dust eventually, but it takes until the last 15 minutes for it to happen. Because of an early plot point in which Menjou is seen teaching his secretary how to lip read, we know that skill will come in handy later on. And since neurotic Frye is in the film, we know he's a bad guy, or at least a crazy guy. Most of this hour-long thriller is pretty predictable, but it's still fun to watch, thanks not only to good performances all around--even the ever-smarmy Cook gets to display more range than usual, though the ever-squirrely Frye doesn't--but also to deliberate pacing which allows a decent amount of attention to character. The climactic trapeze show is tense and well-shot. Menjou and Stevens have a good chemistry; they might be on-the-sly lovers, or they might be Perry Mason-Della Street friends; it was never quite clear to me. This is the second film in which they played these characters, and it's a shame more weren't made. [TCM]
Saturday, February 28, 2009
TRANSGRESSION (1931)
Paul Cavanagh is going to Bombay for a year on business, and is sure that his wife (Kay Francis) couldn't take "the rotten food, the natives," and the general lack of civilization, so he sends her off to Paris, despite the warnings of his snooty, meddling spinster sister who doesn’t think Francis can be trusted. Sure enough, while in Paris, Francis begins an affair with a Spanish Don (Ricardo Cortez, pictured)--we're told it's platonic, but I don't really buy that. At the end of the year, she wants to break things off, but Cavanagh arrives in Paris a little ahead of schedule and complains about how "sophisticated" she's become (wearing make-up and all) and gives her a week to say goodbye to her friends and join him back in London. She goes to Cortez's house in Spain, expecting there to be a farewell party, but he tricks her and she's alone with him on a stormy night. He pours on all his oily charm to get her to leave her husband; she ends up writing Cavanagh a letter to that effect, but just after it's mailed, Cortez's nemesis, a man whose teenage daughter was seduced and abandoned by Cortez years ago, arrives and shoots Cortez dead. Can Francis get to London and intercept the letter before Cavanagh or his sister read it? This pre-Code melodrama feels quite creaky now, though it may have played very well back then. It seems completely unbelievable that Francis and Cortez would have been flirting for a whole year without at least a little heavy canoodling. Though I like both actors, they don't have a lot of chemistry together. The twist of the murderous intruder is set up very briefly with an obscure reference to some homeland troubles during one of the Paris scenes, but it's still a rather outlandish plot device. Not one of Francis's better vehicles. [TCM]
Paul Cavanagh is going to Bombay for a year on business, and is sure that his wife (Kay Francis) couldn't take "the rotten food, the natives," and the general lack of civilization, so he sends her off to Paris, despite the warnings of his snooty, meddling spinster sister who doesn’t think Francis can be trusted. Sure enough, while in Paris, Francis begins an affair with a Spanish Don (Ricardo Cortez, pictured)--we're told it's platonic, but I don't really buy that. At the end of the year, she wants to break things off, but Cavanagh arrives in Paris a little ahead of schedule and complains about how "sophisticated" she's become (wearing make-up and all) and gives her a week to say goodbye to her friends and join him back in London. She goes to Cortez's house in Spain, expecting there to be a farewell party, but he tricks her and she's alone with him on a stormy night. He pours on all his oily charm to get her to leave her husband; she ends up writing Cavanagh a letter to that effect, but just after it's mailed, Cortez's nemesis, a man whose teenage daughter was seduced and abandoned by Cortez years ago, arrives and shoots Cortez dead. Can Francis get to London and intercept the letter before Cavanagh or his sister read it? This pre-Code melodrama feels quite creaky now, though it may have played very well back then. It seems completely unbelievable that Francis and Cortez would have been flirting for a whole year without at least a little heavy canoodling. Though I like both actors, they don't have a lot of chemistry together. The twist of the murderous intruder is set up very briefly with an obscure reference to some homeland troubles during one of the Paris scenes, but it's still a rather outlandish plot device. Not one of Francis's better vehicles. [TCM]
Thursday, February 26, 2009
SPECIAL AGENT (1949)
"Railroads are fascinating to everybody!" says the overbearing narrator at the beginning of this B-crime film about a railroad agent (William Eythe) and his pursuit of a pair of killers. Eythe, a new recruit, is given his first assignment in a sleepy California town; he's friendly with everyone, including engineer Jake and his wife and kids, and is sweet on Laura Elliott, daughter of a crusty old engineer (known, of course, as Pops). During a routine trip, a train is stopped in a tunnel, the mail car robbed, and Pops and Jake are killed. For Eythe, it's personal and he becomes consumed by the hunt for the killers. One of the clues is a copy of "War & Peace" left behind at the scene, leading someone to comment, "Obviously we're not dealing with ordinary men." Well, the crooks, the Deveraux brothers, Paul (George Reeves) and Ed (Paul Valentine), are pretty ordinary; they've committed the robbery in order to raise money so their impoverished grandfather can buy back some farmland--the narrator helpfully tells us that the old man's ranch looked like "a once-beautiful woman grown old and slatternly." The trail grows cold, until a lab tech finds evidence that the crooks worked as loggers and ranch hands. The nerdy tech also draws remarkably detailed sketches of the suspects, though how he got those from the physical evidence, I have no idea. Anyway, Eythe gets back on the trail and after a tip from a couple of kids, a well-laid trap, and a couple of shootouts, the agents get their men.
This was decent B-movie fun, despite many liabilities. The acting is not very good: Eythe, only 30 but already in career (and looks) decline, seems to be sleepwalking through his part; Valentine gives an oddly mannered performance as the tough-guy brother; Elliott is OK, though she's not really given much screen time—years later, she was Farley Granger's slutty wife in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN and, after changing her name to Kasey Rogers, was Larry Tate's wife on "Bewitched." Reeves is head and shoulders the best actor here. The narration, perhaps intended to give the film a documentary feel and to cut back on expenses by delivering lots of plot points in voiceover rather than showing them happening, is mostly obtrusive and laughable. The Alpha DVD print is just on the edge of acceptable; the night scenes, which include most of the action in the film, are too murky. The story works well, and a little more development of relationships (between Eythe and the dead men, between Eythe and Elliot, between the brothers) would have made things more interesting. Perhaps a better print of this Pine-Thomas B-film, once distributed by Paramount, will turn up someday. [DVD]
"Railroads are fascinating to everybody!" says the overbearing narrator at the beginning of this B-crime film about a railroad agent (William Eythe) and his pursuit of a pair of killers. Eythe, a new recruit, is given his first assignment in a sleepy California town; he's friendly with everyone, including engineer Jake and his wife and kids, and is sweet on Laura Elliott, daughter of a crusty old engineer (known, of course, as Pops). During a routine trip, a train is stopped in a tunnel, the mail car robbed, and Pops and Jake are killed. For Eythe, it's personal and he becomes consumed by the hunt for the killers. One of the clues is a copy of "War & Peace" left behind at the scene, leading someone to comment, "Obviously we're not dealing with ordinary men." Well, the crooks, the Deveraux brothers, Paul (George Reeves) and Ed (Paul Valentine), are pretty ordinary; they've committed the robbery in order to raise money so their impoverished grandfather can buy back some farmland--the narrator helpfully tells us that the old man's ranch looked like "a once-beautiful woman grown old and slatternly." The trail grows cold, until a lab tech finds evidence that the crooks worked as loggers and ranch hands. The nerdy tech also draws remarkably detailed sketches of the suspects, though how he got those from the physical evidence, I have no idea. Anyway, Eythe gets back on the trail and after a tip from a couple of kids, a well-laid trap, and a couple of shootouts, the agents get their men.This was decent B-movie fun, despite many liabilities. The acting is not very good: Eythe, only 30 but already in career (and looks) decline, seems to be sleepwalking through his part; Valentine gives an oddly mannered performance as the tough-guy brother; Elliott is OK, though she's not really given much screen time—years later, she was Farley Granger's slutty wife in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN and, after changing her name to Kasey Rogers, was Larry Tate's wife on "Bewitched." Reeves is head and shoulders the best actor here. The narration, perhaps intended to give the film a documentary feel and to cut back on expenses by delivering lots of plot points in voiceover rather than showing them happening, is mostly obtrusive and laughable. The Alpha DVD print is just on the edge of acceptable; the night scenes, which include most of the action in the film, are too murky. The story works well, and a little more development of relationships (between Eythe and the dead men, between Eythe and Elliot, between the brothers) would have made things more interesting. Perhaps a better print of this Pine-Thomas B-film, once distributed by Paramount, will turn up someday. [DVD]
Sunday, February 22, 2009
PLAY GIRL (1941)
Kay Francis plays a woman of a certain age who has a reputation for making her living by trapping men in breach of promise suits; the film begins at Lake Placid with the father of her latest target warning her to stay away from his son. She and her companion (Margaret Hamilton) head to Florida where the pickings are usually easier, but Francis is aging and it's harder for her bait to get some nibbles. Instead, she winds up taking a poor young thing (Mildred Coles) under her wing to show her the ropes of gold-digging. On the way to Chicago, the women have an encounter with handsome cattleman James Ellison, and Coles takes a particular shine to him, but Francis is sure that Coles can do better, and sets her up with businessman Nigel Bruce, rich but considerably older and stodgier. Coles goes about setting Bruce up for a fall and gets $50,000 out of him. Just as Francis gets Coles another target, Ellison re-enters the picture and Coles starts to date him until she discovers he's actually a millionaire; he proposes but she's afraid he'll think she just wants his money and she runs off. Francis makes a successful play for Ellison until Ellison's mother comes to his rescue. In a rushed ending, Francis backs off and gets Ellison and Coles back together, with the promise of snagging Ellison's uncle for herself.
This should have been a fizzy screwball comedy, but something is off in any number of departments: Francis is OK but seems too old to play gold digger, and not old enough to settle for less than love—it might have worked if she'd come off as either peppier or drabber. Coles is a forgettable love interest and has little chemistry with Ellison, who is otherwise fine as the romantic lead. The supporting cast is fairly strong: Bruce is amusing, and I quite enjoyed the unexpected moment when he makes fun of Francis's troubles enunciating her "R's" (though Francis also gets in a jab at Bruce's mannerisms); Hamilton is even better, miles away from the Wicked Witch, in full modern spinster mode. Though the part isn't exactly taxing, she's fun and I'm sorry she didn't more do more roles like this. Also with the handsome Kane Richmond and the always welcome Cecil Cunningham. The pace is a little slow and the look of the movie is rather low-budget. OK if not top-drawer romantic comedy. [TCM]
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
THE ICE FOLLIES OF 1939 (1939)
On paper, this sounds quite odd: a movie with Joan Crawford and James Stewart as a show biz ice-skating couple which culminates in a 15 minute Technicolor ice follies sequence. Unfortunately, it's really a rather dull affair, one in a long line of dreary movies of the classic era in which a fragile male can't take his wife's (or girlfriend's) success, causing the breakup of their relationship until he proves himself to be the better breadwinner. Stewart, Crawford, and Lew Ayers are an ice-skating act, with Crawford singing, but they're fired because the boss thinks that skating and singing don't mix. Crawford and Stewart marry, and Ayers, feeling like a fifth wheel, leaves the act. Crawford finagles her way into the office of studio boss Lewis Stone and gets a contract, a new name, a glamorous image, and a breakout movie role, all in about five minutes. Stewart, upset at her success, leaves her to become a producer of ice shows. Over time, they all run into each other again, Ayers becoming a producing partner with Stewart, and eventually Crawford quits the movies to be with her man. One problem here is that Stewart and Ayers (pictured in their simply charming ice-skating outfits) have more chemistry together that Stewart and Crawford. Another problem is the predictability of the stupid male-pride plot; as soon as Crawford leaves the studio boss's office, you know she'll have to give up her career in the end. Lionel Stander has a small role as an agent. The various musical bits are OK, but unless you're an ice follies freak, there's no reason to sit though this. [TCM]
On paper, this sounds quite odd: a movie with Joan Crawford and James Stewart as a show biz ice-skating couple which culminates in a 15 minute Technicolor ice follies sequence. Unfortunately, it's really a rather dull affair, one in a long line of dreary movies of the classic era in which a fragile male can't take his wife's (or girlfriend's) success, causing the breakup of their relationship until he proves himself to be the better breadwinner. Stewart, Crawford, and Lew Ayers are an ice-skating act, with Crawford singing, but they're fired because the boss thinks that skating and singing don't mix. Crawford and Stewart marry, and Ayers, feeling like a fifth wheel, leaves the act. Crawford finagles her way into the office of studio boss Lewis Stone and gets a contract, a new name, a glamorous image, and a breakout movie role, all in about five minutes. Stewart, upset at her success, leaves her to become a producer of ice shows. Over time, they all run into each other again, Ayers becoming a producing partner with Stewart, and eventually Crawford quits the movies to be with her man. One problem here is that Stewart and Ayers (pictured in their simply charming ice-skating outfits) have more chemistry together that Stewart and Crawford. Another problem is the predictability of the stupid male-pride plot; as soon as Crawford leaves the studio boss's office, you know she'll have to give up her career in the end. Lionel Stander has a small role as an agent. The various musical bits are OK, but unless you're an ice follies freak, there's no reason to sit though this. [TCM]
Saturday, February 14, 2009
THE CLOCK (1945)
For Valentine's Day, I thought I'd revisit a romantic classic I'd seen only once before, many years ago. In my memory, THE CLOCK was a sweet, whimsical, comic romance about two lonely people who meet cute, share a whirlwind big-city weekend during which they fall in love, then go through some amusing shenanigans trying to get married before he has to go back to war. Sadly, like many things about past romances, my rose-colored memories of this movie proved to be a bit faulty. Robert Walker is a young and innocent farm boy turned solider who is in New York City on a 2-day leave. Killing time among the crowds at Penn Station, he accidentally trips young working girl Judy Garland, who loses the heel of her shoe. They chat each other up and Garland, realizing how lonely Walker is, agrees to spend the day sightseeing with him. The needy Walker practically begs her to meet him for dinner that evening, even though she has a date with her boyfriend; at the last minute, she breaks the date and meets the soldier. Late that night, strolling the streets because they've missed her last bus, the two wind up accompanying a friendly milkman on his route, even finishing his deliveries for him when he's injured by a belligerent drunk. They decide rather impulsively to get married (the wartime context helps explain the rush), and spend the next day in a sad little comedy of errors trying to get through all the red tape before he has to ship out the next morning.
Though the plot is a bit cliché, this film does feel surprisingly modern at times, primarily in its attempt at fleshing out the small-scale romance with some quirky supporting characters and situations. The middle of the film, the nighttime milk run sequence, is the high point, with the always welcome James Gleason (who would play a similar role as the sweet-natured taxi driver in THE BISHOP’S WIFE) adding some much needed humor and whimsy to what is, despite its romantic-comedy framework, not a very funny movie. Early in the film, Ruth Brady and Marshall Thompson provide some amusement as Garland's more worldly roommate, who warns her away from fooling around with servicemen, and her cute but passive boyfriend. The last half-hour, in which they are accidentally parted, meet again (at Penn Station), and desperately try to get married, is an almost total downer. One problem is that neither of their characters is fully developed: Walker, though charming, remains a stereotype of a rural American lad (one remove from being a hick); Garland gets even less background--I think the filmmakers rely on us knowing Judy Garland's movie persona (mostly at the time as Andy Hardy's gal pal) rather than giving her much of a backstory, or even a personality. Though primarily filmed on Hollywood sets, the city does come to life as almost a third central character; the detailed Penn Station set is particularly impressive. When I first saw this back in the mid-90's, I was charmed, but now I find it a strangely unengaging affair which, at only 90 minutes, feels too long. Ah, the folly of looking back... [TCM]
For Valentine's Day, I thought I'd revisit a romantic classic I'd seen only once before, many years ago. In my memory, THE CLOCK was a sweet, whimsical, comic romance about two lonely people who meet cute, share a whirlwind big-city weekend during which they fall in love, then go through some amusing shenanigans trying to get married before he has to go back to war. Sadly, like many things about past romances, my rose-colored memories of this movie proved to be a bit faulty. Robert Walker is a young and innocent farm boy turned solider who is in New York City on a 2-day leave. Killing time among the crowds at Penn Station, he accidentally trips young working girl Judy Garland, who loses the heel of her shoe. They chat each other up and Garland, realizing how lonely Walker is, agrees to spend the day sightseeing with him. The needy Walker practically begs her to meet him for dinner that evening, even though she has a date with her boyfriend; at the last minute, she breaks the date and meets the soldier. Late that night, strolling the streets because they've missed her last bus, the two wind up accompanying a friendly milkman on his route, even finishing his deliveries for him when he's injured by a belligerent drunk. They decide rather impulsively to get married (the wartime context helps explain the rush), and spend the next day in a sad little comedy of errors trying to get through all the red tape before he has to ship out the next morning.
Though the plot is a bit cliché, this film does feel surprisingly modern at times, primarily in its attempt at fleshing out the small-scale romance with some quirky supporting characters and situations. The middle of the film, the nighttime milk run sequence, is the high point, with the always welcome James Gleason (who would play a similar role as the sweet-natured taxi driver in THE BISHOP’S WIFE) adding some much needed humor and whimsy to what is, despite its romantic-comedy framework, not a very funny movie. Early in the film, Ruth Brady and Marshall Thompson provide some amusement as Garland's more worldly roommate, who warns her away from fooling around with servicemen, and her cute but passive boyfriend. The last half-hour, in which they are accidentally parted, meet again (at Penn Station), and desperately try to get married, is an almost total downer. One problem is that neither of their characters is fully developed: Walker, though charming, remains a stereotype of a rural American lad (one remove from being a hick); Garland gets even less background--I think the filmmakers rely on us knowing Judy Garland's movie persona (mostly at the time as Andy Hardy's gal pal) rather than giving her much of a backstory, or even a personality. Though primarily filmed on Hollywood sets, the city does come to life as almost a third central character; the detailed Penn Station set is particularly impressive. When I first saw this back in the mid-90's, I was charmed, but now I find it a strangely unengaging affair which, at only 90 minutes, feels too long. Ah, the folly of looking back... [TCM]
Thursday, February 12, 2009
THERE'S ALWAYS A WOMAN (1938)
A mild screwball comedy in the Thin Man vein; not bad considering it's missing the Thin Man's best assets, William Powell and Myrna Loy. Here, Melvyn Douglas is a DA's assistant who has quit his job to start his own detective agency, though as the film begins, he is in the process of throwing out his secretary (Rita Hayworth with about a line and a half of dialogue) and giving up the failing business. His wife, Joan Blondell, decides to make a go of it herself (behind his back) when Mary Astor, a high society wife, comes in with a case: she wants a family friend followed because she may be carrying on with Astor's husband despite having her own fiancé. Blondell (accompanied by her clueless husband) goes to the Skyline Club that night to observe the group. After some slapstick shenanigans at the club, which involve club owner and notorious gambler Jerome Cowan, Astor’s husband winds up dead, Douglas finds out what his wife is up to, and the two spend the rest of the film working with and against each other trying to find the villain. A few more tangled relationships (and one more corpse) come to light before everything is cleared up. Blondell (pictured at left) is better than her material here, and pretty much is the main reason for watching, though oddly she did not appear in next year's sequel, THERE'S THAT WOMAN AGAIN. In addition to the nightclub scene, another highlight of the film is the police grilling of Blondell, who stands up to hours of good cop/bad cop posturing, bright lights in the face, and a deliberately annoying squeak in a chair better than the police do. Douglas is his usual bland self, not bad but not memorable; Astor, a couple of years before she would revive her career with MALTESE FALCON, has another thankless society wife role. The solution to the mystery, as in the Thin Man films, is easy to guess and relatively unimportant, so how much you will enjoy this depends on your tolerance for B-level screwball battle-of-the-sexes humor. Virginia Bruce took Blondell's role in the sequel and, though I usually like her, I find it hard to believe that she could have topped Blondell. [TCM]
A mild screwball comedy in the Thin Man vein; not bad considering it's missing the Thin Man's best assets, William Powell and Myrna Loy. Here, Melvyn Douglas is a DA's assistant who has quit his job to start his own detective agency, though as the film begins, he is in the process of throwing out his secretary (Rita Hayworth with about a line and a half of dialogue) and giving up the failing business. His wife, Joan Blondell, decides to make a go of it herself (behind his back) when Mary Astor, a high society wife, comes in with a case: she wants a family friend followed because she may be carrying on with Astor's husband despite having her own fiancé. Blondell (accompanied by her clueless husband) goes to the Skyline Club that night to observe the group. After some slapstick shenanigans at the club, which involve club owner and notorious gambler Jerome Cowan, Astor’s husband winds up dead, Douglas finds out what his wife is up to, and the two spend the rest of the film working with and against each other trying to find the villain. A few more tangled relationships (and one more corpse) come to light before everything is cleared up. Blondell (pictured at left) is better than her material here, and pretty much is the main reason for watching, though oddly she did not appear in next year's sequel, THERE'S THAT WOMAN AGAIN. In addition to the nightclub scene, another highlight of the film is the police grilling of Blondell, who stands up to hours of good cop/bad cop posturing, bright lights in the face, and a deliberately annoying squeak in a chair better than the police do. Douglas is his usual bland self, not bad but not memorable; Astor, a couple of years before she would revive her career with MALTESE FALCON, has another thankless society wife role. The solution to the mystery, as in the Thin Man films, is easy to guess and relatively unimportant, so how much you will enjoy this depends on your tolerance for B-level screwball battle-of-the-sexes humor. Virginia Bruce took Blondell's role in the sequel and, though I usually like her, I find it hard to believe that she could have topped Blondell. [TCM]
Sunday, February 08, 2009
THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO (1934)
A version of the much-adapted adventure story by Dumas; far too much plot has been crammed into a two-hour running time, but everything moves along quickly. In 1815, Edmund Dantes (Robert Donat) is a young sailor who innocently winds up in the middle of a plot to bring the exiled Napoleon back to France from Elba. Villefort (Louis Calhern) sends Dantes off to lifetime imprisonment without a trial, covering up for his own father who was the real villain. In the island prison of Chateau d'If, Dantes wastes away for eight years until he is befriended by the Abbe Faria (O.P. Heggie) who has been slowly but steadily digging an escape route to the sea. After eight more years of work, Dantes finally manages to get off the island; the Abbe dies first, but leaves Dantes instruction for finding a hidden treasure on the island of Monte Cristo. With this money, Dantes spends a few more years plotting an elaborate revenge against Villefort and his collaborators, the traitorous sailor Danglars (Raymond Walburn) and the aristocrat Mondego (Sidney Blackmer), who has since married Dantes' former sweetheart (Elissa Landi). There is a rather startling suicide scene which I'm surprised got past the newly-enforced Production Code, a swordfight, a duel, and a well-staged climax in a courtroom.
I've never read the book--and at this stage in my life, I'm not likely to--but most critics say this is a solid adaptation, though it leaves out major plotlines. As it is, plot points in the last half go whizzing by too quickly, but the story never becomes hard to follow. I'm not a big fan of Donat but his placid demeanor works here, giving his moments of flash more impact. Landi is given little to do, but the rest of the cast is excellent, not just the three villains but also Heggie as the wise and almost ethereral Abbe, Georgia Caine as Landi's mother, and Luis Alberni and Clarence Muse as Donat's assistants in revenge. The story's reputation as a "swashbuckler" doesn’t quite seem deserved, as there is very little swordsmanship on display, but once we get past the exposition of the opening, which has to do with the French politics of the day, the movie moves along quite nicely and never stops. This film has apparently been mostly seen lately in a chopped-down and colorized 90-minute version, but the complete black-and-white 113-minute film has aired on Turner Classic. The print is not in perfect shape, but it's worth catching. [TCM]
A version of the much-adapted adventure story by Dumas; far too much plot has been crammed into a two-hour running time, but everything moves along quickly. In 1815, Edmund Dantes (Robert Donat) is a young sailor who innocently winds up in the middle of a plot to bring the exiled Napoleon back to France from Elba. Villefort (Louis Calhern) sends Dantes off to lifetime imprisonment without a trial, covering up for his own father who was the real villain. In the island prison of Chateau d'If, Dantes wastes away for eight years until he is befriended by the Abbe Faria (O.P. Heggie) who has been slowly but steadily digging an escape route to the sea. After eight more years of work, Dantes finally manages to get off the island; the Abbe dies first, but leaves Dantes instruction for finding a hidden treasure on the island of Monte Cristo. With this money, Dantes spends a few more years plotting an elaborate revenge against Villefort and his collaborators, the traitorous sailor Danglars (Raymond Walburn) and the aristocrat Mondego (Sidney Blackmer), who has since married Dantes' former sweetheart (Elissa Landi). There is a rather startling suicide scene which I'm surprised got past the newly-enforced Production Code, a swordfight, a duel, and a well-staged climax in a courtroom.I've never read the book--and at this stage in my life, I'm not likely to--but most critics say this is a solid adaptation, though it leaves out major plotlines. As it is, plot points in the last half go whizzing by too quickly, but the story never becomes hard to follow. I'm not a big fan of Donat but his placid demeanor works here, giving his moments of flash more impact. Landi is given little to do, but the rest of the cast is excellent, not just the three villains but also Heggie as the wise and almost ethereral Abbe, Georgia Caine as Landi's mother, and Luis Alberni and Clarence Muse as Donat's assistants in revenge. The story's reputation as a "swashbuckler" doesn’t quite seem deserved, as there is very little swordsmanship on display, but once we get past the exposition of the opening, which has to do with the French politics of the day, the movie moves along quite nicely and never stops. This film has apparently been mostly seen lately in a chopped-down and colorized 90-minute version, but the complete black-and-white 113-minute film has aired on Turner Classic. The print is not in perfect shape, but it's worth catching. [TCM]
Thursday, February 05, 2009
THE GIRL MOST LIKELY (1957)
My favorite movie eras are the 30's, 40's, and 60's. This movie is a perfect example of why I tend to shy away from 50's films (too much emphasis on bright color surfaces, too much artificiality, not enough risk-taking, and mediocre acting, with good actors often placed in roles that don't suit them) and yet I continue to sample them as I sometimes find subversive pleasures which were probably not part of the filmmakers' master plan. This is a musical remake of a 40's romantic comedy called TOM, DICK AND HARRY starring Ginger Rogers (which I have not seen). Jane Powell is a dreamy young working girl who still lives with her parents, loves romantic movies, and yearns for the good life with a rich husband—her first song, sung in her bedroom, reminds me a bit of Ann-Margret's "How Lovely to Be a Woman" in BYE BYE BIRDIE. Her unambitious, stable, steady, stick-in-the-mud boyfriend is realtor Tommy Noonan; at a nighttime beach party, he sets up lounge chairs for the two of them amongst the teeming masses of couples on the sand who are making out like crazy. She rather passively accepts his proposal of marriage, but the next day, on a crazy impulse, she jumps into the water off a ferry boat, hoping to be "saved" by the owner of a nearby yacht. Instead, it's boat repairman Cliff Robertson who picks her up. He's handsome, hunky, and down to earth, and they hit it off well, but the problem is that money is not his main concern in life. Still, she becomes engaged to him without mentioning Noonan. Later, she manages to meet the real yacht owner (Keith Andes) who seems to be the answer to her dreams, and gets engaged to him. Naturally, the three find out about each other and soon she has to choose the one most likely to make her happy.
The plot has promise, as does the gimmick that we see her whimsical (and musical) imaginings of what life would be like with each one. The production numbers are well executed with choreography by Gower Champion, but the songs themselves, despite some clever lyrics, are unmemorable. The pacing is absolutely leaden in the first half, though things do pick up a bit later. Powell is a problem: she's pretty and peppy, and sings and dances fine, but she was almost 30 and looks it, and the character seems like she should be quite a bit younger. Kaye Ballard is fun as her best friend, and Frank Cady (Sam Drucker on "Green Acres") and Una Merkel play Powell's parents. A cute dancer named Kelly Brown plays Ballard's boyfriend (in real life, Brown was the father of dancer Leslie Browne who was nominated for an Oscar for THE TURNING POINT). The movie's saving grace is how darn gay it seems. Noonan, passive if not quite an obvious sissy, exclaims, when Powell says yes to his proposal, "You've made me the happiest girl in the world!" One number (I think it's called "Balboa") is full of shirtless men in short swim trunks, showing lots more skin than the women do. A Mexican-themed dance features Andes and Brown acting a tad swishy, and when Robertson goes to Noonan's place of work to check out his competition, the scene plays out like a not-so-subtle gay pick-up. Without these little delights, I'm not sure I would have stayed with the film until the end. [TCM]
My favorite movie eras are the 30's, 40's, and 60's. This movie is a perfect example of why I tend to shy away from 50's films (too much emphasis on bright color surfaces, too much artificiality, not enough risk-taking, and mediocre acting, with good actors often placed in roles that don't suit them) and yet I continue to sample them as I sometimes find subversive pleasures which were probably not part of the filmmakers' master plan. This is a musical remake of a 40's romantic comedy called TOM, DICK AND HARRY starring Ginger Rogers (which I have not seen). Jane Powell is a dreamy young working girl who still lives with her parents, loves romantic movies, and yearns for the good life with a rich husband—her first song, sung in her bedroom, reminds me a bit of Ann-Margret's "How Lovely to Be a Woman" in BYE BYE BIRDIE. Her unambitious, stable, steady, stick-in-the-mud boyfriend is realtor Tommy Noonan; at a nighttime beach party, he sets up lounge chairs for the two of them amongst the teeming masses of couples on the sand who are making out like crazy. She rather passively accepts his proposal of marriage, but the next day, on a crazy impulse, she jumps into the water off a ferry boat, hoping to be "saved" by the owner of a nearby yacht. Instead, it's boat repairman Cliff Robertson who picks her up. He's handsome, hunky, and down to earth, and they hit it off well, but the problem is that money is not his main concern in life. Still, she becomes engaged to him without mentioning Noonan. Later, she manages to meet the real yacht owner (Keith Andes) who seems to be the answer to her dreams, and gets engaged to him. Naturally, the three find out about each other and soon she has to choose the one most likely to make her happy.
The plot has promise, as does the gimmick that we see her whimsical (and musical) imaginings of what life would be like with each one. The production numbers are well executed with choreography by Gower Champion, but the songs themselves, despite some clever lyrics, are unmemorable. The pacing is absolutely leaden in the first half, though things do pick up a bit later. Powell is a problem: she's pretty and peppy, and sings and dances fine, but she was almost 30 and looks it, and the character seems like she should be quite a bit younger. Kaye Ballard is fun as her best friend, and Frank Cady (Sam Drucker on "Green Acres") and Una Merkel play Powell's parents. A cute dancer named Kelly Brown plays Ballard's boyfriend (in real life, Brown was the father of dancer Leslie Browne who was nominated for an Oscar for THE TURNING POINT). The movie's saving grace is how darn gay it seems. Noonan, passive if not quite an obvious sissy, exclaims, when Powell says yes to his proposal, "You've made me the happiest girl in the world!" One number (I think it's called "Balboa") is full of shirtless men in short swim trunks, showing lots more skin than the women do. A Mexican-themed dance features Andes and Brown acting a tad swishy, and when Robertson goes to Noonan's place of work to check out his competition, the scene plays out like a not-so-subtle gay pick-up. Without these little delights, I'm not sure I would have stayed with the film until the end. [TCM]
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