KISS AND MAKE UP (1934)

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

SINNERS IN PARADISE (1938)

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

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

PYRO (1964)

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

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

WINGS IN THE DARK (1935)

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

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

RETURN OF THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL (1938)

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

THE HORN BLOWS AT MIDNIGHT (1945)

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

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

THE TANKS ARE COMING (1951)

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

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

BLIND ADVENTURE (1933)

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

THE LOVERS (1958)

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

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

CAUGHT (1949)

Working class girl Leonora (Barbara Bel Geddes) dreams of marrying a rich man and living in comfort. She goes to charm school where she learns how to act in social situations, how to make conversation, and generally how to be charming. After she gets a job as a department store model, she is approached by a slimy fellow named Franzi (Curt Bois) who is on the prowl for good-time girls for his boss, millionaire Smith Ohlrig (Robert Ryan). She is invited to a party on Ohlrig's yacht and hits it off with him, though we are privy to sessions with his psychiatrist in which we learn that Ohlrig has anxiety attacks he gets whenever he doesn’t get his way. He is full of self-pity, wants to destroy anyone who gets in his way, and believes that no one would love him except for his money. After a whirlwind courtship, the two marry but she quickly becomes bored and restless when Ohlrig constantly puts business first, ignoring and humiliating her, leaving her alone every evening with only the company of Franzi (coded gay because he flits instead of walks and calls everyone, women and men, "darlings"). Soon she leaves him, rents a shabby little apartment, and gets a job as a receptionist for the handsome Dr. Quinada (James Mason). He falls for her but she disappears one night to go back and give Ohlrig one more chance. They sleep together but it doesn't last and she returns to Quinada, but soon discovers she is pregnant by Ohlrig. Her husband agrees to give her a divorce but only if she gives him sole custody of the child. Leonora indeed finds herself "caught."

Director Max Ophuls uses gliding camerawork and noir shadows to give this melodrama some visual interest—there are occasional stylistic echoes of CITIZEN KANE. The character of Ohlrig is based on Howard Hughes, and Ryan gives a very good performance, capturing the neurotic darkness of the character. Even though he is the villain, he is the only character I really cared about here. Bel Geddes is fine, but I never felt there was much there beneath the unthinking desire for comfort and money. Mason is also good, but he hasn’t much to do until a confrontation scene between the three near the end. A movie with a pessimistic view of people and their motives in establishing relationships, marred a bit by an unrealistically pat and happy ending. [TCM]

TARZAN’S PERIL (1951)

Commissioners Peters (retiring) and Connors (his replacement) watch the coronation of Melmendi, new queen of the Ashuba tribe. Peters is proud of having kept gin and guns out the hands of the natives, but there are problems on the horizon: Bulam, a rival tribe's king, wants to marry Melmendi but she refuses him, and there are gunrunners sniffing around, notably escaped prisoner Radijeck and his buddies. Tarzan hears about Radijeck's presence from his animal pals and warns the commissioners, but Peters and Connors are both caught off guard and killed by the gunrunners. Bulam is buying guns from Radijeck in order to wage war on the Ashuba, and Melmendi is kidnapped, leaving Tarzan to single-handedly save the day, which he does, climaxing in a brutal knife fight with Bulam. But even after the queen and her people are saved, there’s trouble: Radijeck finds Jane and holds her at gunpoint. Can Tarzan save the day twice in one day?

For Lex Barker's third round as Tarzan, coming after TARZAN AND THE SLAVE GIRL, a substantial amount of the film was actually shot in Africa, though it's difficult to say what, as we still get the soundstage treehouse and vine-swinging scenes. Barker is fine, but the new Jane (Virginia Huston) is not; with an oddly kicky hairdo, she looks like a suburban mom , or like Jane Wyatt doing a pilot episode of Tarzan Knows Best. George Macready (the bad guy from GILDA) is good as Radijeck, as are Douglas Fowley and Glenn Anders as his cohorts; a little echo of TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE can be sensed in the plotline involving the bad guys' bad behavior toward each other. The legendary Dorothy Dandridge, who later played Bess in the film of Porgy and Bess, is wasted as the queen, but it's nice to see her as she only appeared in a handful of film roles in her career. Alan Napier (Adam West's Alfred in Batman) is Peters. The first half is a little slow with too much exposition trotted out in long dialogue scenes, but the action picks up nicely in the last half. [TCM]

I’LL GET BY (1950)

William Lundigan is a song plugger who has written his own song that his boss won't publish; when he's assigned to deliver a record of the new hit "Chattanooga Choo Choo" to a radio station, he accidentally breaks it and instead tries to palm off a copy of his song on DJ Steve Allen. The ploy doesn’t work and Lundigan is fired so he starts his own song publishing company and Texan Dennis Day sells him "Deep in the Heart of Texas." It doesn’t sell either, but the two become partners and soon Greenwich Village pianist Danny Davenport sells them a song called "I'll Get By." When a sister act (June Haver and Gloria DeHaven) who sing with Harry James' orchestra records it, it becomes a hit. Lundigan and Day become successful and date the sisters, though a misunderstanding over who gets to sing a newly discovered Gershwin song leads to a falling-out between Lundigan and Haver. The boys get drafted, the girls sign up to do USO shows, and just as Lundigan and Day are about to be shipped overseas, Haver forgives Lundigan—and the Germans surrender on the same day.

This Fox musical is a remake of the earlier TIN PAN ALLEY with John Payne and Alice Faye. Both movies use real songs from an era (the first film from the teens, this film from the 30s & 40s) in the service of a fictional story. We get to hear songs like "Taking a Chance on Love," "McNamara's Band," and "I've Got the World on a String," and indeed the musical numbers are the best moments in the otherwise bland and predictable film. I like Lundigan, but he's not called upon to do much here. The Irish tenor Day, known for his radio and TV work as sidekick to Jack Benny, comes off much better since his character is allowed to have a personality. Thelma Ritter has a supporting role as a secretary, and there are cameos from Reginald Gardiner, Dan Dailey, and Jeanne Crain, all of whom play themselves. The Gershwin song that Haver loses to Crain, "Yankee Doodle Blues," is absolutely ridiculous, but most of the other tunes are fine. [FMC]

THE CHAPMAN REPORT (1962)

A group of sex researchers (the chief is named Chapman, but think Kinsey) arrive in a California town to conduct anonymous interviews with women about their sex lives. That framework is the excuse to present in-depth stories of the sex lives of four of the women, told in bits and pieces throughout the film. The main plotline involves the widow of a war hero (Jane Fonda) who is working on editing the manuscript of the memoir he left behind. Her little secret is that she is frigid; she never consummated her relationship with her late husband. While being interviewed (by Efrem Zimbalist Jr., behind a screen to ensure privacy), she breaks down and leaves in tears, accidentally leaving her purse behind. Zimbalist, intrigued, ignores medical ethics and takes the purse to her house. At first, Fonda is angry, but she slowly warms up to him, and when the two begin dating, Zimbalist tries to get to the root of her problem. Is it because she's a prude? Or does it have to do with her domineering father?

The other stories: Claire Bloom plays a young divorcee who is a nymphomaniac; when her husband discovered her affairs, he broke down and cried, though Zimbalist theorizes that she really wanted to be punished. When she somewhat reluctantly hooks up with a sexy jazz musician (Corey Allen), she spirals further down into self-destructive degradation. Shelley Winters is a housewife who has an affair with a community theater director (Ray Danton, pictured at left with Winters); to her, he's worth leaving her husband for, but to him, she's just a fling. Finally, for comic relief, Glynis Johns, a flighty high society matron, is titillated by a young hunk (Ty Hardin) she sees horsing around with his pals on the beach. Her attempts at seduction go over his dumb-jock head until she talks him into posing naked for her. In the end, the heavy-handed message from the sexologists is "statistics don’t make morality" and the only cure for what ails you is love.

This was probably hot stuff in its day and though it's TV-tame now (you don't hear terms like "frigid" and "nymphomania" much these days, let alone get scandalized by them), there are still some nice frissons to be had for today's viewers. To their credit, the actors throw themselves into their roles, with mixed results. Bloom comes off best as a smoldering but depressed woman trapped by her feelings, and Johns is delightful in her light comic turn. Winters mostly underdoes her part (except when she doesn't) and the time we spend with her character seems interminable. Fonda fares the worst, going cringingly over the top every chance she gets—this may be the director’s fault; classic-era director George Cukor was at the helm, and though this style worked for comic performers like Rosalind Russell in THE WOMEN and Katherine Hepburn in THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, it makes Fonda's character laughable. For me, the most interesting aspect of the movie is that men are made to be the object of the sexual gaze of the female, a rarity in films back then (and even fairly rare today), so we see hunky men like Hardin (above, shirtless throughout, with Johns), Danton and Allen sexualized to a degree that was rare back then. Zimbalist suffers a bit, playing a cross between a stuffed shirt and a knight in shining armor, and seeming a bit at sea. [TCM]

VOICE IN THE WIND (1944)

During World War II, we are told in voiceover, refugees were trying escaping the "medieval darkness" of Europe. Some made it to America, some didn't. Many refugees were dumped on the Caribbean island of Guadalupe, and one is the brooding, mute stranger known as El Hombre. When he gets drunk, he plays piano, quite beautifully. Unfortunately, he's also gone a little crazy and one night, after reading a notice about "murder boats," operations that promise to take desperate refugees away but actually take their money and kill them, he goes out and sets fire to the boat of his friends Angelo and Luigi, legitimate sailors who brought him to the island in the first place. Angelo tries to be understanding, but Luigi is out for blood. Meanwhile, across the street from El Hombre's shabby apartment lies a young woman, Marya, dying of pneumonia, and her caretakers Dr. Hoffman and Anna. When they hear the piano music of El Hombre, it reminds them of Marya's husband, a concert pianist named Jan Volny who has disappeared. Of course, a long flashback shows us that El Hombre is Jan Volny. At a concert in Prague after the Nazi invasion, Volny plays Smetana's "The Moldau," a much-loved nationalistic piece, in direct defiance of Nazi orders. He makes plans to leave the country that night and to meet his wife in Paris later, but the Gestapo snags him and in the middle of an interrogation, the Nazi von Neubach smashes a lamp against Volny's head, leaving him with a serious brain injury. Still, while being transported to a concentration camp, Volny manages to escape and is taken in by Luigi and Marco and taken to Guadalupe, with no memory of who he is. Back in the present, the question is, will Jan and Marya, right across the street from each other, ever see each other again?

[Spoiler!] I fully expected a teary deathbed reunion, but no such luck: Marya recognizes his playing and heads out to find him, but she collapses in the street and dies before he finds her. The gloomy ending is perfectly in tune with the mood of the movie, which is grim from the get-go. The direction, slow and stately by Arthur Ripley, and the shadowy cinematography give the movie its intense feel, which is a plus, but the pace of the narrative is slow and the two main characters aren't fleshed out very well, despite good performances from Francis Lederer (pictured) and Sigrid Gurie (who at times resembles Vivian Leigh). Actually, it's the sailor brothers who steal their scenes—Alexander Granach as the nice one (Angelo) and the great character actor J. Carroll Naish as the mean one (Luigi)—and the two of them play an important part at the climax. Another fine character actor who goes by the initial "J," J. Edward Bromberg, plays the doctor. Someone named Howard Johnson is credited as Capt. von Neubach, who I assume is the Gestapo interrogator and he's quite good in his small role. As a mood piece, this film works well, but it's not for action fans or romantics who want easy redemption. [TCM]

TWO AGAINST THE WORLD (1936)

Radio network UBC calls itself "The Voice of the People" and owner Reynolds wants Scott, his manager (Humphrey Bogart), to lighten up on his higher aspirations for programming (like operas) and go back to UBC's old muckraking style. They decide to air a radio serial based on a 15-year-old scandal involving Gloria Pembroke's murder of her husband. She was acquitted based on self-defense, but Reynolds thinks the whole unsavory stew will be a ratings grabber. Scott disagrees but is forced to go along with it. They discover that Pembroke is now Mrs. Carstairs, with a young daughter, Edith, about to get married to Malcolm, a rich young man, and they send writer named Leavenworth to their apartment to get some info. The Carstairs find out about the coming show and try to stop it—they’ve never told Edith about the case—but they mistake Leavenworth for a minister's assistant and spill all the beans about their current situation to him, leading to further unwanted publicity. Malcolm's parents demand that the Carstairs stop the wedding; instead, the Carstairs kill themselves. The grief-stricken Edith heads down to UBC headquarters with a gun to confront Reynolds and Scott.

This is a B-movie remake of 1931's FIVE STAR FINAL which featured Edward G. Robinson as the Bogart character. The earlier film, an Oscar nominee for best picture, was set at a newspaper but the two are essentially identical as far as plot, characters, and outcome. The first film is better, but this one, a half-hour shorter, isn't bad. It's fun to see a pre-superstar Bogart in a different kind of role; he's the main character though he doesn't get much more screen time than anyone else. He does simmering moral outrage fairly well—the character is against the radio serial and lets everyone know but isn't brave enough to take a strong stand until after the double suicide. Beverly Roberts, as a secretary who sides with Bogart, is given star billing but has little to do. The real acting honors here go to Helen MacKellar and Henry O'Neill as the Carstairs who go through a full range of emotions, from happiness at their daughter's upcoming wedding, to sadness that she might find out about her mother's past, to outrage, and finally to resignation that they can't stop UBC. Harry Hayden is also good as the slimy radio writer. The lovely Claire Dodd has a small part. This airs on TCM under its alternate title ONE FATAL HOUR. [TCM]

THE LION HAS WINGS (1939)

This is a quickly-made WWII propaganda piece from Alexander Korda; it is technically a fictional narrative film, but most of its 76 minutes are taken up with narrated newsreel and stock footage (including quick shots from earlier Korda films, including Flora Robson as Queen Elizabeth from FIRE OVER ENGLAND) about noble England and how the Royal Air Force is carrying on the grand tradition of defending the Empire. Of course, that the was the whole point of the film, made in one month, September 1939, the month when England and Germany went to war, and I'm sure the film was effective enough in its day and with its audience. But it hasn't worn well over the years, certainly not as well as the Frank Capra "Why We Fight" propaganda films which were straightforward documentaries that didn’t have to fuss with a plot and characters. There is almost a half-hour of narrated glorification of the RAF (and, rather defensively, the masculinity of British men who were not, in case you thought so, a bunch of unathletic sissies) before we get into a storyline involving a wing commander (Ralph Richardson), his wife (Merle Oberon), their Canadian relative (an RAF pilot) and his girlfriend. Nothing really happens to these people except they are happy, outraged, confident, and brave as the circumstances dictate. There are negative depictions of the Germans and some interesting air footage, but this was a real chore to sit through. I'd only recommend it to folks studying wartime propaganda. [TCM]

THE GIRL WHO DARED (1944)

A group of people show up one stormy night at the isolated house of the Richmonds, on an island attached to the mainstream by a causeway, invited for a ghost-hunting party. Folklore has it that years ago the island was a pirate hideaway, and one night the lighthouse malfunctioned and a boatload of pirates were killed in a wreck; supposedly a pirate ghost appears down at the wreck at midnight. Among the guests are Josh and his lovely sister Ann; the squabbling, recently divorced couple Sylvia and David; Sylvia's twin sister Cynthia; and some guy named Homer. But the guests are all surprised to find out that the Richmonds didn't actually send out the invitations; since they're all there, they make the best of it, have cocktails, and go out to see the ghost. First though, they hear a radio report that a Dr. Dexter is on the loose, having stolen some radium from a local hospital. Then they are joined by a guy named Blair, a mechanic who brought Josh and Ann over when their car broke down. We know he's not really a mechanic however, and we see him disable all the other cars so everyone will have to stay overnight. At the site of the wreck, they see a ghostly figure rise from the mist and Sylvia faints away. But she's not scared, she's dead. She's also only the first to die before the mysteries of who is who and who done what & why are solved.

This is a Republic B-thriller in the "old dark house" mode complete with ghosts and storms and secret passages, and as such, a passable entry. It's a little too obvious who's nice and who's naughty here, so the playing-out of the tangled relationships has few surprises. Peter Cookson as Blair is B-hero handsome so you know he's a good guy, and Lorna Gray (Ann) is fine as the good girl that he flirts with. Kirk Alyn, the first live-action Superman, is effective as Josh; B-film queen Veda Ann Borg has the dual role of the twin sisters. In more Superman trivia, John Hamilton (Perry White in the Superman TV series) is Richmond, and Roy Barcroft (who guested on a Superman episode) is David. Willie Best is ill-used as the scared black butler. There are plotholes best not thought about, but overall this hour-long mystery is mostly fun. [Netflix]

LAST YEAR AT MARIENBAD (1961)

This stunning looking black & white movie opens with long lovely tracking shots of the ceilings and walls and ornamentation of an elegant, sprawling, palatial hotel as a man’s spoken narrative (along the lines of “I walk on, down these corridors, in this hotel, corridor after endless corridor…”) is repeated five times. Eventually we see an audience of well-dressed, wealthy people gathered in a hotel auditorium watching a play (to which the narration may or may not belong). We hear snatches of conversation, people walking about and sometimes freezing in place. A plot seems to be introduced: Giorgio Albertazzi approaches the lovely but distant Delphine Seyrig (pictured below) and mentions having met her last year at a similar hotel in Frederiksbad or Marienbad or somewhere, and engaging in an affair with her. She claims not to remember, then does, then doesn’t. He spins different versions of their meeting and we eventually see what might be flashbacks (or fantasies or alternate timelines). We also meet Sascha Pitoeff, a gaunt man in a dark suit, apparently the woman’s husband, who figures in some of the flashbacks. There may have been a rape, or a violent attack by Pitoeff, or no contact at all. Albertazzi and Seyrig wander around the hotel grounds and its starkly beautiful gardens with perfectly triangular hedges and large marble statues. Often the dialogue or narration does not match up with what’s happening on screen. In the end, Seyrig agrees to go off with Albertazzi, but they simply blend in with the crowd in the garden (as in The Prisoner, perhaps, no one gets out of the Village).

This is indeed beautiful to behold: the stark sets, the slow tracking and swirling of the camera, the beautiful but empty people posing against beautiful but empty backgrounds—if you’ve seen Calvin Klein ads from the past 20 years, or in fact any number of high fashion ad campaigns, you’ve seen something influenced by this film, directed by Alain Resnais and written by French novelist Alain Robbe-Grillet. In its time, the movie was controversial, mostly met with disdain by filmgoers not used to fragmented and inconclusive narratives (though readers of Virginia Woolf or James Joyce or Gertrude Stein would not have been quite so confused). Now, with Kubrick’s languorous pacing, David Lynch’s ambiguous and dreamlike stylings, and even the alternate narratives of TV’s Lost, current-day viewers won’t be caught quite so off-guard. Still, it’s not for everyone’s taste. The only excitement here is mental. If you can put up with a movie that plays out like a game with few rules and no conclusion, this might be for you. And if you can’t, then just turn the sound off and enjoy the absolutely gorgeous camerawork. [DVD]

FLIGHT (1929)

Lefty (Ralph Graves) is a college football player who becomes infamous for losing a game by running the wrong the way down the field. After the game, Panama (Jack Holt), a marine sergeant, befriends him (in a men's room!) and soon Lefty has joined the Marines, Panama is his flight teacher, and both men fall in love with a nurse (Lila Lee). Lefty shows promise, but on his first solo flight, he freezes up and can't get his plane off the ground so he's grounded. When the Marines are called into Nicaragua to deal with some murderous bandits, Panama takes Lefty along as his mechanic, and when Lee shows up, the two men fight over her. During a raid on the bandits, the plane Lefty's riding on doesn’t return to the base, and Panama, despite his anger, flies out into dangerous territory to find him. In the rescue, Panama is wounded; will Lefty be able to overcome his fear and fly himself and Panama out of peril?

This very early Frank Capra sound film has a plot that, if it wasn’t cliché at this point (military buddies who become romantic rivals), soon would be, especially during the first rush of patriotic WWII films. Capra's style is energetic but erratic, with some awkwardly shot scenes (even a couple out of focus) which probably should have been re-shot--though they do give the film a certain rough-edged appeal. With a plot like this, the chemistry between the lead actors is important, and though Lee is a zero, Holt and Graves (who co-wrote the screenplay with Capra) are good. There's an odd scene with an improvised feel in which, during a mock fight in their tent, Holt flips Graves over and spanks him. Between that and the men meeting cute in a bathroom, I'd like to give this a gay reading, but I'm not sure it would hold up. There is some good aerial footage, and some bad use of miniatures (and a surprising line of vulgar dialogue: "Cut the crap!"); overall, interesting as a relic but not crucial viewing. [TCM]

THE STUDENT PRINCE IN OLD HEIDELBERG (1927)
THE STUDENT PRINCE (1954)

The aging King Karl VII of Karlsberg greets his nephew, the crown prince Karl Heinrich, a mere child who has arrived to begin the proper schooling and training for a future king. The hundreds of people lining the street to catch a glimpse of him all doff their hats in unison, and cannon shots fired in his honor scare the boy, who longs to be allowed to play with the other children outside the palace gates. His tutor, Dr, Juttner, sympathizes with the boy and helps him to have fun as he teaches him. Years later, Karl passes his exams (barely) and is sent with his tutor to study at the university in Old Heidelberg. He stays at a humble inn and falls for Kathi, the lively barmaid and favorite of all the students who congregate to drink and sing in the inn's courtyard. She tells Karl she's engaged "but not so terribly" so, and even though he has had a bride picked out for him by his uncle, the two begin a springtime affair. He also becomes good friends with some fellow students who don't know he's the crown prince. Eventually, however, his fling with "normal" life comes to an end when the old king gets sick and Karl must return to the palace. Both the King and the tutor die, and before being crowned king, Karl decides to take one last visit to Old Heidelberg where he learns that you cannot recapture the past.

This is a charming romantic comedy, despite its inevitable bittersweet ending, based on a play but better known as an operetta by Sigmund Romberg, who wrote the music to several Jeanette McDonald & Nelson Eddy musicals. The 1927 version is a silent film, so there are no songs, though you can see where they would fit—and indeed there is one song "sung" by Norma Shearer, as Kathi, with its lyrics presented on title cards. The wonderful score for the version shown on Turner Classic by Carl Davis makes up for the lack of songs. Shearer is delightful as the barmaid and Ramon Novarro is just as good as the prince, torn between his love for Shearer and the student life, and his duty to become king. Jean Hersholt is fine as the friendly tutor. Ernst Lubitsch directs with a light touch and adds several stylish flourishes, the best being a lovely scene between Novarro and Shearer in a windy starlit meadow. With the high spirits and good performances, one doesn't miss spoken dialogue at all.

The 50s version is a color musical with most of the Romberg music, but somehow it's not as fun as the silent film. The entire segment with the prince as a child is missing here, and there's a silly rivalry between two of the student groups that takes up too much screen time. The prince is played by the handsome but generally lifeless Edmund Purdom (who does a nice job lip-syncing the songs, recorded by opera singer Mario Lanza), and Kathi is Ann Blyth, who works a little too hard at being charming; they have very little chemistry. Edmund Gwenn is fine as the tutor, Louis Calhern is the old king, and S. Z. Sakall is Kathi's father, a part that has been beefed up a bit here. If you have to pick just one version, I would recommend the silent one. [TCM]