UNKNOWN ISLAND (1948)

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

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

WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS (1934)

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

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

BROADWAY (1929)

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

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

VIOLENT ROAD (1958)

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

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

FOXHOLE IN CAIRO (1960)

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

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

PAINT YOUR WAGON (1969)

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

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

THE BRIGHTON STRANGLER (1945)

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

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

THE PATHFINDER (1952)

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

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

KID MILLIONS (1934)

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

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

PSYCHE 59 (1964)

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

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

THE DEADLY AFFAIR (1967)

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

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

THE LAST OUTPOST (1935)

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

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

WHISKY GALORE! (1949)

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

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

THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN (1930)

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

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

THE VISIT (1964)

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

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

THE FLEMISH FARM (1943)

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

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

TO HELL AND BACK (1955)

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

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

SMASHING TIME (1967)

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

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

INTERNATIONAL HOUSE (1933)

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

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

DINOSAURUS! (1960)

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

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

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