THE WOMAN ON PIER 13 (1949)
aka I MARRIED A COMMUNIST
A tight, well-made noir thriller which, despite having a bad critical reputation, is well worth watching. Robert Ryan is a former dock worker in San Francisco who has worked his way up to an executive position with a shipping company. After a two-week courtship, he has married Laraine Day; they know little about each other, though she had dated union leader (and pal of Ryan's) Richard Rober. Suddenly, shady figures from Ryan's past return to pull off some blackmail: Ryan, in his youth, was a Communist and apparently was responsible for the death of a worker during a strike. Commie bigshot Thomas Gomez threatens to reveal Ryan's past unless he goes along with a scheme to foment unrest among the shipworkers and start a crippling strike. More pressure is applied by Ryan's former lover, Janis Carter, who still has a thing for him but goes after Day's young brother (John Agar), not only getting him in the sack but also slowly turning him into a Communist. Keeping all this secret from Day, Ryan agrees to help and a strike is eventually called, but when Agar is killed and Day threatened, Ryan sacrifices himself to bring the Commies down. The anti-Communist propaganda is so ludicrous it cancels itself out and the film is much more fun if you read Gomez as a more typical film noir sadistic gangster. Ryan is good and once Day has something to do (in the last 15 minutes), she's fine as well. However, the best performances come from two supporting players. William Talman is a thug killer hired by Gomez who, in a great scene, sends stoolie Paul Guilfoyle to a watery death and later goes after Day. The real find here is Janis Carter, who mostly made B-movies and retired from movies just five years later. She is excellent, showing strong A-movie potential as the icy blonde bad girl. When she's on screen, you pretty much ignore everyone else. The film is short, so we don’t get as much character development as I'd like, and the ending is quick and perfunctory, but the noirish visual elements are nicely done by director Robert Stevenson, best known for a string of live-action Disney films in the 50's and 60's (most notably MARY POPPINS). The official release title (PIER 13) doesn’t really mean anything; in this case, the more sensational title actually better describes the film. Highly recommended. [TCM]
Monday, May 30, 2005
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
THE GIRL SAID NO (1930)
Silent star William Haines made the transition to sound films with his popularity intact, but MGM kept putting him in glorified juvenile roles and, at 30, he was getting too old for these parts. Apparently, this film was a box-office hit but his career would essentially be over just three years later. Haines is a reckless playboy from a rich family; he comes home from college still a playboy, which disappoints his rich father, who tries to get him a banking job. Haines, however, is smitten with Leila Hyams, who is engaged to drab stick-in-the-mud Ralph Bushman. This doesn't stop Haines from using every obnoxious trick in the book to try to win Hyams over, basically turning into a shrill stalker. Nothing works until Haines's father dies and Haines, somewhat humbled, turns over a new leaf and proves capable of earning his own living. Still, Hyams decides to go through with her wedding to Bushman, so Haines kidnaps her moments before the ceremony and they finally wind up together. Haines isn't terrible, but he is grating and rather over-the-top, and Hyams is pretty but bland. Bushman, the son of silent star Francis X. Bushman, is good at being drab (I guess that's a compliment). Polly Moran is fun as a persnickety housekeeper, and Marie Dressler steals the show with a brief scene as a rich old lady whom Haines is trying to butter up. The scene works not only due to Dressler, but also because Haines turns down the frantic tone a couple of notches and becomes much more likeable. Worth seeing for fans of Haines or Dressler. [TCM]
Silent star William Haines made the transition to sound films with his popularity intact, but MGM kept putting him in glorified juvenile roles and, at 30, he was getting too old for these parts. Apparently, this film was a box-office hit but his career would essentially be over just three years later. Haines is a reckless playboy from a rich family; he comes home from college still a playboy, which disappoints his rich father, who tries to get him a banking job. Haines, however, is smitten with Leila Hyams, who is engaged to drab stick-in-the-mud Ralph Bushman. This doesn't stop Haines from using every obnoxious trick in the book to try to win Hyams over, basically turning into a shrill stalker. Nothing works until Haines's father dies and Haines, somewhat humbled, turns over a new leaf and proves capable of earning his own living. Still, Hyams decides to go through with her wedding to Bushman, so Haines kidnaps her moments before the ceremony and they finally wind up together. Haines isn't terrible, but he is grating and rather over-the-top, and Hyams is pretty but bland. Bushman, the son of silent star Francis X. Bushman, is good at being drab (I guess that's a compliment). Polly Moran is fun as a persnickety housekeeper, and Marie Dressler steals the show with a brief scene as a rich old lady whom Haines is trying to butter up. The scene works not only due to Dressler, but also because Haines turns down the frantic tone a couple of notches and becomes much more likeable. Worth seeing for fans of Haines or Dressler. [TCM]
Sunday, May 22, 2005
NAZARIN (1959)
God bless Turner Classic Movies for their interesting programming choices. This month, they featured Mexican cinema and spent one night on the films of Luis Bunuel. He is known for his surreal touches and his strong critiques of the clergy, particularly Catholics; this film was done in a realist mode, but does have some stinging anti-Catholic commentary. The handsome and charismatic Francisco Rabal plays the title character, an itinerant priest trying to make his life an imitation of Christ: he has few material possessions, lives on charity (and gives most of that to the poor), befriends social outcasts, and tries to help others do the right thing. Unfortunately, despite his best intentions, he is usually ineffective at best, and sometimes causes more hurt or confusion than he cures. He spends most of the movie in the company of a whore (who has committed murder) and her sister, who falls in love with him. The church and the society look down on him and he endures tests of faith which shake him but never quite break him. He is called a saint and a healer by the common folk, but winds up at the end under arrest and headed for an uncertain future. The last scene is puzzling: hungry and headed for prison, he is given a pineapple by a merchant. After looking tortured, he eats it and the film ends. I like to think this is a positive moment in that he has finally learned to truly accept charity, but who knows? I seem to have, by coincidence, watched several movies recently which I like to put under the umbrella category Bleak Black-and-White Films about Religion (see my review of Pasolini's GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. MATTHEW) and I'll write up more of them next month, as well as reviewing a couple more Bunuel films. [TCM]
God bless Turner Classic Movies for their interesting programming choices. This month, they featured Mexican cinema and spent one night on the films of Luis Bunuel. He is known for his surreal touches and his strong critiques of the clergy, particularly Catholics; this film was done in a realist mode, but does have some stinging anti-Catholic commentary. The handsome and charismatic Francisco Rabal plays the title character, an itinerant priest trying to make his life an imitation of Christ: he has few material possessions, lives on charity (and gives most of that to the poor), befriends social outcasts, and tries to help others do the right thing. Unfortunately, despite his best intentions, he is usually ineffective at best, and sometimes causes more hurt or confusion than he cures. He spends most of the movie in the company of a whore (who has committed murder) and her sister, who falls in love with him. The church and the society look down on him and he endures tests of faith which shake him but never quite break him. He is called a saint and a healer by the common folk, but winds up at the end under arrest and headed for an uncertain future. The last scene is puzzling: hungry and headed for prison, he is given a pineapple by a merchant. After looking tortured, he eats it and the film ends. I like to think this is a positive moment in that he has finally learned to truly accept charity, but who knows? I seem to have, by coincidence, watched several movies recently which I like to put under the umbrella category Bleak Black-and-White Films about Religion (see my review of Pasolini's GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. MATTHEW) and I'll write up more of them next month, as well as reviewing a couple more Bunuel films. [TCM]
Thursday, May 19, 2005
THE EMPEROR WALTZ (1948)
Charming and good-natured Bing Crosby musical, much more fun than most critics allow. Perhaps they expected too much since Billy Wilder directed and co-wrote it; it's certainly not in the same league as other Wilder romantic comedies, such as SOME LIKE IT HOT or THE APARTMENT, but as a Crosby vehicle, it works quite nicely. In an operetta-like European setting, Crosby plays an American phonograph salesman trying to get the emperor of Austria (Richard Haydn) to endorse his product (he even has his dog along to strike the famous RCA "His Master's Voice" pose). He falls in love with countess Joan Fontaine, whose scoundrel of a father (Roland Culver) is trying to curry the emperor's favor by mating Fontaine's dog with one of the royal dogs. Of course, things get sticky for both the people and the dogs before the happy ending. The colorful sets and beautiful backgrounds (with a national park in Canada doubling rather nicely for the mountains of Austria) are definite pluses, as are the performances: Fontaine is relaxed, Culver is wickedly sly, and Crosby is at the peak of his leading man appeal. The bulk of the movie is told in flashback at a huge ball the emperor is throwing (Crosby calls it a "clambake") and Lucile Watson is loads of fun as a gossipy dowager relating the ups and downs of Fontaine's romance to party guests. Another plus: some good songs, including a yodeling number that Crosby sings on a mountain pass with his own echo. A couple of relatively minor minuses: the dog stuff takes center stage for too long and the mood of frothy whimsy is eventually flattened out by the end--at 106 minutes, it's maybe 15 minutes too long. But if you're in the mood for an old-fashioned romantic musical, this will satisfy you. [DVD]
Charming and good-natured Bing Crosby musical, much more fun than most critics allow. Perhaps they expected too much since Billy Wilder directed and co-wrote it; it's certainly not in the same league as other Wilder romantic comedies, such as SOME LIKE IT HOT or THE APARTMENT, but as a Crosby vehicle, it works quite nicely. In an operetta-like European setting, Crosby plays an American phonograph salesman trying to get the emperor of Austria (Richard Haydn) to endorse his product (he even has his dog along to strike the famous RCA "His Master's Voice" pose). He falls in love with countess Joan Fontaine, whose scoundrel of a father (Roland Culver) is trying to curry the emperor's favor by mating Fontaine's dog with one of the royal dogs. Of course, things get sticky for both the people and the dogs before the happy ending. The colorful sets and beautiful backgrounds (with a national park in Canada doubling rather nicely for the mountains of Austria) are definite pluses, as are the performances: Fontaine is relaxed, Culver is wickedly sly, and Crosby is at the peak of his leading man appeal. The bulk of the movie is told in flashback at a huge ball the emperor is throwing (Crosby calls it a "clambake") and Lucile Watson is loads of fun as a gossipy dowager relating the ups and downs of Fontaine's romance to party guests. Another plus: some good songs, including a yodeling number that Crosby sings on a mountain pass with his own echo. A couple of relatively minor minuses: the dog stuff takes center stage for too long and the mood of frothy whimsy is eventually flattened out by the end--at 106 minutes, it's maybe 15 minutes too long. But if you're in the mood for an old-fashioned romantic musical, this will satisfy you. [DVD]
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
HITLER--DEAD OR ALIVE (1942)
Bizarre B-movie propaganda film, ultra cheap but watchable. Ward Bond is a gangster, just out of Alcatraz after a 10-year stretch. He and his buddies (Warren Hymer and Paul Fix) visit a scientist who is offering a million dollars to anyone who can kill Hitler or bring him to justice--his brother was killed by the Nazis and he wants personal revenge. Bond and friends go to Canada, join the Royal Canadian Air Force (the story is set before the United States officially entered the war), hijack a plane and its pilot (Bruce Edwards), and head to Germany. They are caught and wind up in Dachau (presented as essentially just a prison), and claim to be spies with an important message for Hitler. Meanwhile, the Countess von Brandt (Dorothy Tree), mistress to a Nazi colonel, takes an interest in the fliers--she turns out to be the legendary Rosebud, a Resistance worker who helps to free prisoners of the Nazis. They escape (with Fix sacrificing his life for the rest) and Tree gives them a hiding place; though she's against Bond's murder plot because of possible retaliation by the Nazis against innocent women and children, she is forced to allow them to pose as musicians who accompany her to a social date with the Fuhrer. Joining them is an old acquaintance of Hitler's who, while saving his life from an assassination attempt years ago, accidentally gave Hitler a disfiguring scare on his lip, which is the reason he wears his distinctive mustache. In the climax, Bond gets Hitler (Bob Watson), and shaves off his mustache to make sure he's got the right man and not a double; when the Nazis catch up with them, they don't recognize their cowardly leader and they shoot him dead. Bond is killed by firing squad, but Edwards and Tree escape to the States to spread the message they've learned that it's not just one man but an entire evil movement that needs to be destroyed.
The above description makes the movie sound more interesting than it really is. As a scrappy pulp-fiction anti-Nazi adventure story, Warner's DESPERATE JOURNEY with Errol Flynn is far more enjoyable. The extremely low budget leads to cheap-looking sets and a terrible music score. The actors aren't bad, especially Dorothy Tree (who got her start in talkies in a wordless role as one of Lugosi's undead brides in DRACULA), although Bond gives a weak one-note, over-the-top performance. I like him a lot in supporting parts (GONE WITH THE WIND, IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, MALTESE FALCON) but maybe he just wasn't cut out for lead roles. The tone of the movie, if not quite comic, is light, but a scene near the climax of crying children being lined up against a wall and shot feels startlingly out of place. Watson is OK as a comic-book version of Hitler, and there is something satisfying in seeing him turn squealing coward when captured by Bond. [DVD]
Bizarre B-movie propaganda film, ultra cheap but watchable. Ward Bond is a gangster, just out of Alcatraz after a 10-year stretch. He and his buddies (Warren Hymer and Paul Fix) visit a scientist who is offering a million dollars to anyone who can kill Hitler or bring him to justice--his brother was killed by the Nazis and he wants personal revenge. Bond and friends go to Canada, join the Royal Canadian Air Force (the story is set before the United States officially entered the war), hijack a plane and its pilot (Bruce Edwards), and head to Germany. They are caught and wind up in Dachau (presented as essentially just a prison), and claim to be spies with an important message for Hitler. Meanwhile, the Countess von Brandt (Dorothy Tree), mistress to a Nazi colonel, takes an interest in the fliers--she turns out to be the legendary Rosebud, a Resistance worker who helps to free prisoners of the Nazis. They escape (with Fix sacrificing his life for the rest) and Tree gives them a hiding place; though she's against Bond's murder plot because of possible retaliation by the Nazis against innocent women and children, she is forced to allow them to pose as musicians who accompany her to a social date with the Fuhrer. Joining them is an old acquaintance of Hitler's who, while saving his life from an assassination attempt years ago, accidentally gave Hitler a disfiguring scare on his lip, which is the reason he wears his distinctive mustache. In the climax, Bond gets Hitler (Bob Watson), and shaves off his mustache to make sure he's got the right man and not a double; when the Nazis catch up with them, they don't recognize their cowardly leader and they shoot him dead. Bond is killed by firing squad, but Edwards and Tree escape to the States to spread the message they've learned that it's not just one man but an entire evil movement that needs to be destroyed.
The above description makes the movie sound more interesting than it really is. As a scrappy pulp-fiction anti-Nazi adventure story, Warner's DESPERATE JOURNEY with Errol Flynn is far more enjoyable. The extremely low budget leads to cheap-looking sets and a terrible music score. The actors aren't bad, especially Dorothy Tree (who got her start in talkies in a wordless role as one of Lugosi's undead brides in DRACULA), although Bond gives a weak one-note, over-the-top performance. I like him a lot in supporting parts (GONE WITH THE WIND, IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, MALTESE FALCON) but maybe he just wasn't cut out for lead roles. The tone of the movie, if not quite comic, is light, but a scene near the climax of crying children being lined up against a wall and shot feels startlingly out of place. Watson is OK as a comic-book version of Hitler, and there is something satisfying in seeing him turn squealing coward when captured by Bond. [DVD]
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
FOLIES BERGERE (1935)
In the past, I have found myself immune to the charms of Maurice Chevalier, but I must admit he is quite good in this frothy musical, the best Astaire/Rogers musical that Astaire and Rogers never made. Chevalier seems to be playing a version of himself, a French music-hall entertainer named Charlier. He happens to be the spitting image of the famous financier Baron Cassini and so has worked an impression of the Baron into his act. One night, the Baron (also Chevalier) and his wife (Merle Oberon) come see Charlier's act, but before the two men can meet, Cassini is given the bad news that an land deal into which he has sunk a great deal of his bank's money has soured and he leaves, planning a secret trip to London in order to secure some loans before news of the potential crash can leak out. After he's left, his business partners decide to hire Charlier to impersonate Cassini at a social function the next night, which might be attended by the Minister of Finance. For no good reason except that it suits the plot, Charlier doesn't want the baroness to know about the impersonation, but the partners tell her anyway, so she knows but he doesn't know she knows. In the middle of the party, Charlier's jealous wife (Ann Sothern) arrives, which begins a string of improbable occurrences leading to the last half-hour becoming much like the Lunt-Fontanne comedy THE GUARDSMAN, with the Baroness being unsure if she spent the night with her husband or with the music-hall singer. (In the dialogue, everyone is much concerned about the two having kissed after the party, but the plotting really makes no sense unless the audience translates "kissing" to "having sex.") Of course, everything works out for everyone in the end.
I usually find Chevalier insufferable, but here, he has a light touch that works nicely, and he does an excellent job making his Cassini different from his Charlier--the two never meet, so no special effects are required. Oberon, another performer I've never liked much, is quite good here in her first Hollywood film; she's lovely and sexy and has a nice comic touch. Sothern is fine, but doesn't really get much screen time. There is strong support from such reliables as Eric Blore, doing his flustered butler bit to perfection, Robert Grieg, and Halliwell Hobbes. Early in the movie, there is the very modern touch of having the Baron and Baroness declare themselves as having an "open" marriage (with Walter Byron playing the somewhat effete admirer of the Baroness), but this makes the outrage over Oberon supposedly having an affair with Charlier seem blown way out of proportion. I'm guessing the foolish figure of the not-quite-lover (also found in Astaire/Rogers films and the 1939 screwball comedy MIDNIGHT) was a way to get around the strictures of the Code. I also need to mention the fine production numbers by Dave Gould, who won an Oscar for this movie; there are lots of Busby Berkeley touches, like neon lightning bolts, aerial shots of elaborate dance patterns, and dozens of dancing girls with props. The numbers are clustered at the beginning, with one last "Straw Hat" number at the end, and they are every bit as fun as any of the Warners' "Gold Diggers" routines. Highly recommended. [FMC]
In the past, I have found myself immune to the charms of Maurice Chevalier, but I must admit he is quite good in this frothy musical, the best Astaire/Rogers musical that Astaire and Rogers never made. Chevalier seems to be playing a version of himself, a French music-hall entertainer named Charlier. He happens to be the spitting image of the famous financier Baron Cassini and so has worked an impression of the Baron into his act. One night, the Baron (also Chevalier) and his wife (Merle Oberon) come see Charlier's act, but before the two men can meet, Cassini is given the bad news that an land deal into which he has sunk a great deal of his bank's money has soured and he leaves, planning a secret trip to London in order to secure some loans before news of the potential crash can leak out. After he's left, his business partners decide to hire Charlier to impersonate Cassini at a social function the next night, which might be attended by the Minister of Finance. For no good reason except that it suits the plot, Charlier doesn't want the baroness to know about the impersonation, but the partners tell her anyway, so she knows but he doesn't know she knows. In the middle of the party, Charlier's jealous wife (Ann Sothern) arrives, which begins a string of improbable occurrences leading to the last half-hour becoming much like the Lunt-Fontanne comedy THE GUARDSMAN, with the Baroness being unsure if she spent the night with her husband or with the music-hall singer. (In the dialogue, everyone is much concerned about the two having kissed after the party, but the plotting really makes no sense unless the audience translates "kissing" to "having sex.") Of course, everything works out for everyone in the end.
I usually find Chevalier insufferable, but here, he has a light touch that works nicely, and he does an excellent job making his Cassini different from his Charlier--the two never meet, so no special effects are required. Oberon, another performer I've never liked much, is quite good here in her first Hollywood film; she's lovely and sexy and has a nice comic touch. Sothern is fine, but doesn't really get much screen time. There is strong support from such reliables as Eric Blore, doing his flustered butler bit to perfection, Robert Grieg, and Halliwell Hobbes. Early in the movie, there is the very modern touch of having the Baron and Baroness declare themselves as having an "open" marriage (with Walter Byron playing the somewhat effete admirer of the Baroness), but this makes the outrage over Oberon supposedly having an affair with Charlier seem blown way out of proportion. I'm guessing the foolish figure of the not-quite-lover (also found in Astaire/Rogers films and the 1939 screwball comedy MIDNIGHT) was a way to get around the strictures of the Code. I also need to mention the fine production numbers by Dave Gould, who won an Oscar for this movie; there are lots of Busby Berkeley touches, like neon lightning bolts, aerial shots of elaborate dance patterns, and dozens of dancing girls with props. The numbers are clustered at the beginning, with one last "Straw Hat" number at the end, and they are every bit as fun as any of the Warners' "Gold Diggers" routines. Highly recommended. [FMC]
Monday, May 09, 2005
FLIGHT ANGELS (1940)
Since the last two movies I wrote up involved airplane pilots, this one will complete the trilogy. The title refers to stewardesses, but they are really just background for the real story of a male pilot, his gal, his pal, and his ego. Dennis Morgan is a playboy pilot, Virginia Bruce is his long-suffering girlfriend, and Wayne Morris is the friend. Doctor John Litel discovers that Morgan's eyes are giving out and airline boss Ralph Bellamy reassigns him to teaching stewardesses a class on the basics of flying. Naturally, Morgan is frustrated staying on the ground and, when a new "stratosphere ship" that he and Morris have been working on is ready for a test, Morgan punches out Morris and takes the plane up himself, with almost tragic results. There is a subplot involving Morris's girl Jane Wyman, who gets into a knockdown catfight with snotty Margot Stevenson. The leads in this B-movie are all fine, with Wyman especially fun in her scenes in the stewardesses' lounge, where the man-hungry angels chatter endlessly. Rather dated, but solid in that breezy Warners way. Also with John Ridgely, Jan Clayton (later the mom in the original Lassie show), and Dorothea Kent. Best line, from Wyman: "The stork that brought you should have been arrested for smuggling dope!" [TCM]
Saturday, May 07, 2005
CENTRAL AIRPORT (1933)
This doesn't seem to be a remake, nor has it been officially remade, but the plot is very familiar: two men, related by blood and/or in the same profession, fight for the love of a woman. In this case, the two men are brothers and pilots, and this specific set-up has distinct echoes of an earlier Warners film, THE CROWD ROARS in which the brothers were car racers. Richard Barthelmess is the older brother, an airline pilot who crashes in a storm and is fired for recklessness. He takes a job at a bank, replacing his kid brother Tom Brown who has a job as a test pilot. Barthelmess meets up with Sally Eilers, a stunt parachutist, and when her flying partner (also her brother) is killed in a crash, Barthelmess takes his place. The two travel around the country doing their act, and become lovers in the process, but when he balks at marriage (in his words, "Just because you're hungry, you don't have to buy a restaurant"), she leaves him. Of course, it being such a small world and all, doesn't she wind up pairing off with Brown, who *does* marry her. Barthelmess takes any flying job he can, and when we see him next, he's got a limp and an eyepatch, and there is still some spark between him and Eilers. Brown, now an airline pilot, crashes and Barthelmess flies out in a storm to save him. Will Barthelmess make it back in thick fog? Who will Eilers stick with?
This doesn't seem to be a remake, nor has it been officially remade, but the plot is very familiar: two men, related by blood and/or in the same profession, fight for the love of a woman. In this case, the two men are brothers and pilots, and this specific set-up has distinct echoes of an earlier Warners film, THE CROWD ROARS in which the brothers were car racers. Richard Barthelmess is the older brother, an airline pilot who crashes in a storm and is fired for recklessness. He takes a job at a bank, replacing his kid brother Tom Brown who has a job as a test pilot. Barthelmess meets up with Sally Eilers, a stunt parachutist, and when her flying partner (also her brother) is killed in a crash, Barthelmess takes his place. The two travel around the country doing their act, and become lovers in the process, but when he balks at marriage (in his words, "Just because you're hungry, you don't have to buy a restaurant"), she leaves him. Of course, it being such a small world and all, doesn't she wind up pairing off with Brown, who *does* marry her. Barthelmess takes any flying job he can, and when we see him next, he's got a limp and an eyepatch, and there is still some spark between him and Eilers. Brown, now an airline pilot, crashes and Barthelmess flies out in a storm to save him. Will Barthelmess make it back in thick fog? Who will Eilers stick with?
The movie has some good flying scenes--the director, William Wellman, was a pilot and directed the Oscar-winning WINGS--and some nice pre-Code touches. I especially like fact that there is no pussyfooting around in letting us know that Barthelmess and Eilers are sleeping together; this wouldn't have been possible in the movies a year later. The movie's main liability is Barthelmess who had been a big silent star, but whose career was fading fast in the early 30s. He's stiff and, at 38, seems a bit too old for the part; conversely, the 23-year-old Brown looks about 18 and seems a smidge too young. Still, Brown and Eilers are good, and the sexual tension between the three is well played. Fans of character actors will recognize Grant Mitchell, Charles Lane, and James Murray. Predictable but fun, with a less predictable and satisfying ending. [TCM]
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
BRIGHT EYES (1934)
I don't quite know how I got to be 40-something without ever having seen a Shirley Temple movie. Strictly speaking, that's not quite true since I've seen two movies from the mid-1940s in which she played supporting roles (SINCE YOU WENT AWAY and I'LL BE SEEING YOU), but I had never seen any of her child star movies of the 30s until now. This, featuring one of her first starring roles, is famous for her rendition of her signature song, "On the Good Ship Lollipop," and who knew that the ship in question was actually not a boat, but an airplane? Temple is the daughter of Lois Wilson, maid to the wealthy, snooty Smythe family. Temple's father was a pilot who died in a crack-up some years ago and the little girl has become something of a mascot to the local pilots ever since; she especially idolizes James Dunn, who treats Temple like a daughter. The Smythes don't like the pilots hanging around the house and decide, after Christmas, to fire Wilson. However, on Christmas day, Wilson is hit and killed in a car accident. The family agrees to keep Temple briefly, but plan on shipping her out to an orphanage as soon as possible. Dunn wants to adopt her, but so does Uncle Ned (Charles Sellon), a grumpy old man who is tolerated by the Smythes only because they stand to inherit a bundle from him, and who is happy only in the presence of Temple (and who insists on puncturing the family's pretensions by pronouncing their last name "Smith"). Entering this custody battle is Judith Allen, a visiting socialite who had been engaged at one time to Dunn; gee, if only she and Dunn could patch things up and make a traditional family for Temple! There is virtually no suspense as to the outcome, so a scene in which Temple stows away on Dunn's plane during a terrible storm is thrown in to give some tension to the last half of the film. It's not a bad movie--Temple is good and not nearly as syrupy as I had been led to expect. She has a fine antagonist in Jane Withers, playing the bratty daughter of the Smythes, who steals most of the scenes she's in. Dunn, best known as the alcoholic father in A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN, is also fine, and Jane Darwell has a small role as the family cook. The "Lollipop" number is a bit strange, occurring as it does in a passenger plane with a dozen or so butch pilots crooning along. I was rather hoping that Temple would wind up living with the hunky single pilots at the airport, though I suppose that unorthodox family situation would have been way too subversive for the time. [FMC]
I don't quite know how I got to be 40-something without ever having seen a Shirley Temple movie. Strictly speaking, that's not quite true since I've seen two movies from the mid-1940s in which she played supporting roles (SINCE YOU WENT AWAY and I'LL BE SEEING YOU), but I had never seen any of her child star movies of the 30s until now. This, featuring one of her first starring roles, is famous for her rendition of her signature song, "On the Good Ship Lollipop," and who knew that the ship in question was actually not a boat, but an airplane? Temple is the daughter of Lois Wilson, maid to the wealthy, snooty Smythe family. Temple's father was a pilot who died in a crack-up some years ago and the little girl has become something of a mascot to the local pilots ever since; she especially idolizes James Dunn, who treats Temple like a daughter. The Smythes don't like the pilots hanging around the house and decide, after Christmas, to fire Wilson. However, on Christmas day, Wilson is hit and killed in a car accident. The family agrees to keep Temple briefly, but plan on shipping her out to an orphanage as soon as possible. Dunn wants to adopt her, but so does Uncle Ned (Charles Sellon), a grumpy old man who is tolerated by the Smythes only because they stand to inherit a bundle from him, and who is happy only in the presence of Temple (and who insists on puncturing the family's pretensions by pronouncing their last name "Smith"). Entering this custody battle is Judith Allen, a visiting socialite who had been engaged at one time to Dunn; gee, if only she and Dunn could patch things up and make a traditional family for Temple! There is virtually no suspense as to the outcome, so a scene in which Temple stows away on Dunn's plane during a terrible storm is thrown in to give some tension to the last half of the film. It's not a bad movie--Temple is good and not nearly as syrupy as I had been led to expect. She has a fine antagonist in Jane Withers, playing the bratty daughter of the Smythes, who steals most of the scenes she's in. Dunn, best known as the alcoholic father in A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN, is also fine, and Jane Darwell has a small role as the family cook. The "Lollipop" number is a bit strange, occurring as it does in a passenger plane with a dozen or so butch pilots crooning along. I was rather hoping that Temple would wind up living with the hunky single pilots at the airport, though I suppose that unorthodox family situation would have been way too subversive for the time. [FMC]
Saturday, April 30, 2005
THE GORILLA (1939)
An incredibly derivative comedy-thriller which shows why the Ritz Brothers are no longer fondly remembered in the collective pop culture consciousness. A killer known as the Gorilla is terrorizing the town; reporters seem to think that an actual gorilla is doing the killings, but notes are left at the scenes of the crimes. Lionel Atwill receives a note warning him that he is next and will be murdered at midnight, so he hires three detectives (the Ritz Brothers) to protect him. Unfortunately, they are totally inept at their job and at midnight, the lights go out and Atwill vanishes. The brothers stay on the case, investigating the houseful of suspects, including niece Anita Louise, her boyfriend Edward Norris, the creepy butler (Bela Lugosi) and a mysterious stranger (Joseph Calleia) who claims to be another detective. It turns out (Spoiler Alert!!!) that Atwill faked his own disappearance and that Calleia is the real killer. As a comedy team, the Ritzes fall somewhere between the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, much closer to the Stooge style of slapstick. They're not really my cup of tea, but I did laugh at their antics more often than I expected to. The screenplay, filled with "old dark house" elements from THE BAT WHISPERS and THE CAT AND THE CANARY, is based on a play by Ralph Spence which had been made into a movie twice before, but the plot specifics are also very reminiscent of a 1933 Chester Morris B-film called TOMORROW AT SEVEN which Spence wrote, apparently plagiarizing himself. Patsy Kelly is fun as a skittish maid, and Lugosi, who doesn't have much to do, winds up being a good guy. Not a great movie, but it's so good-natured that it's difficult to dislike. [TCM]
An incredibly derivative comedy-thriller which shows why the Ritz Brothers are no longer fondly remembered in the collective pop culture consciousness. A killer known as the Gorilla is terrorizing the town; reporters seem to think that an actual gorilla is doing the killings, but notes are left at the scenes of the crimes. Lionel Atwill receives a note warning him that he is next and will be murdered at midnight, so he hires three detectives (the Ritz Brothers) to protect him. Unfortunately, they are totally inept at their job and at midnight, the lights go out and Atwill vanishes. The brothers stay on the case, investigating the houseful of suspects, including niece Anita Louise, her boyfriend Edward Norris, the creepy butler (Bela Lugosi) and a mysterious stranger (Joseph Calleia) who claims to be another detective. It turns out (Spoiler Alert!!!) that Atwill faked his own disappearance and that Calleia is the real killer. As a comedy team, the Ritzes fall somewhere between the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, much closer to the Stooge style of slapstick. They're not really my cup of tea, but I did laugh at their antics more often than I expected to. The screenplay, filled with "old dark house" elements from THE BAT WHISPERS and THE CAT AND THE CANARY, is based on a play by Ralph Spence which had been made into a movie twice before, but the plot specifics are also very reminiscent of a 1933 Chester Morris B-film called TOMORROW AT SEVEN which Spence wrote, apparently plagiarizing himself. Patsy Kelly is fun as a skittish maid, and Lugosi, who doesn't have much to do, winds up being a good guy. Not a great movie, but it's so good-natured that it's difficult to dislike. [TCM]
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
ADVENTURE IN IRAQ (1943)
A B-movie remake of the George Arliss film THE GREEN GODDESS. The sets are not as opulent, and the actors are all of the second rank, but it's a fairly strong Warner Brothers second feature. Pilot Warren Douglas is flying a husband and wife (John Loder and Ruth Ford) across Iraq when his plane runs out of gas and he has to land in the middle of the Iraqi desert. Loder is a dissolute fellow and his marriage seems on the verge of breaking up, so of course some mild sparks fly between the wife and the pilot, but that matter must take a back seat to survival. Luckily, they are found and taken in by Paul Cavanagh, the sheik of the village of Ghatsi. However, he has dark plans afoot, holding them hostage in hopes that his three brothers, who are about to be executed by the British as Nazi spies, will be freed. The only other major character is Cavanagh's British butler, Barry Bernard, who may or may not be sympathetic to his fellow countrymen. The plot and even individual scenes follow the original movie very closely, even down to the same closing line. Cavanagh is fine, but will not erase memories of Arliss, who was more charmingly eccentric in his take on the character. As a supporting actor in A-movies, Loder almost always seems out of his element, but he is fine here and does a nice job as the creep whom you know will redeem himself through sacrifice by the end. Ford is good, as is the handsome Douglas. The WWII atmosphere is handled lightly: there is a reference to Douglas having been a Flying Tiger earlier in the war (though nothing is done with that), and the Nazi collaboration charges against the brothers does not extend to Cavanagh, which allows him to escape relatively unpunished at the end, as Arliss does in the original. At just under an hour, it moves along nicely. Even though this is a Warners film, it must be out of copyright because I saw it on an Alpha Video DVD; the print condition is great, which is rare for Alpha. [DVD]
A B-movie remake of the George Arliss film THE GREEN GODDESS. The sets are not as opulent, and the actors are all of the second rank, but it's a fairly strong Warner Brothers second feature. Pilot Warren Douglas is flying a husband and wife (John Loder and Ruth Ford) across Iraq when his plane runs out of gas and he has to land in the middle of the Iraqi desert. Loder is a dissolute fellow and his marriage seems on the verge of breaking up, so of course some mild sparks fly between the wife and the pilot, but that matter must take a back seat to survival. Luckily, they are found and taken in by Paul Cavanagh, the sheik of the village of Ghatsi. However, he has dark plans afoot, holding them hostage in hopes that his three brothers, who are about to be executed by the British as Nazi spies, will be freed. The only other major character is Cavanagh's British butler, Barry Bernard, who may or may not be sympathetic to his fellow countrymen. The plot and even individual scenes follow the original movie very closely, even down to the same closing line. Cavanagh is fine, but will not erase memories of Arliss, who was more charmingly eccentric in his take on the character. As a supporting actor in A-movies, Loder almost always seems out of his element, but he is fine here and does a nice job as the creep whom you know will redeem himself through sacrifice by the end. Ford is good, as is the handsome Douglas. The WWII atmosphere is handled lightly: there is a reference to Douglas having been a Flying Tiger earlier in the war (though nothing is done with that), and the Nazi collaboration charges against the brothers does not extend to Cavanagh, which allows him to escape relatively unpunished at the end, as Arliss does in the original. At just under an hour, it moves along nicely. Even though this is a Warners film, it must be out of copyright because I saw it on an Alpha Video DVD; the print condition is great, which is rare for Alpha. [DVD]
Saturday, April 23, 2005
THE UNFAITHFUL (1947)
Interesting reworking of the 1940 Bette Davis classic THE LETTER. Ann Sheridan is the wife of an architect (Zachery Scott) who is rebuilding his business after returning from duty overseas during the war. The night before her husband comes back from a business trip, Sheridan is surprised by an intruder; after a violent struggle, she kills him with a knife and claims self-defense. But there's more to the case than meets the eye: it turns out that the intruder was an artist with whom Sheridan had carried on an affair while Scott was away in the war. Sheridan doesn't tell the police or her attorney friend (Lew Ayers) about this until a sexy bust that the artist made of Sheridan crops up and an art dealer (Steven Geray) and the artist's widow (Marta Mitrovich) try to blackmail her; after all the facts come out, Sheridan winds up on trial for murder. In the 1940 version, Davis is a conniving bitch; here, Sheridan is a misunderstood war wife who married in a hurry, then didn't see her husband for years, and the murder actually *is* done in self-defense, which allows Sheridan to escape Davis's punishment. Sheridan is at her best, discarding the rather wooden mannerisms that mar some of her earlier performances; Scott, whom I've never thought much of, is also quite good. Eve Arden provides great fun, as usual, in the supporting part of a gossipy friend of the family who starts out as unsympathetic but winds up being a voice of reason. The power of malicious gossip briefly becomes a thematic element, but not much is done with it. Though the plotting is a bit loose, there is some amusing dialogue. My favorite exchange comes when one gossiping society lady says, "If I came home to a strange man in my house, I just don't know what I'd do," and another lady replies, "You'd give him 48 hours to leave." Other cast members, all of whom do good work, include John Hoyt as a cop, Jerome Cowan as the prosecuting attorney, and Jane Harker as a friend of Arden's. Not as steamy or atmospheric as the 1940 movie, but it does manage to stand alone in its own right and is well worth watching. [TCM]
Interesting reworking of the 1940 Bette Davis classic THE LETTER. Ann Sheridan is the wife of an architect (Zachery Scott) who is rebuilding his business after returning from duty overseas during the war. The night before her husband comes back from a business trip, Sheridan is surprised by an intruder; after a violent struggle, she kills him with a knife and claims self-defense. But there's more to the case than meets the eye: it turns out that the intruder was an artist with whom Sheridan had carried on an affair while Scott was away in the war. Sheridan doesn't tell the police or her attorney friend (Lew Ayers) about this until a sexy bust that the artist made of Sheridan crops up and an art dealer (Steven Geray) and the artist's widow (Marta Mitrovich) try to blackmail her; after all the facts come out, Sheridan winds up on trial for murder. In the 1940 version, Davis is a conniving bitch; here, Sheridan is a misunderstood war wife who married in a hurry, then didn't see her husband for years, and the murder actually *is* done in self-defense, which allows Sheridan to escape Davis's punishment. Sheridan is at her best, discarding the rather wooden mannerisms that mar some of her earlier performances; Scott, whom I've never thought much of, is also quite good. Eve Arden provides great fun, as usual, in the supporting part of a gossipy friend of the family who starts out as unsympathetic but winds up being a voice of reason. The power of malicious gossip briefly becomes a thematic element, but not much is done with it. Though the plotting is a bit loose, there is some amusing dialogue. My favorite exchange comes when one gossiping society lady says, "If I came home to a strange man in my house, I just don't know what I'd do," and another lady replies, "You'd give him 48 hours to leave." Other cast members, all of whom do good work, include John Hoyt as a cop, Jerome Cowan as the prosecuting attorney, and Jane Harker as a friend of Arden's. Not as steamy or atmospheric as the 1940 movie, but it does manage to stand alone in its own right and is well worth watching. [TCM]
Thursday, April 21, 2005
THREE ON A MATCH (1932)
To see what all the fuss is about concerning the pre-Code era, this is the movie to see, maybe on a double bill with BABY FACE. It's short (64 minutes, too short to really do the material justice, but it does move at a lightning pace), has crime, violence, sex, and debauchery, features three standout performances, and is loads of fun. The movie begins in 1919 and moves forward a few years at a time, with newsreel footage and period music to set each scene; we follow the paths of three young women from their playground days through their late 20's. Mary (Joan Blondell) is the school tramp, showing off her bloomers and skipping class to go smoking with the boys; she winds up spending some time in a reform school before becoming a chorus girl. Ruth (Bette Davis) is the valedictorian who goes to business school and winds up as a secretary. Vivian (Ann Dvorak), pretty and popular, gets married to a lawyer (Warren William) and has a son, but finds the pampered life boring. In 1930, the three meet up for lunch and use one match to light three cigarettes, defying a legend that says one of the three will meet with an early death. Soon, Dvorak has left her family to hang out with no-good but handsome Lyle Talbot; she becomes an alcoholic and a drug addict and, when Talbot can't repay a big gambling debt, she arranges to have her son kidnapped to ransom for cash. In the meantime, Blondell has married William and Davis is their governess, but the last half of the movie is pretty much focused on the tragic Dvorak, leading to a wild and woolly climax with a truly shocking last scene for Dvorak.
Dvorak is the standout here, doing a great job going from mild to restless to slutty to debauched. Blondell is fine, but Davis has very little to do--in fact, after the three meet up for their fateful lunch, she's barely involved in the proceedings at all. Talbot is excellent, almost as good as Dvorak as a guy who's slick and charming on the outside, but who falls apart quickly when the going gets rough--though he went on to appear in dozens of movies, he was rarely able to show the kind of spark he does here. Humphrey Bogart and Allen Jenkins are thugs, and Edward Arnold has a small but important part as the gangster boss--we first see him in a distorted close-up mirror, plucking his nose hairs, and it's a creepy moment. The three young actresses who play the trio as girls (Anne Shirley, Virginia Davis, and Betty Carse) are good, and one of my favorite child actors, Frankie Darro, plays one of the smoking boys in the schoolyard scene. Glenda Farrell, Clara Blandick, and Grant Mitchell also appear. A must-see for anyone interested in the minor masterpieces of pre-Code Hollywood. [TCM]
To see what all the fuss is about concerning the pre-Code era, this is the movie to see, maybe on a double bill with BABY FACE. It's short (64 minutes, too short to really do the material justice, but it does move at a lightning pace), has crime, violence, sex, and debauchery, features three standout performances, and is loads of fun. The movie begins in 1919 and moves forward a few years at a time, with newsreel footage and period music to set each scene; we follow the paths of three young women from their playground days through their late 20's. Mary (Joan Blondell) is the school tramp, showing off her bloomers and skipping class to go smoking with the boys; she winds up spending some time in a reform school before becoming a chorus girl. Ruth (Bette Davis) is the valedictorian who goes to business school and winds up as a secretary. Vivian (Ann Dvorak), pretty and popular, gets married to a lawyer (Warren William) and has a son, but finds the pampered life boring. In 1930, the three meet up for lunch and use one match to light three cigarettes, defying a legend that says one of the three will meet with an early death. Soon, Dvorak has left her family to hang out with no-good but handsome Lyle Talbot; she becomes an alcoholic and a drug addict and, when Talbot can't repay a big gambling debt, she arranges to have her son kidnapped to ransom for cash. In the meantime, Blondell has married William and Davis is their governess, but the last half of the movie is pretty much focused on the tragic Dvorak, leading to a wild and woolly climax with a truly shocking last scene for Dvorak.
Dvorak is the standout here, doing a great job going from mild to restless to slutty to debauched. Blondell is fine, but Davis has very little to do--in fact, after the three meet up for their fateful lunch, she's barely involved in the proceedings at all. Talbot is excellent, almost as good as Dvorak as a guy who's slick and charming on the outside, but who falls apart quickly when the going gets rough--though he went on to appear in dozens of movies, he was rarely able to show the kind of spark he does here. Humphrey Bogart and Allen Jenkins are thugs, and Edward Arnold has a small but important part as the gangster boss--we first see him in a distorted close-up mirror, plucking his nose hairs, and it's a creepy moment. The three young actresses who play the trio as girls (Anne Shirley, Virginia Davis, and Betty Carse) are good, and one of my favorite child actors, Frankie Darro, plays one of the smoking boys in the schoolyard scene. Glenda Farrell, Clara Blandick, and Grant Mitchell also appear. A must-see for anyone interested in the minor masterpieces of pre-Code Hollywood. [TCM]
Sunday, April 17, 2005
THE BEGINNING OR THE END (1947)
This docudrama about the development of the atomic bomb is problematic because the writers and director seem to have been unable to decide how to tell its story and wound up torn between two different and basically contradictory impulses: a dry documentary and an intimate tale of the people involved. The movie jerks back and forth between these two approaches and winds up feeling stagy and dishonest. For most of the film, we see the growth of the Manhattan Project filtered through three characters with differing viewpoints: Army General Brian Donlevy represents the military, recent college graduate Tom Drake stands in for the community of scientists, and Donlevy's assistant Robert Walker bridges the two: he's an army colonel but he's also much closer in age and outlook to Drake. The story begins with a group of research scientists, headed by Robert Oppenheimer (Hume Cronyn), getting Albert Einstein on their side to give their experiments with atomic fission some credibility. President Roosevelt signs off on their project and the race is on to develop a useable atomic weapon before the Nazis do. Fairly dry scenes showing the research alternate with somewhat more emotional and philosophical moments between Drake and Walker. Both men have female love interests, but they seem far more interested in their work (and, occasionally, each other) than in anything as mundane as home and family. I have no idea how much of what passes for scientific fact in this movie is real, but the scenes of experimentation are actually the most interesting. Other actors include Richard Haydn, Joseph Calleia, Hurd Hatfield, John Litel, and Jonathan Hale; they each get at least one big scene, but they all (military and scientists alike) tend to blur together behind the starring trio. To its credit, the movie, released just two years after Hiroshima, does deal with the discomfort that some of the principals felt about what they were doing and where it could lead (and one character does die from an accident involving radioactive material), but that is kept in the background, and the military view that the bomb was a necessity for ending the war is never seriously questioned. The opening, a fake newsreel showing a copy of the movie being put in a time capsule, is ludicrous, but it's mostly uphill from there. Interesting, if a bit long and rarely as compelling as it wants to be. [TCM]
This docudrama about the development of the atomic bomb is problematic because the writers and director seem to have been unable to decide how to tell its story and wound up torn between two different and basically contradictory impulses: a dry documentary and an intimate tale of the people involved. The movie jerks back and forth between these two approaches and winds up feeling stagy and dishonest. For most of the film, we see the growth of the Manhattan Project filtered through three characters with differing viewpoints: Army General Brian Donlevy represents the military, recent college graduate Tom Drake stands in for the community of scientists, and Donlevy's assistant Robert Walker bridges the two: he's an army colonel but he's also much closer in age and outlook to Drake. The story begins with a group of research scientists, headed by Robert Oppenheimer (Hume Cronyn), getting Albert Einstein on their side to give their experiments with atomic fission some credibility. President Roosevelt signs off on their project and the race is on to develop a useable atomic weapon before the Nazis do. Fairly dry scenes showing the research alternate with somewhat more emotional and philosophical moments between Drake and Walker. Both men have female love interests, but they seem far more interested in their work (and, occasionally, each other) than in anything as mundane as home and family. I have no idea how much of what passes for scientific fact in this movie is real, but the scenes of experimentation are actually the most interesting. Other actors include Richard Haydn, Joseph Calleia, Hurd Hatfield, John Litel, and Jonathan Hale; they each get at least one big scene, but they all (military and scientists alike) tend to blur together behind the starring trio. To its credit, the movie, released just two years after Hiroshima, does deal with the discomfort that some of the principals felt about what they were doing and where it could lead (and one character does die from an accident involving radioactive material), but that is kept in the background, and the military view that the bomb was a necessity for ending the war is never seriously questioned. The opening, a fake newsreel showing a copy of the movie being put in a time capsule, is ludicrous, but it's mostly uphill from there. Interesting, if a bit long and rarely as compelling as it wants to be. [TCM]
Thursday, April 14, 2005
THE WIND (1928)
Classic film from the late silent period. Lillian Gish is a young woman who has come to the barren wastes of Texas from Virginia to live with her cousin (Edward Earle) and his jealous wife (Dorothy Cumming). The land is constantly scoured by hot winds and making a go of it there is tough for anyone--the families of the small settlement are sometimes reduced to eating horse guts. The rather soft and vulnerable Gish, who is a bit high strung and is often unnerved by the sound of the wind, is a hit with Earle and his kids, so the wife forces Gish to take a rough and tumble cowboy (Lars Hanson) up on his proposal of marriage to get her out of the house. Actually, a slimy salesman (Montague Love) whom Gish met on the train also wants her, and Gish considers this option, but when she finds out that Love is married and only wants her as his mistress, she decides to marry Hanson. All the evidence we see suggests it's a sexless marriage of convenience for both of them (she gets a place to stay, he gets a housekeeper). During a particularly nasty cyclone, Love is found unconscious out in the elements and Hanson brings him to his house to recover; while the rest of the men go back out in the storm, Love rapes Gish and the next morning, she shoots him dead and throws his body outside. Hanson returns just as Gish seems to have completely lost her senses; he is able to comfort her and we are left to believe that Gish has at last adjusted to her surroundings and the two will live happily ever after.
The constant wind is a plus, though it is so very constant that I had a hard time believing that anyone in his or her right mind would actually choose to remain living in such a place; I know that it serves a somewhat symbolic purpose, and a case could be made that our over-the-top experience of the wind is a mirror of how Gish sees it, not necessarily how the rest of the characters do, but still, my willing suspension of disbelief was stretched a bit. Most of the actors are good--the florid silent style of acting is pretty much absent from this movie, except for some figurative mustache-twirling from villain Love. Though she's overshadowed by Gish and Hanson, Cumming is very good, giving the most "modern" performance in the movie. Apparently, the original ending had Gish, after killing Love, going mad and wandering in the storm to her certain death. I'd like to see that ending, but I still think that the current happy ending works just fine. The scenes of the wind and sand beginning to break the house apart are well done, as is a creepy scene of Love's body getting buried, by nature itself if you will, by the wind and sand. Overall, not quite as great a film as its reputation suggests, largely because of some plotholes attributable to a lack of backstory--Gish and Hanson's characters could use some fleshing-out--but certainly worth watching. [TCM]
Classic film from the late silent period. Lillian Gish is a young woman who has come to the barren wastes of Texas from Virginia to live with her cousin (Edward Earle) and his jealous wife (Dorothy Cumming). The land is constantly scoured by hot winds and making a go of it there is tough for anyone--the families of the small settlement are sometimes reduced to eating horse guts. The rather soft and vulnerable Gish, who is a bit high strung and is often unnerved by the sound of the wind, is a hit with Earle and his kids, so the wife forces Gish to take a rough and tumble cowboy (Lars Hanson) up on his proposal of marriage to get her out of the house. Actually, a slimy salesman (Montague Love) whom Gish met on the train also wants her, and Gish considers this option, but when she finds out that Love is married and only wants her as his mistress, she decides to marry Hanson. All the evidence we see suggests it's a sexless marriage of convenience for both of them (she gets a place to stay, he gets a housekeeper). During a particularly nasty cyclone, Love is found unconscious out in the elements and Hanson brings him to his house to recover; while the rest of the men go back out in the storm, Love rapes Gish and the next morning, she shoots him dead and throws his body outside. Hanson returns just as Gish seems to have completely lost her senses; he is able to comfort her and we are left to believe that Gish has at last adjusted to her surroundings and the two will live happily ever after.
The constant wind is a plus, though it is so very constant that I had a hard time believing that anyone in his or her right mind would actually choose to remain living in such a place; I know that it serves a somewhat symbolic purpose, and a case could be made that our over-the-top experience of the wind is a mirror of how Gish sees it, not necessarily how the rest of the characters do, but still, my willing suspension of disbelief was stretched a bit. Most of the actors are good--the florid silent style of acting is pretty much absent from this movie, except for some figurative mustache-twirling from villain Love. Though she's overshadowed by Gish and Hanson, Cumming is very good, giving the most "modern" performance in the movie. Apparently, the original ending had Gish, after killing Love, going mad and wandering in the storm to her certain death. I'd like to see that ending, but I still think that the current happy ending works just fine. The scenes of the wind and sand beginning to break the house apart are well done, as is a creepy scene of Love's body getting buried, by nature itself if you will, by the wind and sand. Overall, not quite as great a film as its reputation suggests, largely because of some plotholes attributable to a lack of backstory--Gish and Hanson's characters could use some fleshing-out--but certainly worth watching. [TCM]
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
THE MIND READER (1933)
Minor, fairly predictable melodrama with only Warren William to recommend it. I like William when he plays a total shit (as in EMPLOYEE'S ENTRANCE) or a detective (his Perry Mason movies); here, he's on shakier ground as an oily con man who falls in love and tries to give up his grifting ways, but is sucked back in anyway. We see him in a series of con jobs: operating as a "painless dentist," selling hair tonic, and working as a carny for a flagpole sitter (his sidekick Allen Jenkins). Soon, William sets himself up as Chandra the Great, a mind-reader. His gimmick is that he has the audience write questions on small pieces of paper, burns them in a bowl, then "reads" the messages from the great beyond and answers them--actually, the questions are dumped from the bottom of the bowl to Jenkins, sitting under the stage, who transmits the questions to William, wearing earphones in his turban. This is fun to watch for a while, especially when they trick a small-town sheriff who wants to run them out but ends up a big fan. But soon, William falls for young Constance Cummings and she forces him to go straight. Life as a door-to-door salesman doesn't work out and, behind Cummings' back, William goes back to the mind-reading biz, getting some high society women as clients. When distraught Mayo Methot throws herself down an elevator shaft as a result of William's doings, everything goes downhill until William winds up on the run from a murder charge. William is at his best in an onstage drunken breakdown late in the film. Jenkins is good, as is Clarence Muse as another assistant. Clara Blandick (OZ's Auntie Em) has a small role. Jenkins has the movie's final line, a humorous reference to the end of Prohibition. [TCM]
Minor, fairly predictable melodrama with only Warren William to recommend it. I like William when he plays a total shit (as in EMPLOYEE'S ENTRANCE) or a detective (his Perry Mason movies); here, he's on shakier ground as an oily con man who falls in love and tries to give up his grifting ways, but is sucked back in anyway. We see him in a series of con jobs: operating as a "painless dentist," selling hair tonic, and working as a carny for a flagpole sitter (his sidekick Allen Jenkins). Soon, William sets himself up as Chandra the Great, a mind-reader. His gimmick is that he has the audience write questions on small pieces of paper, burns them in a bowl, then "reads" the messages from the great beyond and answers them--actually, the questions are dumped from the bottom of the bowl to Jenkins, sitting under the stage, who transmits the questions to William, wearing earphones in his turban. This is fun to watch for a while, especially when they trick a small-town sheriff who wants to run them out but ends up a big fan. But soon, William falls for young Constance Cummings and she forces him to go straight. Life as a door-to-door salesman doesn't work out and, behind Cummings' back, William goes back to the mind-reading biz, getting some high society women as clients. When distraught Mayo Methot throws herself down an elevator shaft as a result of William's doings, everything goes downhill until William winds up on the run from a murder charge. William is at his best in an onstage drunken breakdown late in the film. Jenkins is good, as is Clarence Muse as another assistant. Clara Blandick (OZ's Auntie Em) has a small role. Jenkins has the movie's final line, a humorous reference to the end of Prohibition. [TCM]
Saturday, April 09, 2005
DANGEROUSLY THEY LIVE (1942)
This wartime propaganda thriller is OK, but it feels like a rehash of 3 or 4 other movies of its kind with nothing new added to make it stand out. Actually, I had some fun imagining it as a Nurse Sara Keate movie (see MYSTERY HOUSE, my April 2 review), only instead of Ann Sheridan, we get John Garfield. The movie opens with Nancy Coleman, a British spy, heading off in a cab to deliver important information to her superiors. The cab driver, working for a ring of Nazis, attempts to kidnap her, but instead they get into an accident and she is taken to a hospital where she comes under the care of intern John Garfield. She has temporary amnesia, recovers quickly, but decides to keep up the act when one of the Nazis (Moroni Olsen) arrives at the hospital claiming to be her father. She agrees to go off to Olsen's estate, taking Garfield with her. She confides in Garfield and, though he is skeptical at first, he is soon convinced that they are in fact being held prisoner in the house until the Nazis can figure out if she's faking or not. A former teacher of Garfield's, notable psychiatrist Raymond Massey, is called in on the case--Coleman assumes he's a spy too, but Garfield can't believe it. Of course, Massey is too sinister looking *not* to be a spy, and soon Garfield and Coleman fear for their lives. The story builds nicely, although too much screen time is spent establishing the prisoner status of the two leads. There must have been a fair amount of pre-release editing; John Ridgely gets seventh billing but is only seen fleetingly in the first few minutes of the film. Another actor, Matthew Boulton, is given screen credit but never seen at all. The "old dark house" elements that might have given this movie more atmosphere are spoiled as the house is not nearly as old or dark as it should have been. Still, it's worth watching for Garfield and Massey, and to see how the amnesia plotline works out. Also with Lee Patrick as a nurse and Frank Reicher as a creepy butler. [TCM]
This wartime propaganda thriller is OK, but it feels like a rehash of 3 or 4 other movies of its kind with nothing new added to make it stand out. Actually, I had some fun imagining it as a Nurse Sara Keate movie (see MYSTERY HOUSE, my April 2 review), only instead of Ann Sheridan, we get John Garfield. The movie opens with Nancy Coleman, a British spy, heading off in a cab to deliver important information to her superiors. The cab driver, working for a ring of Nazis, attempts to kidnap her, but instead they get into an accident and she is taken to a hospital where she comes under the care of intern John Garfield. She has temporary amnesia, recovers quickly, but decides to keep up the act when one of the Nazis (Moroni Olsen) arrives at the hospital claiming to be her father. She agrees to go off to Olsen's estate, taking Garfield with her. She confides in Garfield and, though he is skeptical at first, he is soon convinced that they are in fact being held prisoner in the house until the Nazis can figure out if she's faking or not. A former teacher of Garfield's, notable psychiatrist Raymond Massey, is called in on the case--Coleman assumes he's a spy too, but Garfield can't believe it. Of course, Massey is too sinister looking *not* to be a spy, and soon Garfield and Coleman fear for their lives. The story builds nicely, although too much screen time is spent establishing the prisoner status of the two leads. There must have been a fair amount of pre-release editing; John Ridgely gets seventh billing but is only seen fleetingly in the first few minutes of the film. Another actor, Matthew Boulton, is given screen credit but never seen at all. The "old dark house" elements that might have given this movie more atmosphere are spoiled as the house is not nearly as old or dark as it should have been. Still, it's worth watching for Garfield and Massey, and to see how the amnesia plotline works out. Also with Lee Patrick as a nurse and Frank Reicher as a creepy butler. [TCM]
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
THREE COINS IN THE FOUNTAIN (1954)
How this piece of drippy romantic pap ever got nominated for an Academy Award for best picture is beyond me. It won an Oscar for cinematography, which is at least vaguely understandable since the Cinemascope compositions, many of which were shot on location, are lovely to look at. But what you have to watch and listen to while enjoying the scenery is pretty dreadful. Maggie McNamara plays a young woman newly arrived in Rome to take a job as a secretary, replacing Jean Peters, who will be going back to the States in a few days. The two room with the slightly older and wiser Dorothy McGuire, herself a secretary to a famous writer (Clifton Webb)--think of the relationship between Bette Davis and Monty Woolley in THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER, but with virtually no charm, chemistry, or wit. We follow the women's romantic complications as they play out over several days. Peters defies company policy and dates local translator Rosanno Brazzi, leading to his dismissal; they live "in sin" for a day and a half or so, but Brazzi won't commit to her because he's lost his job and cannot support her. McNamara gets an itch for a handsome playboy prince (Louis Jourdan) and pretends to have lots in common with him in order to get him interested in her. McGuire, supposedly a drab old maid, but looking only a couple of years older and just a tiny bit less lovely than Peters, has pined away for Webb for years and her decision to leave him to go back the U.S. pushes the effete Webb, who discovers he only has a short while left to live, into proposing a marriage of friendship (the character is not officially "gay," but, c'mon, it's Clifton Webb!). All three relationships seem headed for disaster, but in a truly dopey and completely unexplained ending, all three women get the men they want, and apparently get to stay in photogenic Rome as a bonus. The acting is OK, with McGuire and Jourdan taking top honors, but it's the slipshod writing that sinks the movie. Almost nothing that happens rings true to life, and the "fairy tale" aspects of McNamara's story are particularly badly handled. When they all meet at the famous fountain of Trevi in the last scene, we have no idea why everything is suddenly working out for them, when just a few hours before, they were all practically ready to throw themselves off of balconies. Good looking, but empty headed, and a waste of the talented McGuire and the sexy Jourdan. [FMC]
How this piece of drippy romantic pap ever got nominated for an Academy Award for best picture is beyond me. It won an Oscar for cinematography, which is at least vaguely understandable since the Cinemascope compositions, many of which were shot on location, are lovely to look at. But what you have to watch and listen to while enjoying the scenery is pretty dreadful. Maggie McNamara plays a young woman newly arrived in Rome to take a job as a secretary, replacing Jean Peters, who will be going back to the States in a few days. The two room with the slightly older and wiser Dorothy McGuire, herself a secretary to a famous writer (Clifton Webb)--think of the relationship between Bette Davis and Monty Woolley in THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER, but with virtually no charm, chemistry, or wit. We follow the women's romantic complications as they play out over several days. Peters defies company policy and dates local translator Rosanno Brazzi, leading to his dismissal; they live "in sin" for a day and a half or so, but Brazzi won't commit to her because he's lost his job and cannot support her. McNamara gets an itch for a handsome playboy prince (Louis Jourdan) and pretends to have lots in common with him in order to get him interested in her. McGuire, supposedly a drab old maid, but looking only a couple of years older and just a tiny bit less lovely than Peters, has pined away for Webb for years and her decision to leave him to go back the U.S. pushes the effete Webb, who discovers he only has a short while left to live, into proposing a marriage of friendship (the character is not officially "gay," but, c'mon, it's Clifton Webb!). All three relationships seem headed for disaster, but in a truly dopey and completely unexplained ending, all three women get the men they want, and apparently get to stay in photogenic Rome as a bonus. The acting is OK, with McGuire and Jourdan taking top honors, but it's the slipshod writing that sinks the movie. Almost nothing that happens rings true to life, and the "fairy tale" aspects of McNamara's story are particularly badly handled. When they all meet at the famous fountain of Trevi in the last scene, we have no idea why everything is suddenly working out for them, when just a few hours before, they were all practically ready to throw themselves off of balconies. Good looking, but empty headed, and a waste of the talented McGuire and the sexy Jourdan. [FMC]
Saturday, April 02, 2005
MYSTERY HOUSE (1938)
The fourth and final B-mystery featuring nurse Sarah Keate, creation of writer Mignon Eberhart, played here by Ann Sheridan. This is the weakest of the batch, though it has a promising set-up. During a getaway weekend at his hunting lodge, businessman Eric Stanley breaks the news to his partners that he will need to use their personal securities to shore up the company; this news doesn't sit well with a couple of the younger partners (William Hopper and Anthony Averill) and that night, Stanley is found dead in his room, apparently a suicide--though we know that he was shot by someone else and the gun planted in his hand later. Sheridan, present at the lodge as nurse to Stanley's aged aunt (Elspeth Dudgeon), is asked by Stanley's niece to call in her detective boyfriend, Lance O'Leary (Dick Purcell). When all the relatives and guests are gathered at the lodge again, Purcell and Sheridan do some sleuthing and, during a snowstorm that keeps everyone from leaving the property, they discover who the guilty party is, but not before the body count rises. The snowbound element has some potential, but is mostly wasted, and a needed mood of gloom and doom is never developed very well--the lighting is much too bright and the sets too sparse. Purcell is the weakest male lead of the four (in previous movies, the boyfriend was played by Guy Kibbee, Patric Knowles, and Lyle Talbot) and one of the biggest reasons this short hour-long film feels too long. Sheridan is fine but doesn't have enough to do. Dudgeon is good but the rest are merely serviceable. Only true-blue Nurse Sarah fans will need to see this one: the others are mentioned in my review of WHILE THE PATIENT SLEPT. [TCM]
The fourth and final B-mystery featuring nurse Sarah Keate, creation of writer Mignon Eberhart, played here by Ann Sheridan. This is the weakest of the batch, though it has a promising set-up. During a getaway weekend at his hunting lodge, businessman Eric Stanley breaks the news to his partners that he will need to use their personal securities to shore up the company; this news doesn't sit well with a couple of the younger partners (William Hopper and Anthony Averill) and that night, Stanley is found dead in his room, apparently a suicide--though we know that he was shot by someone else and the gun planted in his hand later. Sheridan, present at the lodge as nurse to Stanley's aged aunt (Elspeth Dudgeon), is asked by Stanley's niece to call in her detective boyfriend, Lance O'Leary (Dick Purcell). When all the relatives and guests are gathered at the lodge again, Purcell and Sheridan do some sleuthing and, during a snowstorm that keeps everyone from leaving the property, they discover who the guilty party is, but not before the body count rises. The snowbound element has some potential, but is mostly wasted, and a needed mood of gloom and doom is never developed very well--the lighting is much too bright and the sets too sparse. Purcell is the weakest male lead of the four (in previous movies, the boyfriend was played by Guy Kibbee, Patric Knowles, and Lyle Talbot) and one of the biggest reasons this short hour-long film feels too long. Sheridan is fine but doesn't have enough to do. Dudgeon is good but the rest are merely serviceable. Only true-blue Nurse Sarah fans will need to see this one: the others are mentioned in my review of WHILE THE PATIENT SLEPT. [TCM]
Thursday, March 31, 2005
THEY MADE ME A CRIMINAL (1939)
It was startling enough to discover that John Garfield's first starring role was in a movie with the Dead End Kids, but I was even more surprised to find that it's quite an enjoyable little movie. Garfield is a boxer who has the public persona of a pure and innocent mama's boy but in reality is something of a low-life who drinks and hangs out with thugs and sluts. After celebrating a win in the ring, Garfield gets in a drunken fight, passes out, and wakes up the next morning believing he is responsible for a killing. He is presumed dead in a car wreck and hightails it out of the big city, changing his name and winding up as a drifter out West on a "reform school" farm run by Gloria Dickson and her aging mother, May Robson. Dickson's kid brother (Billy Halop) and his fellow ruffians (the Dead End Kids) idolize Garfield as he becomes a stabilizing older-brother figure to them. Garfield enters an amateur boxing event to win money so Dickson can buy a gas station to supplement the income from her struggling farm, but a picture of him is published in the newspapers and a cop from back East (Claude Rains) who all along never believed that Garfield was really dead comes nosing around, ready to nab him on murder charges if he steps into the ring. Will Garfield skip out on the kids and a chance to be a good guy, or will he do the noble self-sacrificing thing and risk arrest? From the above plot outline, you can easily see the potential for cliche situations, but the characters are given interesting shades by the writers and actors and the film keeps moving along nicely. As the leading lady, Dickson is a bit of a letdown, but Garfield is sexy, as is Ann Sheridan who has a criminally small role as Garfield's tart in the opening scenes. Halop and the other kids (including Leo Gorcey and Huntz Hall) are all quite convincing and Robson is her usual fun "spunky old lady" self. Bizarrely, the weak link in the proceedings is the usually top-notch Claude Rains--he is terribly miscast in his relatively small role as a rumpled cop and seems to have just given up on trying to give any color at all to his character. Also with Ward Bond and Warners' supporting stalwarts John Ridegly and Louis Jean Heydt. Highlight scenes include a strip poker game aimed at getting money out of a rich kid and a long sequence in which Garfield and the kids, who have gone swimming in a giant irrigating water tank, are stranded when the water level falls. [TCM]
It was startling enough to discover that John Garfield's first starring role was in a movie with the Dead End Kids, but I was even more surprised to find that it's quite an enjoyable little movie. Garfield is a boxer who has the public persona of a pure and innocent mama's boy but in reality is something of a low-life who drinks and hangs out with thugs and sluts. After celebrating a win in the ring, Garfield gets in a drunken fight, passes out, and wakes up the next morning believing he is responsible for a killing. He is presumed dead in a car wreck and hightails it out of the big city, changing his name and winding up as a drifter out West on a "reform school" farm run by Gloria Dickson and her aging mother, May Robson. Dickson's kid brother (Billy Halop) and his fellow ruffians (the Dead End Kids) idolize Garfield as he becomes a stabilizing older-brother figure to them. Garfield enters an amateur boxing event to win money so Dickson can buy a gas station to supplement the income from her struggling farm, but a picture of him is published in the newspapers and a cop from back East (Claude Rains) who all along never believed that Garfield was really dead comes nosing around, ready to nab him on murder charges if he steps into the ring. Will Garfield skip out on the kids and a chance to be a good guy, or will he do the noble self-sacrificing thing and risk arrest? From the above plot outline, you can easily see the potential for cliche situations, but the characters are given interesting shades by the writers and actors and the film keeps moving along nicely. As the leading lady, Dickson is a bit of a letdown, but Garfield is sexy, as is Ann Sheridan who has a criminally small role as Garfield's tart in the opening scenes. Halop and the other kids (including Leo Gorcey and Huntz Hall) are all quite convincing and Robson is her usual fun "spunky old lady" self. Bizarrely, the weak link in the proceedings is the usually top-notch Claude Rains--he is terribly miscast in his relatively small role as a rumpled cop and seems to have just given up on trying to give any color at all to his character. Also with Ward Bond and Warners' supporting stalwarts John Ridegly and Louis Jean Heydt. Highlight scenes include a strip poker game aimed at getting money out of a rich kid and a long sequence in which Garfield and the kids, who have gone swimming in a giant irrigating water tank, are stranded when the water level falls. [TCM]
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