SANTA FE TRAIL (1940)
Despite the title, this isn't really a western, but a historical drama about cavalry men Jeb Stuart (Errol Flynn) and George Custer (Ronald Reagan) and their pursuit of activist abolitionist John Brown (Raymond Massey). All these characters are based on real people, but I must admit I know next to nothing about the Civil War era so I can't judge how accurate the storyline is or how closely the characters hew to the historical figures--knowing Hollywood, I assume little fidelity. We first meet Flynn and Reagan as fresh West Point graduates when they get into a fight with fellow cadet Van Heflin over the abolition movement; Heflin is a follower of John Brown, a religious fanatic who wants the slaves freed immediately even if it involves widespread bloodshed. Heflin is discharged and joins up with Brown; Flynn and Reagan wind up stationed in Kansas, which is split over the issue of whether or not to enter the Union as a slave state. Brown is violently fomenting dissent and the cavalry is trying to keep things under control. Between run-ins with the Brown clan (including son Gene Reynolds, who winds up on Flynn's side) and his followers, there is time for a typical Hollywood romantic triangle with Flynn and Reagan vying for the hand of Olivia de Havilland, daughter of the man who hopes to establish a safe passage to Santa Fe (hence the rather misleading title). There is comic relief with Alan Hale and Guinn Williams as wagon train workers who quite improbably join up with the cavalry. The politics of the situation are handled delicately and therefore confusingly: Brown is portrayed as a crazy killer who, when he is able to free slaves, basically leaves them high and dry, but de Havilland speaks a few words in defense of the man, saying that he has "great and good reasons" for his actions; our heroes aren't allowed to express many political opinions, but do note that abolition must come gradually and peacefully rather than suddenly and violently. In trying to offend no one, the movie muddles its politics and history beyond repair. But taken as a rousing "boy's adventure" movie, it definitely succeeds. Standouts in the large supporting cast include William Lundigan as de Havilland's brother, Henry O'Neill as the father, Ward Bond as an abolitionist, and John Litel as a slaver. The three leads (Flynn, Reagan, and Massey) are fine, but all wind up playing cardboard cut-out versions of historical figures. Given that caveat, I would recommend this to fans of the era's action films. [TCM]
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
PARACHUTE BATTALION (1941)
Released just a few months before Pearl Harbor, this may have been intended as pro-military propaganda, but it works better as a light buddy comedy in the old Cagney/O'Brien tradition. The film follows three men who join the Army's Parachute Corps in Fort Benning, Georgia: Robert Preston is an Ivy League football star, and Buddy Ebsen is a hayseed farmboy, but the focus is on Edmond O'Brien as a young man on the road to alcoholism who joins to get rid of his self-esteem problem; it turns out he's the estranged son of the Corps' commander (Robert Barrat). The three meet and become friends on a train to Fort Benning, where they also have a run-in with their soon-to-be instructor (Harry Carey) and his daughter (Nancy Kelly). O'Brien and Preston become rivals for the hand of Kelly; Carey, all crusty and hard-boiled on the outside, turns out to be mostly a softie who inspires great loyalty among his charges. Richard Cromwell plays a twitchy coward who goes nuts up in the sky just as he's supposed to make his first jump. O'Brien is instrumental in helping Carey handle the situation, but he's also afraid to jump, so the rest of the movie is about how O'Brien gains self-confidence so he can make the jump, regain his father's respect, and get the girl. The performances are fine (and you can see the seed of Prof. Harold Hill in Preston's cocky character) with Paul Kelly providing strong support as Carey's assistant. Nancy Kelly (no relation) is best known as the neurotic mother in THE BAD SEED. Ebsen is his usual gangly self and gets to do a novelty dance to "Turkey in the Straw." The film was shot partly at Fort Benning, and there is plenty of footage of men from the real battalion in parachute action. An RKO B-movie that's almost up to the standard of Warner Brothers. [TCM]
Released just a few months before Pearl Harbor, this may have been intended as pro-military propaganda, but it works better as a light buddy comedy in the old Cagney/O'Brien tradition. The film follows three men who join the Army's Parachute Corps in Fort Benning, Georgia: Robert Preston is an Ivy League football star, and Buddy Ebsen is a hayseed farmboy, but the focus is on Edmond O'Brien as a young man on the road to alcoholism who joins to get rid of his self-esteem problem; it turns out he's the estranged son of the Corps' commander (Robert Barrat). The three meet and become friends on a train to Fort Benning, where they also have a run-in with their soon-to-be instructor (Harry Carey) and his daughter (Nancy Kelly). O'Brien and Preston become rivals for the hand of Kelly; Carey, all crusty and hard-boiled on the outside, turns out to be mostly a softie who inspires great loyalty among his charges. Richard Cromwell plays a twitchy coward who goes nuts up in the sky just as he's supposed to make his first jump. O'Brien is instrumental in helping Carey handle the situation, but he's also afraid to jump, so the rest of the movie is about how O'Brien gains self-confidence so he can make the jump, regain his father's respect, and get the girl. The performances are fine (and you can see the seed of Prof. Harold Hill in Preston's cocky character) with Paul Kelly providing strong support as Carey's assistant. Nancy Kelly (no relation) is best known as the neurotic mother in THE BAD SEED. Ebsen is his usual gangly self and gets to do a novelty dance to "Turkey in the Straw." The film was shot partly at Fort Benning, and there is plenty of footage of men from the real battalion in parachute action. An RKO B-movie that's almost up to the standard of Warner Brothers. [TCM]
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
THE CASINO MURDER CASE (1935)
A slightly better Philo Vance movie than BISHOP. This one has more comedy than most Vance films, which takes some getting used to, but the light tone works. So does the lead performance of Paul Lukas as Vance. Most critics don't like his portrayal, and I agree that his thick Hungarian accent is quite out of place for the New York City playboy that Vance is supposed to be, but he fleshes out the part better than Rathbone did, though he's no William Powell. This time around, Vance is called in to help protect wealthy Donald Cook, who is threatened by letter with death that night if he goes to the family casino. He goes and, despite protection, is poisoned but recovers. However, his wife, an old friend of Vance's who is unhappy in her marriage, is poisoned at the house and dies. There are other deaths and the discovery of suspicious experiments with "heavy water" before Vance solves the case. The supporting cast includes Rosalind Russell, secretary for the family, who becomes both a sidekick and a mild romantic interest for Vance; Alison Skipworth as the family matriarch; Eric Blore as Vance's befuddled butler. Ted Healy does a fine comic turn as a policeman who is always one step behind Vance, and Louise Fazenda and Leo G. Carroll as the maid and butler make positive impressions in their brief time on screen. [TCM]
A slightly better Philo Vance movie than BISHOP. This one has more comedy than most Vance films, which takes some getting used to, but the light tone works. So does the lead performance of Paul Lukas as Vance. Most critics don't like his portrayal, and I agree that his thick Hungarian accent is quite out of place for the New York City playboy that Vance is supposed to be, but he fleshes out the part better than Rathbone did, though he's no William Powell. This time around, Vance is called in to help protect wealthy Donald Cook, who is threatened by letter with death that night if he goes to the family casino. He goes and, despite protection, is poisoned but recovers. However, his wife, an old friend of Vance's who is unhappy in her marriage, is poisoned at the house and dies. There are other deaths and the discovery of suspicious experiments with "heavy water" before Vance solves the case. The supporting cast includes Rosalind Russell, secretary for the family, who becomes both a sidekick and a mild romantic interest for Vance; Alison Skipworth as the family matriarch; Eric Blore as Vance's befuddled butler. Ted Healy does a fine comic turn as a policeman who is always one step behind Vance, and Louise Fazenda and Leo G. Carroll as the maid and butler make positive impressions in their brief time on screen. [TCM]
Sunday, June 19, 2005
THE BISHOP MURDER CASE (1930)
The detective Philo Vance, created by writer S. S. Van Dine, was featured in over a dozen movies from the late 20's through the 40's, but he seems to be the sleuth that time forgot, maybe because so many actors played him with such a wide range of approaches that there was not a consistent portrayal in the public mind. He's a little like the Falcon or Nick Charles (and William Powell did play him early in his career) in that he's a rich man who helps the police track down killers, but no "hook" ever developed (like the Falcon's jewel thief past or Nick's wife Nora) to make him stand out. Nevertheless, many of the Vance movies are fun--though none that I've seen are as good as the books. This one has a fascinating set-up: people who live in the neighborhood of the Dillards are getting bumped off in ways that suggest that nursery rhymes are the inspiration for the dastardly deeds (a young man nicknamed Cock Robin is killed by an arrow and a man dies due to a fall from a wall like Humpty Dumpty), and the killer leaves clues in a series of notes signed The Bishop--is he a religious fanatic or a chess enthusiast? The plot is intriguing and fairly easy to follow, and sticks close to the book. The supporting cast is OK (with Roland Young as the chief suspect and Leila Hyams as the attractive young damsel who winds up in distress) and the directing style is occasionally interesting, especially the presentation of one murder which involves the toppling of a house of cards. However, Basil Rathbone is rather bland as Vance. This may be largely the fault of the writers, but Rathbone doesn't help by sleepwalking through the proceedings. Ironically, Vance is compared at least once in the movie to Sherlock Holmes, the role that Rathbone would make his own a few years later. There are separate credits for "screen direction" and "stage direction" which may explain why the moody non-dialogue scenes work best. The lack of background music doesn't help the static feel of the movie's pace, though the silence is sometimes effective. You will probably guess who the killer is, but the way he meets his fate is surprising. Other Vance movies I've reviewed: THE KENNEL MURDER CASE, THE DRAGON MURDER CASE, and CALLING PHILO VANCE. [TCM]
The detective Philo Vance, created by writer S. S. Van Dine, was featured in over a dozen movies from the late 20's through the 40's, but he seems to be the sleuth that time forgot, maybe because so many actors played him with such a wide range of approaches that there was not a consistent portrayal in the public mind. He's a little like the Falcon or Nick Charles (and William Powell did play him early in his career) in that he's a rich man who helps the police track down killers, but no "hook" ever developed (like the Falcon's jewel thief past or Nick's wife Nora) to make him stand out. Nevertheless, many of the Vance movies are fun--though none that I've seen are as good as the books. This one has a fascinating set-up: people who live in the neighborhood of the Dillards are getting bumped off in ways that suggest that nursery rhymes are the inspiration for the dastardly deeds (a young man nicknamed Cock Robin is killed by an arrow and a man dies due to a fall from a wall like Humpty Dumpty), and the killer leaves clues in a series of notes signed The Bishop--is he a religious fanatic or a chess enthusiast? The plot is intriguing and fairly easy to follow, and sticks close to the book. The supporting cast is OK (with Roland Young as the chief suspect and Leila Hyams as the attractive young damsel who winds up in distress) and the directing style is occasionally interesting, especially the presentation of one murder which involves the toppling of a house of cards. However, Basil Rathbone is rather bland as Vance. This may be largely the fault of the writers, but Rathbone doesn't help by sleepwalking through the proceedings. Ironically, Vance is compared at least once in the movie to Sherlock Holmes, the role that Rathbone would make his own a few years later. There are separate credits for "screen direction" and "stage direction" which may explain why the moody non-dialogue scenes work best. The lack of background music doesn't help the static feel of the movie's pace, though the silence is sometimes effective. You will probably guess who the killer is, but the way he meets his fate is surprising. Other Vance movies I've reviewed: THE KENNEL MURDER CASE, THE DRAGON MURDER CASE, and CALLING PHILO VANCE. [TCM]
Saturday, June 18, 2005
COPACABANA (1947)
With solid mainstream musical performers such as Dennis Morgan or Betty Grable, this B-level showbiz musical might have come off. But instead the more outsized and untamed talents of Groucho Marx and Carmen Miranda are confined by the average material, weak direction, and relatively low budget and it all comes off as a rather sad and dismal affair. Marx and Miranda are a struggling showbiz couple, not married but engaged for years (like Frank Sinatra and Vivian Blaine in GUYS AND DOLLS) and therefore, this being made under the constraints of the Production Code, living in two separate hotel rooms, and about to get evicted from them. Marx decides to retire from performing and serve as Miranda's agent, and he promptly gets her a job as a Latin songbird at the Copacabana. However, there's a hitch: the boss (Steve Cochran) wants a French singer as well, so in order not to blow his cover, Marx has Miranda pose as the veil-wearing Mademoiselle Fifi. Carmen is a success, but Fifi is an even bigger hit, and they must continue the charade to stay employed. Romantic entanglements arise: 1) Cochran is apparently in love with Fifi while, 2) his loyal secretary (Gloria Jean) pines away for Cochran and, 3) singer Andy Russell, who seems incapable of much passion for anyone, is mistaken for an admirer of the secretary. Of course, after some lame attempts at farce and some tepid production numbers, all is righted at the fade out. In the beginning, I was embarrassed for Marx, who seems to know just how far he's sunk, but by the middle, he redeems himself a bit with a brief dual role number; Marx, as the agent, introduces Marx, in his 30's greasepaint-mustache persona, as a comic singer doing the amusing "Go West, Young Man." Miranda is fine; Cochran isn't bad, really, but he was better at the tough guy roles he did later in his career. Russell and Jean are bland as can be and the specialty acts sprinkled through the film are forgettable. Famous gossip columnist Earl Wilson has a cameo. [DVD]
With solid mainstream musical performers such as Dennis Morgan or Betty Grable, this B-level showbiz musical might have come off. But instead the more outsized and untamed talents of Groucho Marx and Carmen Miranda are confined by the average material, weak direction, and relatively low budget and it all comes off as a rather sad and dismal affair. Marx and Miranda are a struggling showbiz couple, not married but engaged for years (like Frank Sinatra and Vivian Blaine in GUYS AND DOLLS) and therefore, this being made under the constraints of the Production Code, living in two separate hotel rooms, and about to get evicted from them. Marx decides to retire from performing and serve as Miranda's agent, and he promptly gets her a job as a Latin songbird at the Copacabana. However, there's a hitch: the boss (Steve Cochran) wants a French singer as well, so in order not to blow his cover, Marx has Miranda pose as the veil-wearing Mademoiselle Fifi. Carmen is a success, but Fifi is an even bigger hit, and they must continue the charade to stay employed. Romantic entanglements arise: 1) Cochran is apparently in love with Fifi while, 2) his loyal secretary (Gloria Jean) pines away for Cochran and, 3) singer Andy Russell, who seems incapable of much passion for anyone, is mistaken for an admirer of the secretary. Of course, after some lame attempts at farce and some tepid production numbers, all is righted at the fade out. In the beginning, I was embarrassed for Marx, who seems to know just how far he's sunk, but by the middle, he redeems himself a bit with a brief dual role number; Marx, as the agent, introduces Marx, in his 30's greasepaint-mustache persona, as a comic singer doing the amusing "Go West, Young Man." Miranda is fine; Cochran isn't bad, really, but he was better at the tough guy roles he did later in his career. Russell and Jean are bland as can be and the specialty acts sprinkled through the film are forgettable. Famous gossip columnist Earl Wilson has a cameo. [DVD]
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
DEVIL'S ISLAND (1939)
As regular readers of this blog know, I am a big fan of the Warner Brothers B-movie unit that cranked out dozens of unpretentious and entertaining low-budget films in the 30's and 40's. This, however, is one of their rare missteps. Usually, these movies which came in at 60 to 75 minutes sped along quite nicely, so that even if the movie had its weak moments, it was easy for the viewer to get past them because a funny or exciting scene was just around the corner. This one is just a smidge over an hour but feels much longer. The story has potential: Boris Karloff is a French brain surgeon who is sentenced to ten years of hard work on Devil's Island, the notorious penal colony in French Guiana in South America. His crime, operating on a mortally wounded criminal, is clearly based on the case of the real-life Dr. Mudd who served jail time for attending to John Wilkes Booth after Lincoln's assassination, and if the movie had delved into the moral ambiguities of such a situation, it might have been more interesting. However, after Karloff is sentenced, the movie becomes a rather static tale of men surviving the best they can under brutal conditions on the island, made worse by the cruel hand of overseer James Stephenson. When an already weak prisoner dies on work detail, Karloff is involved in a small uprising against the guards and the group is sentenced to death; however, when Stephenson's little daughter is badly hurt in an accident, he strikes a deal with Karloff to save their lives if Karloff will operate. Karloff does, but Stephenson reneges on his deal and executes one of the men. A daring escape follows, with the men helped by Stephenson's wife (Nedda Harrigan) who feels her husband has become too tyrannical. In the end, Karloff is saved and Stephenson is arrested on corruption charges. The story proceeds in predictable steps, with little humor and even less real excitement. Karloff and Stephenson are OK, but the supporting cast (which is often the saving grace of many a B-film) is completely unmemorable. The main musical theme is haunting the first five or six times it's heard, but by time 20, it's irritating. Not exactly terrible, but difficult to recommend. [TCM]
As regular readers of this blog know, I am a big fan of the Warner Brothers B-movie unit that cranked out dozens of unpretentious and entertaining low-budget films in the 30's and 40's. This, however, is one of their rare missteps. Usually, these movies which came in at 60 to 75 minutes sped along quite nicely, so that even if the movie had its weak moments, it was easy for the viewer to get past them because a funny or exciting scene was just around the corner. This one is just a smidge over an hour but feels much longer. The story has potential: Boris Karloff is a French brain surgeon who is sentenced to ten years of hard work on Devil's Island, the notorious penal colony in French Guiana in South America. His crime, operating on a mortally wounded criminal, is clearly based on the case of the real-life Dr. Mudd who served jail time for attending to John Wilkes Booth after Lincoln's assassination, and if the movie had delved into the moral ambiguities of such a situation, it might have been more interesting. However, after Karloff is sentenced, the movie becomes a rather static tale of men surviving the best they can under brutal conditions on the island, made worse by the cruel hand of overseer James Stephenson. When an already weak prisoner dies on work detail, Karloff is involved in a small uprising against the guards and the group is sentenced to death; however, when Stephenson's little daughter is badly hurt in an accident, he strikes a deal with Karloff to save their lives if Karloff will operate. Karloff does, but Stephenson reneges on his deal and executes one of the men. A daring escape follows, with the men helped by Stephenson's wife (Nedda Harrigan) who feels her husband has become too tyrannical. In the end, Karloff is saved and Stephenson is arrested on corruption charges. The story proceeds in predictable steps, with little humor and even less real excitement. Karloff and Stephenson are OK, but the supporting cast (which is often the saving grace of many a B-film) is completely unmemorable. The main musical theme is haunting the first five or six times it's heard, but by time 20, it's irritating. Not exactly terrible, but difficult to recommend. [TCM]
Saturday, June 11, 2005
THE SPORT PARADE (1932)
This little-known film is built on the warhorse narrative frame of a romantic triangle between two close buddies and the girl who threatens to tear apart their friendship. However, the acting and the directorial style (not to mention the youthful pulchritude of leading man Joel McCrea) make this one stand out. McCrea and William Gargan play college friends and teammates on Dartmouth's winning football team. After graduation, Gargan goes the traditional career route and becomes a sports writer. McCrea, however, is seduced by promises of quick money (made by the comically shady Walter Catlett) to be garnered through endorsements and public appearances. Within two years, McCrea is out of work and reduced to hocking his gold football pin for a plane ticket to make a nostalgic visit to the latest Dartmouth game. The two old friends meet by accident and Gargan gets McCrea a job writing a joint column with him for the sports page. Soon, Marian Marsh, Gargan's unenthusiastic squeeze, gets the hots for McCrea and vice versa, which leads to a nasty split between the two pals. McCrea goes back to Catlett and forges a name in pro wrestling, but faces a dilemma when he is asked to take a dive with Gargan and Marsh in the audience. Will he do the right thing?
Given wrestling's reputation, it's hard to care much about the ethical fine points of the sport, but the climactic match is well shot and even works up a little suspense. In fact, the director, Dudley Murphy, best known for co-directing the avant-garde short "Ballet Mecanique" in 1924, makes the entire movie (nicely paced at just over an hour) fun to watch, with fluid camerawork and tricky shots abounding. McCrea, shirtless and provocatively posed in the boxing ring and in an early locker-room scene, is very good, as is Gargan, who isn't bad looking himself. Sturdy support is offered by Catlett, Skeets Gallagher as a sight-challenged photographer who accidentally gets the shot of a lifetime at a car race, and the always amusing Robert Benchley as an inept (and sometimes inebriated) sports announcer. The passive, wooden Marsh is the only disappointment in the cast. Film buffs will enjoy seeing Clarence Wilson and George Chandler in small roles. This early David Selznick production isn't much loved by the critics, but if it ever shows up again on Turner Classic, it's worth a look. [TCM]
This little-known film is built on the warhorse narrative frame of a romantic triangle between two close buddies and the girl who threatens to tear apart their friendship. However, the acting and the directorial style (not to mention the youthful pulchritude of leading man Joel McCrea) make this one stand out. McCrea and William Gargan play college friends and teammates on Dartmouth's winning football team. After graduation, Gargan goes the traditional career route and becomes a sports writer. McCrea, however, is seduced by promises of quick money (made by the comically shady Walter Catlett) to be garnered through endorsements and public appearances. Within two years, McCrea is out of work and reduced to hocking his gold football pin for a plane ticket to make a nostalgic visit to the latest Dartmouth game. The two old friends meet by accident and Gargan gets McCrea a job writing a joint column with him for the sports page. Soon, Marian Marsh, Gargan's unenthusiastic squeeze, gets the hots for McCrea and vice versa, which leads to a nasty split between the two pals. McCrea goes back to Catlett and forges a name in pro wrestling, but faces a dilemma when he is asked to take a dive with Gargan and Marsh in the audience. Will he do the right thing?
Given wrestling's reputation, it's hard to care much about the ethical fine points of the sport, but the climactic match is well shot and even works up a little suspense. In fact, the director, Dudley Murphy, best known for co-directing the avant-garde short "Ballet Mecanique" in 1924, makes the entire movie (nicely paced at just over an hour) fun to watch, with fluid camerawork and tricky shots abounding. McCrea, shirtless and provocatively posed in the boxing ring and in an early locker-room scene, is very good, as is Gargan, who isn't bad looking himself. Sturdy support is offered by Catlett, Skeets Gallagher as a sight-challenged photographer who accidentally gets the shot of a lifetime at a car race, and the always amusing Robert Benchley as an inept (and sometimes inebriated) sports announcer. The passive, wooden Marsh is the only disappointment in the cast. Film buffs will enjoy seeing Clarence Wilson and George Chandler in small roles. This early David Selznick production isn't much loved by the critics, but if it ever shows up again on Turner Classic, it's worth a look. [TCM]
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
THE DEVIL'S IN LOVE (1933)
An odd little Foreign Legion melodrama which might have had worked better with more exotic personalities in the lead roles. Victor Jory is a doctor at a Legion post; after he treats the much-despised commander (Robert Barrat) for heartburn, the commander is found dead the next morning and Jory is accused of murder. Jory's friend and fellow legionnaire David Manners knows that Jory couldn't have done it--and we know that Barrat's servant (J. Carrol Naish) did it--and when Jory is sentenced to death, Manners helps Jory escape. He winds up under an assumed name, taking care of outcasts at Fort Zamba, and falls in love with Loretta Young, niece of the local missionary. As it happens, Young is Manners' girlfriend, and things come to a head when police chief C. Henry Gordon figures out that Jory is a fugitive; Jory winds up back at Manners' fort, risking his freedom by treating the men for a deadly fever. Together, Manners and Jory trick the real killer into thinking he's dying of the fever so he'll confess to the crime. On top of this, the fort is under attack, and Young winds up in the midst of it all. There's a happy ending for Jory, a less happy one for Manners. Jory is not leading man material and, though he's not bad, he doesn't have the charm or appeal that someone like Douglas Fairbanks or Gary Cooper would have brought to the role. Young and Manners are fine, and it's nice to see Bela Lugosi in a non-horror role as a military prosecutor. Herbert Mundin is a comic relief sidekick, but I kept wishing Frank McHugh had the part instead. When you spend much of the movie imagining other actors in major roles, you know there's a problem. BTW, the title is meaningless. [FMC]
An odd little Foreign Legion melodrama which might have had worked better with more exotic personalities in the lead roles. Victor Jory is a doctor at a Legion post; after he treats the much-despised commander (Robert Barrat) for heartburn, the commander is found dead the next morning and Jory is accused of murder. Jory's friend and fellow legionnaire David Manners knows that Jory couldn't have done it--and we know that Barrat's servant (J. Carrol Naish) did it--and when Jory is sentenced to death, Manners helps Jory escape. He winds up under an assumed name, taking care of outcasts at Fort Zamba, and falls in love with Loretta Young, niece of the local missionary. As it happens, Young is Manners' girlfriend, and things come to a head when police chief C. Henry Gordon figures out that Jory is a fugitive; Jory winds up back at Manners' fort, risking his freedom by treating the men for a deadly fever. Together, Manners and Jory trick the real killer into thinking he's dying of the fever so he'll confess to the crime. On top of this, the fort is under attack, and Young winds up in the midst of it all. There's a happy ending for Jory, a less happy one for Manners. Jory is not leading man material and, though he's not bad, he doesn't have the charm or appeal that someone like Douglas Fairbanks or Gary Cooper would have brought to the role. Young and Manners are fine, and it's nice to see Bela Lugosi in a non-horror role as a military prosecutor. Herbert Mundin is a comic relief sidekick, but I kept wishing Frank McHugh had the part instead. When you spend much of the movie imagining other actors in major roles, you know there's a problem. BTW, the title is meaningless. [FMC]
Monday, June 06, 2005
WANTED: JANE TURNER (1936)
No one could beat Warner Brothers as putting together solid, entertaining B-movies. This RKO entry helps prove that point. Lee Tracy and Gloria Stuart are postal service inspectors who are assigned to crack a case involving a group of mail thieves who have murdered a driver and stolen some money. The money is sent from New York to Los Angeles to a Jane Turner, in care of General Delivery; Tracy and Stuart track the letter and Stuart follows Turner when she picks it up, hoping she will lead them to the big boss (Paul Guilfoyle, father of the actor who plays Brass on TV's "C.S.I."), but it turns out that this Jane Turner is not a gangster's moll but a woman whose boyfriend's job is in trouble because of financial irregularities. She wants to use the money to save his job. Meanwhile, the fake Jane Turner shows up at the post office, and Tracy snags her and one of her accomplices. Eventually, the bad guys are led to the real Jane Turner's apartment where the relatively exciting climax occurs. I don't typically care much for Lee Tracy (an understatement), but he is not as offensively shrill and grating as usual here. Gloria Stuart is quite good (and quite lovely) in her role. The two are intended to have some screwballish appeal as a couple who, despite surface antagonism, are attracted to each other, and they have some fun moments, but overall, I don't really buy it. Had this been a Warners movie, the writing would have been a little stronger (and the sets wouldn't have looked so cheap) and it would have worked better overall. I like the throwing-in of two subplots. One involves the very funny vaudeville actress Irene Franklin as one member of a team of ladies who are running a fake mail-order bride scheme; Dick Elliot (the mayor of Mayberry in the early Andy Griffith shows) is a rustic sheepherder who shows up to make Franklin make good on her promise. The other plotline has Tracy turn all sensitive as he gives money to an old man who haunts General Delivery waiting for financial help from his son, who seems to have forgotten all about his dad. Barbara Pepper, who later played Doris Ziffel on "Green Acres," also appears. Not too bad, but considering it's only 65 minutes, it felt a little long. Still, I'm glad to have seen it for a chance to see Gloria Stuart--she's been so good in everything I've seen her in, I have to wonder why she got stuck in B-movies and supporting parts, until her comeback in TITANIC. [TCM]
No one could beat Warner Brothers as putting together solid, entertaining B-movies. This RKO entry helps prove that point. Lee Tracy and Gloria Stuart are postal service inspectors who are assigned to crack a case involving a group of mail thieves who have murdered a driver and stolen some money. The money is sent from New York to Los Angeles to a Jane Turner, in care of General Delivery; Tracy and Stuart track the letter and Stuart follows Turner when she picks it up, hoping she will lead them to the big boss (Paul Guilfoyle, father of the actor who plays Brass on TV's "C.S.I."), but it turns out that this Jane Turner is not a gangster's moll but a woman whose boyfriend's job is in trouble because of financial irregularities. She wants to use the money to save his job. Meanwhile, the fake Jane Turner shows up at the post office, and Tracy snags her and one of her accomplices. Eventually, the bad guys are led to the real Jane Turner's apartment where the relatively exciting climax occurs. I don't typically care much for Lee Tracy (an understatement), but he is not as offensively shrill and grating as usual here. Gloria Stuart is quite good (and quite lovely) in her role. The two are intended to have some screwballish appeal as a couple who, despite surface antagonism, are attracted to each other, and they have some fun moments, but overall, I don't really buy it. Had this been a Warners movie, the writing would have been a little stronger (and the sets wouldn't have looked so cheap) and it would have worked better overall. I like the throwing-in of two subplots. One involves the very funny vaudeville actress Irene Franklin as one member of a team of ladies who are running a fake mail-order bride scheme; Dick Elliot (the mayor of Mayberry in the early Andy Griffith shows) is a rustic sheepherder who shows up to make Franklin make good on her promise. The other plotline has Tracy turn all sensitive as he gives money to an old man who haunts General Delivery waiting for financial help from his son, who seems to have forgotten all about his dad. Barbara Pepper, who later played Doris Ziffel on "Green Acres," also appears. Not too bad, but considering it's only 65 minutes, it felt a little long. Still, I'm glad to have seen it for a chance to see Gloria Stuart--she's been so good in everything I've seen her in, I have to wonder why she got stuck in B-movies and supporting parts, until her comeback in TITANIC. [TCM]
Friday, June 03, 2005
A CHILD IS BORN (1939)
A B-movie remake of LIFE BEGINS. The plot is identical to the original, so I can essentially just paste in my review of the original movie and change the names of the actors: Gale Page presides over a ward of "problem" maternity cases. First and foremost is convicted killer Geraldine Fitzgerald, brought to the ward in handcuffs; her boyish husband, Jeffrey Lynn, is nervous (and not quite as hysterical as Eric Linden was in the original) and though the cops don't want him staying with her, he manages to sneak in a couple of times. Other expectant mothers in the ward include Spring Byington, an old pro at childbirth with six previous kids, and Gladys George as a crusty vaudeville performer who is expecting twins and doesn't want to keep them. Before she gives birth, she finds out she's been dumped by her partner. She puts gin in her "candy" box, gets drunk, and behaves callously toward Fitzgerald, but by the end of the movie, she gets all nurturing and decide to keep the kids. Fay Helm is a psycho case who wanders through the wards, stealing babies. Johnnie Davis is a nervous father sent off on a fool's errand (to buy a can of "Twilight Sleep") to keep him out of the nurses' hair. Others in the large supporting cast include Eve Arden as a nurse, Henry O'Neill and John Litel as doctors, Gloria Holden as a woman with a problem delivery, and Nanette Fabray & Johnny Downs as a young couple whose families disapprove of their marriage. As in the original, none of the mothers look at all pregnant (an onscreen taboo of the era, I guess). Fitzgerald and Lynn are a letdown as the leads, but George, Davis, Byington, and Arden are all fun to watch. Overall, I'd have to recommend the 1932 version over this one, though this is certainly tolerable. [TCM]
A B-movie remake of LIFE BEGINS. The plot is identical to the original, so I can essentially just paste in my review of the original movie and change the names of the actors: Gale Page presides over a ward of "problem" maternity cases. First and foremost is convicted killer Geraldine Fitzgerald, brought to the ward in handcuffs; her boyish husband, Jeffrey Lynn, is nervous (and not quite as hysterical as Eric Linden was in the original) and though the cops don't want him staying with her, he manages to sneak in a couple of times. Other expectant mothers in the ward include Spring Byington, an old pro at childbirth with six previous kids, and Gladys George as a crusty vaudeville performer who is expecting twins and doesn't want to keep them. Before she gives birth, she finds out she's been dumped by her partner. She puts gin in her "candy" box, gets drunk, and behaves callously toward Fitzgerald, but by the end of the movie, she gets all nurturing and decide to keep the kids. Fay Helm is a psycho case who wanders through the wards, stealing babies. Johnnie Davis is a nervous father sent off on a fool's errand (to buy a can of "Twilight Sleep") to keep him out of the nurses' hair. Others in the large supporting cast include Eve Arden as a nurse, Henry O'Neill and John Litel as doctors, Gloria Holden as a woman with a problem delivery, and Nanette Fabray & Johnny Downs as a young couple whose families disapprove of their marriage. As in the original, none of the mothers look at all pregnant (an onscreen taboo of the era, I guess). Fitzgerald and Lynn are a letdown as the leads, but George, Davis, Byington, and Arden are all fun to watch. Overall, I'd have to recommend the 1932 version over this one, though this is certainly tolerable. [TCM]
Monday, May 30, 2005
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]
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]
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]
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