Paul Cavanagh is going to Bombay for a year on business, and is sure that his wife (Kay Francis) couldn't take "the rotten food, the natives," and the general lack of civilization, so he sends her off to Paris, despite the warnings of his snooty, meddling spinster sister who doesn’t think Francis can be trusted. Sure enough, while in Paris, Francis begins an affair with a Spanish Don (Ricardo Cortez, pictured)--we're told it's platonic, but I don't really buy that. At the end of the year, she wants to break things off, but Cavanagh arrives in Paris a little ahead of schedule and complains about how "sophisticated" she's become (wearing make-up and all) and gives her a week to say goodbye to her friends and join him back in London. She goes to Cortez's house in Spain, expecting there to be a farewell party, but he tricks her and she's alone with him on a stormy night. He pours on all his oily charm to get her to leave her husband; she ends up writing Cavanagh a letter to that effect, but just after it's mailed, Cortez's nemesis, a man whose teenage daughter was seduced and abandoned by Cortez years ago, arrives and shoots Cortez dead. Can Francis get to London and intercept the letter before Cavanagh or his sister read it? This pre-Code melodrama feels quite creaky now, though it may have played very well back then. It seems completely unbelievable that Francis and Cortez would have been flirting for a whole year without at least a little heavy canoodling. Though I like both actors, they don't have a lot of chemistry together. The twist of the murderous intruder is set up very briefly with an obscure reference to some homeland troubles during one of the Paris scenes, but it's still a rather outlandish plot device. Not one of Francis's better vehicles. [TCM]
Saturday, February 28, 2009
TRANSGRESSION (1931)
Paul Cavanagh is going to Bombay for a year on business, and is sure that his wife (Kay Francis) couldn't take "the rotten food, the natives," and the general lack of civilization, so he sends her off to Paris, despite the warnings of his snooty, meddling spinster sister who doesn’t think Francis can be trusted. Sure enough, while in Paris, Francis begins an affair with a Spanish Don (Ricardo Cortez, pictured)--we're told it's platonic, but I don't really buy that. At the end of the year, she wants to break things off, but Cavanagh arrives in Paris a little ahead of schedule and complains about how "sophisticated" she's become (wearing make-up and all) and gives her a week to say goodbye to her friends and join him back in London. She goes to Cortez's house in Spain, expecting there to be a farewell party, but he tricks her and she's alone with him on a stormy night. He pours on all his oily charm to get her to leave her husband; she ends up writing Cavanagh a letter to that effect, but just after it's mailed, Cortez's nemesis, a man whose teenage daughter was seduced and abandoned by Cortez years ago, arrives and shoots Cortez dead. Can Francis get to London and intercept the letter before Cavanagh or his sister read it? This pre-Code melodrama feels quite creaky now, though it may have played very well back then. It seems completely unbelievable that Francis and Cortez would have been flirting for a whole year without at least a little heavy canoodling. Though I like both actors, they don't have a lot of chemistry together. The twist of the murderous intruder is set up very briefly with an obscure reference to some homeland troubles during one of the Paris scenes, but it's still a rather outlandish plot device. Not one of Francis's better vehicles. [TCM]
Paul Cavanagh is going to Bombay for a year on business, and is sure that his wife (Kay Francis) couldn't take "the rotten food, the natives," and the general lack of civilization, so he sends her off to Paris, despite the warnings of his snooty, meddling spinster sister who doesn’t think Francis can be trusted. Sure enough, while in Paris, Francis begins an affair with a Spanish Don (Ricardo Cortez, pictured)--we're told it's platonic, but I don't really buy that. At the end of the year, she wants to break things off, but Cavanagh arrives in Paris a little ahead of schedule and complains about how "sophisticated" she's become (wearing make-up and all) and gives her a week to say goodbye to her friends and join him back in London. She goes to Cortez's house in Spain, expecting there to be a farewell party, but he tricks her and she's alone with him on a stormy night. He pours on all his oily charm to get her to leave her husband; she ends up writing Cavanagh a letter to that effect, but just after it's mailed, Cortez's nemesis, a man whose teenage daughter was seduced and abandoned by Cortez years ago, arrives and shoots Cortez dead. Can Francis get to London and intercept the letter before Cavanagh or his sister read it? This pre-Code melodrama feels quite creaky now, though it may have played very well back then. It seems completely unbelievable that Francis and Cortez would have been flirting for a whole year without at least a little heavy canoodling. Though I like both actors, they don't have a lot of chemistry together. The twist of the murderous intruder is set up very briefly with an obscure reference to some homeland troubles during one of the Paris scenes, but it's still a rather outlandish plot device. Not one of Francis's better vehicles. [TCM]
Thursday, February 26, 2009
SPECIAL AGENT (1949)
"Railroads are fascinating to everybody!" says the overbearing narrator at the beginning of this B-crime film about a railroad agent (William Eythe) and his pursuit of a pair of killers. Eythe, a new recruit, is given his first assignment in a sleepy California town; he's friendly with everyone, including engineer Jake and his wife and kids, and is sweet on Laura Elliott, daughter of a crusty old engineer (known, of course, as Pops). During a routine trip, a train is stopped in a tunnel, the mail car robbed, and Pops and Jake are killed. For Eythe, it's personal and he becomes consumed by the hunt for the killers. One of the clues is a copy of "War & Peace" left behind at the scene, leading someone to comment, "Obviously we're not dealing with ordinary men." Well, the crooks, the Deveraux brothers, Paul (George Reeves) and Ed (Paul Valentine), are pretty ordinary; they've committed the robbery in order to raise money so their impoverished grandfather can buy back some farmland--the narrator helpfully tells us that the old man's ranch looked like "a once-beautiful woman grown old and slatternly." The trail grows cold, until a lab tech finds evidence that the crooks worked as loggers and ranch hands. The nerdy tech also draws remarkably detailed sketches of the suspects, though how he got those from the physical evidence, I have no idea. Anyway, Eythe gets back on the trail and after a tip from a couple of kids, a well-laid trap, and a couple of shootouts, the agents get their men.
This was decent B-movie fun, despite many liabilities. The acting is not very good: Eythe, only 30 but already in career (and looks) decline, seems to be sleepwalking through his part; Valentine gives an oddly mannered performance as the tough-guy brother; Elliott is OK, though she's not really given much screen time—years later, she was Farley Granger's slutty wife in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN and, after changing her name to Kasey Rogers, was Larry Tate's wife on "Bewitched." Reeves is head and shoulders the best actor here. The narration, perhaps intended to give the film a documentary feel and to cut back on expenses by delivering lots of plot points in voiceover rather than showing them happening, is mostly obtrusive and laughable. The Alpha DVD print is just on the edge of acceptable; the night scenes, which include most of the action in the film, are too murky. The story works well, and a little more development of relationships (between Eythe and the dead men, between Eythe and Elliot, between the brothers) would have made things more interesting. Perhaps a better print of this Pine-Thomas B-film, once distributed by Paramount, will turn up someday. [DVD]
"Railroads are fascinating to everybody!" says the overbearing narrator at the beginning of this B-crime film about a railroad agent (William Eythe) and his pursuit of a pair of killers. Eythe, a new recruit, is given his first assignment in a sleepy California town; he's friendly with everyone, including engineer Jake and his wife and kids, and is sweet on Laura Elliott, daughter of a crusty old engineer (known, of course, as Pops). During a routine trip, a train is stopped in a tunnel, the mail car robbed, and Pops and Jake are killed. For Eythe, it's personal and he becomes consumed by the hunt for the killers. One of the clues is a copy of "War & Peace" left behind at the scene, leading someone to comment, "Obviously we're not dealing with ordinary men." Well, the crooks, the Deveraux brothers, Paul (George Reeves) and Ed (Paul Valentine), are pretty ordinary; they've committed the robbery in order to raise money so their impoverished grandfather can buy back some farmland--the narrator helpfully tells us that the old man's ranch looked like "a once-beautiful woman grown old and slatternly." The trail grows cold, until a lab tech finds evidence that the crooks worked as loggers and ranch hands. The nerdy tech also draws remarkably detailed sketches of the suspects, though how he got those from the physical evidence, I have no idea. Anyway, Eythe gets back on the trail and after a tip from a couple of kids, a well-laid trap, and a couple of shootouts, the agents get their men.This was decent B-movie fun, despite many liabilities. The acting is not very good: Eythe, only 30 but already in career (and looks) decline, seems to be sleepwalking through his part; Valentine gives an oddly mannered performance as the tough-guy brother; Elliott is OK, though she's not really given much screen time—years later, she was Farley Granger's slutty wife in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN and, after changing her name to Kasey Rogers, was Larry Tate's wife on "Bewitched." Reeves is head and shoulders the best actor here. The narration, perhaps intended to give the film a documentary feel and to cut back on expenses by delivering lots of plot points in voiceover rather than showing them happening, is mostly obtrusive and laughable. The Alpha DVD print is just on the edge of acceptable; the night scenes, which include most of the action in the film, are too murky. The story works well, and a little more development of relationships (between Eythe and the dead men, between Eythe and Elliot, between the brothers) would have made things more interesting. Perhaps a better print of this Pine-Thomas B-film, once distributed by Paramount, will turn up someday. [DVD]
Sunday, February 22, 2009
PLAY GIRL (1941)
Kay Francis plays a woman of a certain age who has a reputation for making her living by trapping men in breach of promise suits; the film begins at Lake Placid with the father of her latest target warning her to stay away from his son. She and her companion (Margaret Hamilton) head to Florida where the pickings are usually easier, but Francis is aging and it's harder for her bait to get some nibbles. Instead, she winds up taking a poor young thing (Mildred Coles) under her wing to show her the ropes of gold-digging. On the way to Chicago, the women have an encounter with handsome cattleman James Ellison, and Coles takes a particular shine to him, but Francis is sure that Coles can do better, and sets her up with businessman Nigel Bruce, rich but considerably older and stodgier. Coles goes about setting Bruce up for a fall and gets $50,000 out of him. Just as Francis gets Coles another target, Ellison re-enters the picture and Coles starts to date him until she discovers he's actually a millionaire; he proposes but she's afraid he'll think she just wants his money and she runs off. Francis makes a successful play for Ellison until Ellison's mother comes to his rescue. In a rushed ending, Francis backs off and gets Ellison and Coles back together, with the promise of snagging Ellison's uncle for herself.
This should have been a fizzy screwball comedy, but something is off in any number of departments: Francis is OK but seems too old to play gold digger, and not old enough to settle for less than love—it might have worked if she'd come off as either peppier or drabber. Coles is a forgettable love interest and has little chemistry with Ellison, who is otherwise fine as the romantic lead. The supporting cast is fairly strong: Bruce is amusing, and I quite enjoyed the unexpected moment when he makes fun of Francis's troubles enunciating her "R's" (though Francis also gets in a jab at Bruce's mannerisms); Hamilton is even better, miles away from the Wicked Witch, in full modern spinster mode. Though the part isn't exactly taxing, she's fun and I'm sorry she didn't more do more roles like this. Also with the handsome Kane Richmond and the always welcome Cecil Cunningham. The pace is a little slow and the look of the movie is rather low-budget. OK if not top-drawer romantic comedy. [TCM]
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
THE ICE FOLLIES OF 1939 (1939)
On paper, this sounds quite odd: a movie with Joan Crawford and James Stewart as a show biz ice-skating couple which culminates in a 15 minute Technicolor ice follies sequence. Unfortunately, it's really a rather dull affair, one in a long line of dreary movies of the classic era in which a fragile male can't take his wife's (or girlfriend's) success, causing the breakup of their relationship until he proves himself to be the better breadwinner. Stewart, Crawford, and Lew Ayers are an ice-skating act, with Crawford singing, but they're fired because the boss thinks that skating and singing don't mix. Crawford and Stewart marry, and Ayers, feeling like a fifth wheel, leaves the act. Crawford finagles her way into the office of studio boss Lewis Stone and gets a contract, a new name, a glamorous image, and a breakout movie role, all in about five minutes. Stewart, upset at her success, leaves her to become a producer of ice shows. Over time, they all run into each other again, Ayers becoming a producing partner with Stewart, and eventually Crawford quits the movies to be with her man. One problem here is that Stewart and Ayers (pictured in their simply charming ice-skating outfits) have more chemistry together that Stewart and Crawford. Another problem is the predictability of the stupid male-pride plot; as soon as Crawford leaves the studio boss's office, you know she'll have to give up her career in the end. Lionel Stander has a small role as an agent. The various musical bits are OK, but unless you're an ice follies freak, there's no reason to sit though this. [TCM]
On paper, this sounds quite odd: a movie with Joan Crawford and James Stewart as a show biz ice-skating couple which culminates in a 15 minute Technicolor ice follies sequence. Unfortunately, it's really a rather dull affair, one in a long line of dreary movies of the classic era in which a fragile male can't take his wife's (or girlfriend's) success, causing the breakup of their relationship until he proves himself to be the better breadwinner. Stewart, Crawford, and Lew Ayers are an ice-skating act, with Crawford singing, but they're fired because the boss thinks that skating and singing don't mix. Crawford and Stewart marry, and Ayers, feeling like a fifth wheel, leaves the act. Crawford finagles her way into the office of studio boss Lewis Stone and gets a contract, a new name, a glamorous image, and a breakout movie role, all in about five minutes. Stewart, upset at her success, leaves her to become a producer of ice shows. Over time, they all run into each other again, Ayers becoming a producing partner with Stewart, and eventually Crawford quits the movies to be with her man. One problem here is that Stewart and Ayers (pictured in their simply charming ice-skating outfits) have more chemistry together that Stewart and Crawford. Another problem is the predictability of the stupid male-pride plot; as soon as Crawford leaves the studio boss's office, you know she'll have to give up her career in the end. Lionel Stander has a small role as an agent. The various musical bits are OK, but unless you're an ice follies freak, there's no reason to sit though this. [TCM]
Saturday, February 14, 2009
THE CLOCK (1945)
For Valentine's Day, I thought I'd revisit a romantic classic I'd seen only once before, many years ago. In my memory, THE CLOCK was a sweet, whimsical, comic romance about two lonely people who meet cute, share a whirlwind big-city weekend during which they fall in love, then go through some amusing shenanigans trying to get married before he has to go back to war. Sadly, like many things about past romances, my rose-colored memories of this movie proved to be a bit faulty. Robert Walker is a young and innocent farm boy turned solider who is in New York City on a 2-day leave. Killing time among the crowds at Penn Station, he accidentally trips young working girl Judy Garland, who loses the heel of her shoe. They chat each other up and Garland, realizing how lonely Walker is, agrees to spend the day sightseeing with him. The needy Walker practically begs her to meet him for dinner that evening, even though she has a date with her boyfriend; at the last minute, she breaks the date and meets the soldier. Late that night, strolling the streets because they've missed her last bus, the two wind up accompanying a friendly milkman on his route, even finishing his deliveries for him when he's injured by a belligerent drunk. They decide rather impulsively to get married (the wartime context helps explain the rush), and spend the next day in a sad little comedy of errors trying to get through all the red tape before he has to ship out the next morning.
Though the plot is a bit cliché, this film does feel surprisingly modern at times, primarily in its attempt at fleshing out the small-scale romance with some quirky supporting characters and situations. The middle of the film, the nighttime milk run sequence, is the high point, with the always welcome James Gleason (who would play a similar role as the sweet-natured taxi driver in THE BISHOP’S WIFE) adding some much needed humor and whimsy to what is, despite its romantic-comedy framework, not a very funny movie. Early in the film, Ruth Brady and Marshall Thompson provide some amusement as Garland's more worldly roommate, who warns her away from fooling around with servicemen, and her cute but passive boyfriend. The last half-hour, in which they are accidentally parted, meet again (at Penn Station), and desperately try to get married, is an almost total downer. One problem is that neither of their characters is fully developed: Walker, though charming, remains a stereotype of a rural American lad (one remove from being a hick); Garland gets even less background--I think the filmmakers rely on us knowing Judy Garland's movie persona (mostly at the time as Andy Hardy's gal pal) rather than giving her much of a backstory, or even a personality. Though primarily filmed on Hollywood sets, the city does come to life as almost a third central character; the detailed Penn Station set is particularly impressive. When I first saw this back in the mid-90's, I was charmed, but now I find it a strangely unengaging affair which, at only 90 minutes, feels too long. Ah, the folly of looking back... [TCM]
For Valentine's Day, I thought I'd revisit a romantic classic I'd seen only once before, many years ago. In my memory, THE CLOCK was a sweet, whimsical, comic romance about two lonely people who meet cute, share a whirlwind big-city weekend during which they fall in love, then go through some amusing shenanigans trying to get married before he has to go back to war. Sadly, like many things about past romances, my rose-colored memories of this movie proved to be a bit faulty. Robert Walker is a young and innocent farm boy turned solider who is in New York City on a 2-day leave. Killing time among the crowds at Penn Station, he accidentally trips young working girl Judy Garland, who loses the heel of her shoe. They chat each other up and Garland, realizing how lonely Walker is, agrees to spend the day sightseeing with him. The needy Walker practically begs her to meet him for dinner that evening, even though she has a date with her boyfriend; at the last minute, she breaks the date and meets the soldier. Late that night, strolling the streets because they've missed her last bus, the two wind up accompanying a friendly milkman on his route, even finishing his deliveries for him when he's injured by a belligerent drunk. They decide rather impulsively to get married (the wartime context helps explain the rush), and spend the next day in a sad little comedy of errors trying to get through all the red tape before he has to ship out the next morning.
Though the plot is a bit cliché, this film does feel surprisingly modern at times, primarily in its attempt at fleshing out the small-scale romance with some quirky supporting characters and situations. The middle of the film, the nighttime milk run sequence, is the high point, with the always welcome James Gleason (who would play a similar role as the sweet-natured taxi driver in THE BISHOP’S WIFE) adding some much needed humor and whimsy to what is, despite its romantic-comedy framework, not a very funny movie. Early in the film, Ruth Brady and Marshall Thompson provide some amusement as Garland's more worldly roommate, who warns her away from fooling around with servicemen, and her cute but passive boyfriend. The last half-hour, in which they are accidentally parted, meet again (at Penn Station), and desperately try to get married, is an almost total downer. One problem is that neither of their characters is fully developed: Walker, though charming, remains a stereotype of a rural American lad (one remove from being a hick); Garland gets even less background--I think the filmmakers rely on us knowing Judy Garland's movie persona (mostly at the time as Andy Hardy's gal pal) rather than giving her much of a backstory, or even a personality. Though primarily filmed on Hollywood sets, the city does come to life as almost a third central character; the detailed Penn Station set is particularly impressive. When I first saw this back in the mid-90's, I was charmed, but now I find it a strangely unengaging affair which, at only 90 minutes, feels too long. Ah, the folly of looking back... [TCM]
Thursday, February 12, 2009
THERE'S ALWAYS A WOMAN (1938)
A mild screwball comedy in the Thin Man vein; not bad considering it's missing the Thin Man's best assets, William Powell and Myrna Loy. Here, Melvyn Douglas is a DA's assistant who has quit his job to start his own detective agency, though as the film begins, he is in the process of throwing out his secretary (Rita Hayworth with about a line and a half of dialogue) and giving up the failing business. His wife, Joan Blondell, decides to make a go of it herself (behind his back) when Mary Astor, a high society wife, comes in with a case: she wants a family friend followed because she may be carrying on with Astor's husband despite having her own fiancé. Blondell (accompanied by her clueless husband) goes to the Skyline Club that night to observe the group. After some slapstick shenanigans at the club, which involve club owner and notorious gambler Jerome Cowan, Astor’s husband winds up dead, Douglas finds out what his wife is up to, and the two spend the rest of the film working with and against each other trying to find the villain. A few more tangled relationships (and one more corpse) come to light before everything is cleared up. Blondell (pictured at left) is better than her material here, and pretty much is the main reason for watching, though oddly she did not appear in next year's sequel, THERE'S THAT WOMAN AGAIN. In addition to the nightclub scene, another highlight of the film is the police grilling of Blondell, who stands up to hours of good cop/bad cop posturing, bright lights in the face, and a deliberately annoying squeak in a chair better than the police do. Douglas is his usual bland self, not bad but not memorable; Astor, a couple of years before she would revive her career with MALTESE FALCON, has another thankless society wife role. The solution to the mystery, as in the Thin Man films, is easy to guess and relatively unimportant, so how much you will enjoy this depends on your tolerance for B-level screwball battle-of-the-sexes humor. Virginia Bruce took Blondell's role in the sequel and, though I usually like her, I find it hard to believe that she could have topped Blondell. [TCM]
A mild screwball comedy in the Thin Man vein; not bad considering it's missing the Thin Man's best assets, William Powell and Myrna Loy. Here, Melvyn Douglas is a DA's assistant who has quit his job to start his own detective agency, though as the film begins, he is in the process of throwing out his secretary (Rita Hayworth with about a line and a half of dialogue) and giving up the failing business. His wife, Joan Blondell, decides to make a go of it herself (behind his back) when Mary Astor, a high society wife, comes in with a case: she wants a family friend followed because she may be carrying on with Astor's husband despite having her own fiancé. Blondell (accompanied by her clueless husband) goes to the Skyline Club that night to observe the group. After some slapstick shenanigans at the club, which involve club owner and notorious gambler Jerome Cowan, Astor’s husband winds up dead, Douglas finds out what his wife is up to, and the two spend the rest of the film working with and against each other trying to find the villain. A few more tangled relationships (and one more corpse) come to light before everything is cleared up. Blondell (pictured at left) is better than her material here, and pretty much is the main reason for watching, though oddly she did not appear in next year's sequel, THERE'S THAT WOMAN AGAIN. In addition to the nightclub scene, another highlight of the film is the police grilling of Blondell, who stands up to hours of good cop/bad cop posturing, bright lights in the face, and a deliberately annoying squeak in a chair better than the police do. Douglas is his usual bland self, not bad but not memorable; Astor, a couple of years before she would revive her career with MALTESE FALCON, has another thankless society wife role. The solution to the mystery, as in the Thin Man films, is easy to guess and relatively unimportant, so how much you will enjoy this depends on your tolerance for B-level screwball battle-of-the-sexes humor. Virginia Bruce took Blondell's role in the sequel and, though I usually like her, I find it hard to believe that she could have topped Blondell. [TCM]
Sunday, February 08, 2009
THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO (1934)
A version of the much-adapted adventure story by Dumas; far too much plot has been crammed into a two-hour running time, but everything moves along quickly. In 1815, Edmund Dantes (Robert Donat) is a young sailor who innocently winds up in the middle of a plot to bring the exiled Napoleon back to France from Elba. Villefort (Louis Calhern) sends Dantes off to lifetime imprisonment without a trial, covering up for his own father who was the real villain. In the island prison of Chateau d'If, Dantes wastes away for eight years until he is befriended by the Abbe Faria (O.P. Heggie) who has been slowly but steadily digging an escape route to the sea. After eight more years of work, Dantes finally manages to get off the island; the Abbe dies first, but leaves Dantes instruction for finding a hidden treasure on the island of Monte Cristo. With this money, Dantes spends a few more years plotting an elaborate revenge against Villefort and his collaborators, the traitorous sailor Danglars (Raymond Walburn) and the aristocrat Mondego (Sidney Blackmer), who has since married Dantes' former sweetheart (Elissa Landi). There is a rather startling suicide scene which I'm surprised got past the newly-enforced Production Code, a swordfight, a duel, and a well-staged climax in a courtroom.
I've never read the book--and at this stage in my life, I'm not likely to--but most critics say this is a solid adaptation, though it leaves out major plotlines. As it is, plot points in the last half go whizzing by too quickly, but the story never becomes hard to follow. I'm not a big fan of Donat but his placid demeanor works here, giving his moments of flash more impact. Landi is given little to do, but the rest of the cast is excellent, not just the three villains but also Heggie as the wise and almost ethereral Abbe, Georgia Caine as Landi's mother, and Luis Alberni and Clarence Muse as Donat's assistants in revenge. The story's reputation as a "swashbuckler" doesn’t quite seem deserved, as there is very little swordsmanship on display, but once we get past the exposition of the opening, which has to do with the French politics of the day, the movie moves along quite nicely and never stops. This film has apparently been mostly seen lately in a chopped-down and colorized 90-minute version, but the complete black-and-white 113-minute film has aired on Turner Classic. The print is not in perfect shape, but it's worth catching. [TCM]
A version of the much-adapted adventure story by Dumas; far too much plot has been crammed into a two-hour running time, but everything moves along quickly. In 1815, Edmund Dantes (Robert Donat) is a young sailor who innocently winds up in the middle of a plot to bring the exiled Napoleon back to France from Elba. Villefort (Louis Calhern) sends Dantes off to lifetime imprisonment without a trial, covering up for his own father who was the real villain. In the island prison of Chateau d'If, Dantes wastes away for eight years until he is befriended by the Abbe Faria (O.P. Heggie) who has been slowly but steadily digging an escape route to the sea. After eight more years of work, Dantes finally manages to get off the island; the Abbe dies first, but leaves Dantes instruction for finding a hidden treasure on the island of Monte Cristo. With this money, Dantes spends a few more years plotting an elaborate revenge against Villefort and his collaborators, the traitorous sailor Danglars (Raymond Walburn) and the aristocrat Mondego (Sidney Blackmer), who has since married Dantes' former sweetheart (Elissa Landi). There is a rather startling suicide scene which I'm surprised got past the newly-enforced Production Code, a swordfight, a duel, and a well-staged climax in a courtroom.I've never read the book--and at this stage in my life, I'm not likely to--but most critics say this is a solid adaptation, though it leaves out major plotlines. As it is, plot points in the last half go whizzing by too quickly, but the story never becomes hard to follow. I'm not a big fan of Donat but his placid demeanor works here, giving his moments of flash more impact. Landi is given little to do, but the rest of the cast is excellent, not just the three villains but also Heggie as the wise and almost ethereral Abbe, Georgia Caine as Landi's mother, and Luis Alberni and Clarence Muse as Donat's assistants in revenge. The story's reputation as a "swashbuckler" doesn’t quite seem deserved, as there is very little swordsmanship on display, but once we get past the exposition of the opening, which has to do with the French politics of the day, the movie moves along quite nicely and never stops. This film has apparently been mostly seen lately in a chopped-down and colorized 90-minute version, but the complete black-and-white 113-minute film has aired on Turner Classic. The print is not in perfect shape, but it's worth catching. [TCM]
Thursday, February 05, 2009
THE GIRL MOST LIKELY (1957)
My favorite movie eras are the 30's, 40's, and 60's. This movie is a perfect example of why I tend to shy away from 50's films (too much emphasis on bright color surfaces, too much artificiality, not enough risk-taking, and mediocre acting, with good actors often placed in roles that don't suit them) and yet I continue to sample them as I sometimes find subversive pleasures which were probably not part of the filmmakers' master plan. This is a musical remake of a 40's romantic comedy called TOM, DICK AND HARRY starring Ginger Rogers (which I have not seen). Jane Powell is a dreamy young working girl who still lives with her parents, loves romantic movies, and yearns for the good life with a rich husband—her first song, sung in her bedroom, reminds me a bit of Ann-Margret's "How Lovely to Be a Woman" in BYE BYE BIRDIE. Her unambitious, stable, steady, stick-in-the-mud boyfriend is realtor Tommy Noonan; at a nighttime beach party, he sets up lounge chairs for the two of them amongst the teeming masses of couples on the sand who are making out like crazy. She rather passively accepts his proposal of marriage, but the next day, on a crazy impulse, she jumps into the water off a ferry boat, hoping to be "saved" by the owner of a nearby yacht. Instead, it's boat repairman Cliff Robertson who picks her up. He's handsome, hunky, and down to earth, and they hit it off well, but the problem is that money is not his main concern in life. Still, she becomes engaged to him without mentioning Noonan. Later, she manages to meet the real yacht owner (Keith Andes) who seems to be the answer to her dreams, and gets engaged to him. Naturally, the three find out about each other and soon she has to choose the one most likely to make her happy.
The plot has promise, as does the gimmick that we see her whimsical (and musical) imaginings of what life would be like with each one. The production numbers are well executed with choreography by Gower Champion, but the songs themselves, despite some clever lyrics, are unmemorable. The pacing is absolutely leaden in the first half, though things do pick up a bit later. Powell is a problem: she's pretty and peppy, and sings and dances fine, but she was almost 30 and looks it, and the character seems like she should be quite a bit younger. Kaye Ballard is fun as her best friend, and Frank Cady (Sam Drucker on "Green Acres") and Una Merkel play Powell's parents. A cute dancer named Kelly Brown plays Ballard's boyfriend (in real life, Brown was the father of dancer Leslie Browne who was nominated for an Oscar for THE TURNING POINT). The movie's saving grace is how darn gay it seems. Noonan, passive if not quite an obvious sissy, exclaims, when Powell says yes to his proposal, "You've made me the happiest girl in the world!" One number (I think it's called "Balboa") is full of shirtless men in short swim trunks, showing lots more skin than the women do. A Mexican-themed dance features Andes and Brown acting a tad swishy, and when Robertson goes to Noonan's place of work to check out his competition, the scene plays out like a not-so-subtle gay pick-up. Without these little delights, I'm not sure I would have stayed with the film until the end. [TCM]
My favorite movie eras are the 30's, 40's, and 60's. This movie is a perfect example of why I tend to shy away from 50's films (too much emphasis on bright color surfaces, too much artificiality, not enough risk-taking, and mediocre acting, with good actors often placed in roles that don't suit them) and yet I continue to sample them as I sometimes find subversive pleasures which were probably not part of the filmmakers' master plan. This is a musical remake of a 40's romantic comedy called TOM, DICK AND HARRY starring Ginger Rogers (which I have not seen). Jane Powell is a dreamy young working girl who still lives with her parents, loves romantic movies, and yearns for the good life with a rich husband—her first song, sung in her bedroom, reminds me a bit of Ann-Margret's "How Lovely to Be a Woman" in BYE BYE BIRDIE. Her unambitious, stable, steady, stick-in-the-mud boyfriend is realtor Tommy Noonan; at a nighttime beach party, he sets up lounge chairs for the two of them amongst the teeming masses of couples on the sand who are making out like crazy. She rather passively accepts his proposal of marriage, but the next day, on a crazy impulse, she jumps into the water off a ferry boat, hoping to be "saved" by the owner of a nearby yacht. Instead, it's boat repairman Cliff Robertson who picks her up. He's handsome, hunky, and down to earth, and they hit it off well, but the problem is that money is not his main concern in life. Still, she becomes engaged to him without mentioning Noonan. Later, she manages to meet the real yacht owner (Keith Andes) who seems to be the answer to her dreams, and gets engaged to him. Naturally, the three find out about each other and soon she has to choose the one most likely to make her happy.
The plot has promise, as does the gimmick that we see her whimsical (and musical) imaginings of what life would be like with each one. The production numbers are well executed with choreography by Gower Champion, but the songs themselves, despite some clever lyrics, are unmemorable. The pacing is absolutely leaden in the first half, though things do pick up a bit later. Powell is a problem: she's pretty and peppy, and sings and dances fine, but she was almost 30 and looks it, and the character seems like she should be quite a bit younger. Kaye Ballard is fun as her best friend, and Frank Cady (Sam Drucker on "Green Acres") and Una Merkel play Powell's parents. A cute dancer named Kelly Brown plays Ballard's boyfriend (in real life, Brown was the father of dancer Leslie Browne who was nominated for an Oscar for THE TURNING POINT). The movie's saving grace is how darn gay it seems. Noonan, passive if not quite an obvious sissy, exclaims, when Powell says yes to his proposal, "You've made me the happiest girl in the world!" One number (I think it's called "Balboa") is full of shirtless men in short swim trunks, showing lots more skin than the women do. A Mexican-themed dance features Andes and Brown acting a tad swishy, and when Robertson goes to Noonan's place of work to check out his competition, the scene plays out like a not-so-subtle gay pick-up. Without these little delights, I'm not sure I would have stayed with the film until the end. [TCM]
Saturday, January 31, 2009
BROTHER SUN, SISTER MOON (1972)This film of the early life of St. Francis of Assisi begins with young Francis (Graham Faulkner) coming home from the Crusades; the rumor is that he has turned coward, but he arrives in a state of near-total collapse with a dangerous fever. While his mother (Valentina Cortese) tends to him, we get some fractured flashbacks of his days before the wars as a son of privilege in the village of Assisi. When he finally recovers, he seems to have had a major personality change, made plain in a scene in which he scampers across a roof chasing after a bird. He catches it, holds it, and lets it go, and then teeters on the edge of the roof while a flock of birds swarms around him. He decides to give up all his possessions and live in poverty as a beggar. His father hopes taking him to church will help, but Francis has a meltdown, screaming "No!" at the giant crucifix and eventually stripping himself naked in the public square in the presence of the Bishop, saying that he has been "born again." The Bishop tells him that he is subverting "the established order," though he does seems to have at least a bit of sympathy for Francis' innocent idealism. Francis goes off to live in a ruined chapel and, with the help of a small band of followers, mostly poor and crippled, rebuilds it. That winter, his three closest friends return from the Crusades and, one by one, they decide to join him. Also joining him is Clare (Judi Bowker), a young woman he fancied in his pre-war days. When the bishop has their church set on fire, Francis and his friends go to Rome to see the Pope (Alec Guinness) to find out why the Church opposes them so violently. In the film's climax, the muddy, barefoot Francis enters the outlandishly ornate cathedral and lectures the Holy Fathers on the Gospels (the lilies of the field neither toiling nor spinning, etc.). He is run out of the church, but the Pope has second thoughts, calls him back in, and gives him his blessing by kissing Francis' feet
This film is derided by many as a "hippy-dippy," flower-child film, and the fact that songs by Donovan, the archetypal hippie troubadour, crop up occasionally only reinforces that label. There is a very 60's vibe to Francis's philosophy, presented as a rebellion against "the establishment"--the church, the state, the family. But I found the movie to be quite enjoyable, and much less dated than I was expecting it to be--no day-glow colors, no light show visuals, no druggy hazes, and fairly standard cinematography (though most of the men do have hippieish hair and/or beards), and even Donovan's songs sound more ancient folkie than hippie. Faulkner is very handsome and gives a solid, charismatic performance despite the fuzziness of Francis' character as written. Bowker, wispily lovely, has almost nothing to do, and is in fact absent from the film for long stretches. Supporting players Leigh Lawson and Kenneth Cranham as Francis' buddies have much more screen time. Guinness gives one of the oddest performances of his career as the Pope--I can't tell if the Pope indeed has had some kind of spiritual epiphany, or if he's crazy like a fox (it's suggested that the Pope's actions have a practical, political basis in that Francis may be able to bring the poor back into the faithful fold), or just a somewhat bug-eyed loony. The movie, shot on location in Italy, is almost always lovely to look at. I find this a much more interesting film than the early 60's Hollywood version of Francis' life with Bradford Dillman. This one is much better than its reputation suggests. [DVD]
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
MIRANDA (1948)
I've never been particularly fascinated by mermaids (though I was fascinated by the hunky blond Aquaman in my comic-book-reading youth), and though I remember SPLASH being OK, I also remember that MR. PEABODY AND THE MERMAID was a terrible movie, despite the presence of the wonderful William Powell. So it was with some trepidation that I approached this British comic fantasy about a man who finds a mermaid and takes her back to civilization. It turns out to be a fairly delightful film, much more interesting than the above two mermaid movies. Middle-class doctor Griffith Jones takes a solo fishing vacation in Cornwall and snags a mermaid named Miranda (Glynis Johns) on his line. When he falls in the water, she takes him to her cave and he awakes to hear her singing her siren song. She begs him to take her back to London with him so she can spend a few weeks seeing the sights she's read about in snippets of newspapers left behind in the water. He agrees, having her pose as a patient confined to a wheelchair. When they get to London, the men she meets are all enchanted with her, especially Jones' butler (David Tomlinson) and his painter friend, John McCallum. The women are another story. Jones's wife (Googie Withers) isn't terribly happy to see such a lovely young woman staying with them indefinitely and being carried everywhere by her husband. Tomlinson's wife, the family maid, and McCallum's fiancée are similarly upset to see the effect she has on their men.
Jones hires a famously eccentric nurse (Margaret Rutherford) to take on the mermaid's personal care; when Rutherford finds out the truth about Johns, she's fascinated and keeps the secret. The rest of the film consists of Johns seducing all three men (though it's unclear exactly how far any hanky-panky could actually go) between visits with Jones to the opera (where one night, she heaves herself up on the edge of her box seat and belts out an aria as good as the one just heard on stage) and the playing-out of lots of fish puns and jokes about the mermaid's cold skin and Tomlinson's big ears. Just when it seems like the mermaid has wrecked all their love lives, the men find out that she's juggling them all and they lose interest. Johns dives out into the Thames and heads out to open sea, leaving the men and women to mend their relationships. A tidy and predictable ending, yes, but with a hilarious shocker of a last shot that will make you go back to contemplating the mechanics of human/mermaid sex. The movie is frothy and sexy and all the acting is top-notch, with especially high marks going to Withers, who generally manages to avoid the brittle clichés of the jealous wife, and the very handsome Jones (pictured) and McCallum. It's based on a play, but it never feels stagy. Brian Oulton has a small role as a flamingly gay dress designer. I love the fact that there is a separate credit for the tail: "Tail by Dunlop." [TCM]
I've never been particularly fascinated by mermaids (though I was fascinated by the hunky blond Aquaman in my comic-book-reading youth), and though I remember SPLASH being OK, I also remember that MR. PEABODY AND THE MERMAID was a terrible movie, despite the presence of the wonderful William Powell. So it was with some trepidation that I approached this British comic fantasy about a man who finds a mermaid and takes her back to civilization. It turns out to be a fairly delightful film, much more interesting than the above two mermaid movies. Middle-class doctor Griffith Jones takes a solo fishing vacation in Cornwall and snags a mermaid named Miranda (Glynis Johns) on his line. When he falls in the water, she takes him to her cave and he awakes to hear her singing her siren song. She begs him to take her back to London with him so she can spend a few weeks seeing the sights she's read about in snippets of newspapers left behind in the water. He agrees, having her pose as a patient confined to a wheelchair. When they get to London, the men she meets are all enchanted with her, especially Jones' butler (David Tomlinson) and his painter friend, John McCallum. The women are another story. Jones's wife (Googie Withers) isn't terribly happy to see such a lovely young woman staying with them indefinitely and being carried everywhere by her husband. Tomlinson's wife, the family maid, and McCallum's fiancée are similarly upset to see the effect she has on their men.
Jones hires a famously eccentric nurse (Margaret Rutherford) to take on the mermaid's personal care; when Rutherford finds out the truth about Johns, she's fascinated and keeps the secret. The rest of the film consists of Johns seducing all three men (though it's unclear exactly how far any hanky-panky could actually go) between visits with Jones to the opera (where one night, she heaves herself up on the edge of her box seat and belts out an aria as good as the one just heard on stage) and the playing-out of lots of fish puns and jokes about the mermaid's cold skin and Tomlinson's big ears. Just when it seems like the mermaid has wrecked all their love lives, the men find out that she's juggling them all and they lose interest. Johns dives out into the Thames and heads out to open sea, leaving the men and women to mend their relationships. A tidy and predictable ending, yes, but with a hilarious shocker of a last shot that will make you go back to contemplating the mechanics of human/mermaid sex. The movie is frothy and sexy and all the acting is top-notch, with especially high marks going to Withers, who generally manages to avoid the brittle clichés of the jealous wife, and the very handsome Jones (pictured) and McCallum. It's based on a play, but it never feels stagy. Brian Oulton has a small role as a flamingly gay dress designer. I love the fact that there is a separate credit for the tail: "Tail by Dunlop." [TCM]
Saturday, January 24, 2009
SHADOWS OF THE ORIENT (1935)
Wow, am I on a bad movie kick! This one is so bad, I'm tempted not to bother anyone with news of its existence, but I sat through the whole thing so I'm gonna forge ahead. Besides, that cool title is what suckered me into watching this, so maybe my review will save others who might be equally tempted. This begins with a good scene that was duplicated in a later (and much better) Ronald Reagan B-movie, SECRET SERVICE OF THE AIR, in which a pilot, smuggling a Chinese family of illegal aliens, dumps them out in mid-air to their deaths when he's attacked by another plane. The pilot, pissed when his boss won't pay him for the aborted delivery, calls the Feds and offers to give them the goods on the smuggling ring, but is shot to death just before the agents raid the Chinese restaurant which is the front for the gang. The leader, Sidney Blackmer, gets away, but agent Regis Toomey, his older sidekick (J. Farrell McDonald), and a prominent judge's daughter (Esther Ralston) try to infiltrate the gang. Many static, tedious scenes later, a climax of sorts occurs when Blackmer forces Ralston into smuggling another Chinese family, with Toomey on her tail, not realizing she's in the pilot's seat. The 70-minute movie is filled with inept photography, bad sets, and flubbed lines left in, and the lack of any background music at all only accentuates the sheer boredom of the proceedings. Even the promise of a moderately exciting air chase at the end goes nowhere. The actors, all pros who have done good B-film work elsewhere, are left at sea by bad direction and zero production values. Blackmer gets one nicely slimy, almost campy line, when he says, "Orientals have a peculiar irresistible fascination for me," but despite the promise of the melodramatic title, this one will hold no one's interest. [DVD]
Wow, am I on a bad movie kick! This one is so bad, I'm tempted not to bother anyone with news of its existence, but I sat through the whole thing so I'm gonna forge ahead. Besides, that cool title is what suckered me into watching this, so maybe my review will save others who might be equally tempted. This begins with a good scene that was duplicated in a later (and much better) Ronald Reagan B-movie, SECRET SERVICE OF THE AIR, in which a pilot, smuggling a Chinese family of illegal aliens, dumps them out in mid-air to their deaths when he's attacked by another plane. The pilot, pissed when his boss won't pay him for the aborted delivery, calls the Feds and offers to give them the goods on the smuggling ring, but is shot to death just before the agents raid the Chinese restaurant which is the front for the gang. The leader, Sidney Blackmer, gets away, but agent Regis Toomey, his older sidekick (J. Farrell McDonald), and a prominent judge's daughter (Esther Ralston) try to infiltrate the gang. Many static, tedious scenes later, a climax of sorts occurs when Blackmer forces Ralston into smuggling another Chinese family, with Toomey on her tail, not realizing she's in the pilot's seat. The 70-minute movie is filled with inept photography, bad sets, and flubbed lines left in, and the lack of any background music at all only accentuates the sheer boredom of the proceedings. Even the promise of a moderately exciting air chase at the end goes nowhere. The actors, all pros who have done good B-film work elsewhere, are left at sea by bad direction and zero production values. Blackmer gets one nicely slimy, almost campy line, when he says, "Orientals have a peculiar irresistible fascination for me," but despite the promise of the melodramatic title, this one will hold no one's interest. [DVD]
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
THE HAT BOX MYSTERY (1947)
This Poverty Row detective film, from little-known outfit Screen Guild Productions, is dreadful, but for a B-movie buff like me, still has moments of interest. While struggling detective Tom Neal is out of his office, his secretary/fiancée Pamela Blake takes on a case for him; a mysterious man (Leonard Penn) with an obviously fake goatee says he wants her to get photographic evidence of his wife's adulterous activities. He tells Blake where to take the picture and even gives her a hat box with a hidden camera to use. However, when Blake goes to take the photo, it turns out that the box is rigged with a gun, and she shoots the wife. The DA takes her into custody, but Neal talks him into letting her go and letting him try to snare the real killer. With equal parts help and hindrance from bumbling sidekick Allen Jenkins, Neal does eventually clear Blake and the cops get Penn.
The plot is serviceable but with a weak script and a 45 minute running time, this ends up feeling more like a summary of a movie with most of the action and explanatory detail left out; other weaknesses include the cardboard sets and the grating background music. I like both Neal and Jenkins (pictured), though their best days were behind them. Jenkins was a reliable supporting comic relief figure in dozens of Warner Brothers films of the 30's (42ND STREET, MAYOR OF HELL, SH! THE OCTOPUS) whose career was revitalized later in TV. Neal, a handsome tough-guy actor who never made it out of B-films (DETOUR, FIRST YANK INTO TOKYO), was only in his mid-30s here but he's looking rather seedy already--his career was essentially over a few years later thanks to some real-life bad behavior. Blake is totally forgettable, though comic actress Virginia Sale tries hard for some laughs as a burger slinger and Jenkins' long-suffering gal. The most notable part of the film is at the very beginning, when the four leads introduce themselves directly to the camera, first in character, then with Neal giving their real names. [DVD]
This Poverty Row detective film, from little-known outfit Screen Guild Productions, is dreadful, but for a B-movie buff like me, still has moments of interest. While struggling detective Tom Neal is out of his office, his secretary/fiancée Pamela Blake takes on a case for him; a mysterious man (Leonard Penn) with an obviously fake goatee says he wants her to get photographic evidence of his wife's adulterous activities. He tells Blake where to take the picture and even gives her a hat box with a hidden camera to use. However, when Blake goes to take the photo, it turns out that the box is rigged with a gun, and she shoots the wife. The DA takes her into custody, but Neal talks him into letting her go and letting him try to snare the real killer. With equal parts help and hindrance from bumbling sidekick Allen Jenkins, Neal does eventually clear Blake and the cops get Penn.The plot is serviceable but with a weak script and a 45 minute running time, this ends up feeling more like a summary of a movie with most of the action and explanatory detail left out; other weaknesses include the cardboard sets and the grating background music. I like both Neal and Jenkins (pictured), though their best days were behind them. Jenkins was a reliable supporting comic relief figure in dozens of Warner Brothers films of the 30's (42ND STREET, MAYOR OF HELL, SH! THE OCTOPUS) whose career was revitalized later in TV. Neal, a handsome tough-guy actor who never made it out of B-films (DETOUR, FIRST YANK INTO TOKYO), was only in his mid-30s here but he's looking rather seedy already--his career was essentially over a few years later thanks to some real-life bad behavior. Blake is totally forgettable, though comic actress Virginia Sale tries hard for some laughs as a burger slinger and Jenkins' long-suffering gal. The most notable part of the film is at the very beginning, when the four leads introduce themselves directly to the camera, first in character, then with Neal giving their real names. [DVD]
Saturday, January 17, 2009
TONIGHT WE RAID CALAIS (1943)
A competently made WWII propaganda film which falls somewhere between a B- and an A-film. John Sutton is a British spy who is snuck across the English Channel in order to find a munitions plant and mark it so the RAF can bomb it a few nights later. On his way to finding his contact, Marcel Dalio, he takes refuge in the farmhouse of Lee J. Cobb, whose son has just been reported dead in a battle against the British. Cobb is willing to help out, passing Sutton off as his son returned from the front, but Cobb's daughter, Annabella, blames the British for the death of her brother and resents Sutton almost as much as she resents the Nazis. With the help of Dalio and Cobb, Sutton finds the plant and gets local farmers in the area to set bonfires encircling it on the night of the raid, but local Nazi Howard da Silva, by threatening Annabella's family, finds out about the plot from her. When he kills her family anyway, she sees the light and commits herself to helping Sutton accomplish his goal. The production is stagy but effective, and Sutton, mostly a B-actor, acquits himself well, though I was not as impressed by Annabella, a French actress, married at the time to Tyrone Power, who did not have a long Hollywood career. Beulah Bondi is Cobb's wife, who gets tricked by Da Silva into giving away an important secret near the climax. The most striking aspect of the plot is the active role of the women; at the climax, it's the farmer's wives who have to bond together and take care of setting the fires with Sutton. Also with John Banner (Schulz on "Hogan's Heroes") and Blanche Yurka. Directed by John Brahm with some nice but unobtrusive stylistic touches here and there. [DVD]
A competently made WWII propaganda film which falls somewhere between a B- and an A-film. John Sutton is a British spy who is snuck across the English Channel in order to find a munitions plant and mark it so the RAF can bomb it a few nights later. On his way to finding his contact, Marcel Dalio, he takes refuge in the farmhouse of Lee J. Cobb, whose son has just been reported dead in a battle against the British. Cobb is willing to help out, passing Sutton off as his son returned from the front, but Cobb's daughter, Annabella, blames the British for the death of her brother and resents Sutton almost as much as she resents the Nazis. With the help of Dalio and Cobb, Sutton finds the plant and gets local farmers in the area to set bonfires encircling it on the night of the raid, but local Nazi Howard da Silva, by threatening Annabella's family, finds out about the plot from her. When he kills her family anyway, she sees the light and commits herself to helping Sutton accomplish his goal. The production is stagy but effective, and Sutton, mostly a B-actor, acquits himself well, though I was not as impressed by Annabella, a French actress, married at the time to Tyrone Power, who did not have a long Hollywood career. Beulah Bondi is Cobb's wife, who gets tricked by Da Silva into giving away an important secret near the climax. The most striking aspect of the plot is the active role of the women; at the climax, it's the farmer's wives who have to bond together and take care of setting the fires with Sutton. Also with John Banner (Schulz on "Hogan's Heroes") and Blanche Yurka. Directed by John Brahm with some nice but unobtrusive stylistic touches here and there. [DVD]
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
SEXTON BLAKE AND THE HOODED TERROR (1938)
Fictional British detective Sexton Blake is a Sherlock Holmes rip-off, right down to the bumbling sidekick, the matronly housekeeper, and a Baker Street address. He was not nearly as universally popular in the movies as Holmes, but he remained a hero in books, comic strips, and British television through the 70's. This film, which plays out more like a Saturday matinee serial than a Holmes mystery, begins in Shanghai with an attempt on the life of Granite Grant (great character name, played by David Farrar, though he only has a couple minutes of screen time) by an evil organization called the Black Quorum, led by arch-villain The Snake. Grant's friend Duvall goes to London to pass along important information about the group, but he is killed via poisoned blowpipe in Blake's apartment. With help from a French agent (Greta Gynt), Blake (George Curzon) and his roommate Tinker, who is in fact an inept tinkerer in scientific experiments, get on the trail of the Snake, actually a wealthy stamp collector (Tod Slaughter). There are many trappings of the adventure serial: the blowpipe, invisible ink messages, spying TV cameras, a creepy casino which is a front for the bad guys' headquarters, and a death chamber with snakes slithering out of the walls. Best of all is the Black Quorum who, despite knowing each other’s identities, sit around at their meetings wearing hoods (see picture). The relatively fast pace of the proceedings is a big plus here, as most of the actors are just adequate, with Slaughter doing nicely as the baddie. The Snake gets away at the end, but since Blake was only "unofficially" on the case, he doesn’t care (!). Farrar went on to low-level stardom as the male lead in Michael Powell's BLACK NARCISSUS. Good print from the British Cinema Classic B-Film set from VCI. [DVD]
Fictional British detective Sexton Blake is a Sherlock Holmes rip-off, right down to the bumbling sidekick, the matronly housekeeper, and a Baker Street address. He was not nearly as universally popular in the movies as Holmes, but he remained a hero in books, comic strips, and British television through the 70's. This film, which plays out more like a Saturday matinee serial than a Holmes mystery, begins in Shanghai with an attempt on the life of Granite Grant (great character name, played by David Farrar, though he only has a couple minutes of screen time) by an evil organization called the Black Quorum, led by arch-villain The Snake. Grant's friend Duvall goes to London to pass along important information about the group, but he is killed via poisoned blowpipe in Blake's apartment. With help from a French agent (Greta Gynt), Blake (George Curzon) and his roommate Tinker, who is in fact an inept tinkerer in scientific experiments, get on the trail of the Snake, actually a wealthy stamp collector (Tod Slaughter). There are many trappings of the adventure serial: the blowpipe, invisible ink messages, spying TV cameras, a creepy casino which is a front for the bad guys' headquarters, and a death chamber with snakes slithering out of the walls. Best of all is the Black Quorum who, despite knowing each other’s identities, sit around at their meetings wearing hoods (see picture). The relatively fast pace of the proceedings is a big plus here, as most of the actors are just adequate, with Slaughter doing nicely as the baddie. The Snake gets away at the end, but since Blake was only "unofficially" on the case, he doesn’t care (!). Farrar went on to low-level stardom as the male lead in Michael Powell's BLACK NARCISSUS. Good print from the British Cinema Classic B-Film set from VCI. [DVD]
Saturday, January 10, 2009
CRIMES AT THE DARK HOUSE (1940)
Another British B-thriller with Tod Slaughter twirling his mustache and threatening to feed a man's entrails to the pigs. This one is a loose adaptation of Wilkie Collins's classic Gothic novel The Woman in White which was brought to the screen more faithfully (with Hollywood stars and a bigger budget) but with less rough flair in 1948. Here, Sir Percival Glyde, prospecting in Australia, gets word that he is to take over his family's estate in England; fellow prospector Slaughter, thinking Glyde is rich, murders him (driving a railroad spike through his head), goes to England and assumes his identity, only to discover that the estate is almost bankrupt. His only hope is to go through with a long-arranged marriage with the wealthy (and considerably younger) Laura. However, as she is in love with her tutor Paul, she is not happy with the arrangement--the brief wedding night scene is shot like a scene of torture from a Hammer horror movie--and she brings her sister Marion to live with her.
Meanwhile, the counterfeit Glyde has other problems piling up: 1) the saucy maid he's banging on the side is pregnant; 2) he discovers that Glyde had been secretly married and has a secret daughter, Anne, locked up in an asylum; 3) legally, he can’t get his hands on enough of Laura's money to satisfy his needs, and his lawyer tells him he'd be better off if his wife was dead. So, 1) when the maid wants him to do the right thing, he kills her, and gets to re-use his infamous line from MURDER IN THE RED BARN, "You shall be a bride--a bride of death!"; 2) when Anne's mother becomes a problem, she winds up dead as well; 3) when Glyde finds out that Anne, escaped from the asylum and haunting the property, is the spitting image of Laura, he kills her, claims his wife is dead, and sends Laura to the asylum. Luckily, Paul and Marion figure things out and come to Laura’s rescue. Though it only uses the names and bare bones of Collins's original plot, it's great near-campy B-movie fun. Slaughter goes delightfully over the top, leering and licking his lips whenever he can. No one else in the cast has a chance against him, though Hay Petrie has a bit of fun as the dastardly Dr. Fosco, who knows all of Glyde's secrets and keeps hoping for a big financial payoff instead of the promised loss of his intestines (which sadly does not happen, though Petrie's end is imaginative). Not for everyone's taste, but trashy fun if you're in the mood. The print from VCI's British Cinema: Classic B Film Collection Vol. 1 is in very good shape. [DVD]
Another British B-thriller with Tod Slaughter twirling his mustache and threatening to feed a man's entrails to the pigs. This one is a loose adaptation of Wilkie Collins's classic Gothic novel The Woman in White which was brought to the screen more faithfully (with Hollywood stars and a bigger budget) but with less rough flair in 1948. Here, Sir Percival Glyde, prospecting in Australia, gets word that he is to take over his family's estate in England; fellow prospector Slaughter, thinking Glyde is rich, murders him (driving a railroad spike through his head), goes to England and assumes his identity, only to discover that the estate is almost bankrupt. His only hope is to go through with a long-arranged marriage with the wealthy (and considerably younger) Laura. However, as she is in love with her tutor Paul, she is not happy with the arrangement--the brief wedding night scene is shot like a scene of torture from a Hammer horror movie--and she brings her sister Marion to live with her.Meanwhile, the counterfeit Glyde has other problems piling up: 1) the saucy maid he's banging on the side is pregnant; 2) he discovers that Glyde had been secretly married and has a secret daughter, Anne, locked up in an asylum; 3) legally, he can’t get his hands on enough of Laura's money to satisfy his needs, and his lawyer tells him he'd be better off if his wife was dead. So, 1) when the maid wants him to do the right thing, he kills her, and gets to re-use his infamous line from MURDER IN THE RED BARN, "You shall be a bride--a bride of death!"; 2) when Anne's mother becomes a problem, she winds up dead as well; 3) when Glyde finds out that Anne, escaped from the asylum and haunting the property, is the spitting image of Laura, he kills her, claims his wife is dead, and sends Laura to the asylum. Luckily, Paul and Marion figure things out and come to Laura’s rescue. Though it only uses the names and bare bones of Collins's original plot, it's great near-campy B-movie fun. Slaughter goes delightfully over the top, leering and licking his lips whenever he can. No one else in the cast has a chance against him, though Hay Petrie has a bit of fun as the dastardly Dr. Fosco, who knows all of Glyde's secrets and keeps hoping for a big financial payoff instead of the promised loss of his intestines (which sadly does not happen, though Petrie's end is imaginative). Not for everyone's taste, but trashy fun if you're in the mood. The print from VCI's British Cinema: Classic B Film Collection Vol. 1 is in very good shape. [DVD]
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
BLACK MAGIC (1949)
In 16th century France, a young gypsy boy named Joseph sees his mother brutally executed for having the power of "second sight': he bites the hand of the man responsible, Montagne (Stephen Bekassy), leaving a scar, and as he is being tortured, he is rescued by gypsies. Years later, Joseph (Orson Welles) discovers, with some help from the famous Dr. Mesmer, that he has a powerful talent for hypnosis. He goes on the road as Count Cagliostro, becomes famous as a mystical healer, and soon runs into Montagne, who, not recognizing him, asks for his help in a complicated plot to bring down Marie Antoinette involving Lorenza (Nancy Guild), a woman who is her double. He agrees to help, but once they reach the royal court, the plots multiply and it is soon each man and woman out for his or her own interests. Though this film is thick with the trappings of French history (Cagliostro was real, and he was arrested for being involved in the infamous affair of the necklace that was instrumental in bringing down Marie Antoinette), it is apparently mostly fiction, based on a story by Alexandre Dumas (who, in the movie's framing device, is telling the entire narrative to his son, played by Raymond Burr). It's a bit slow moving but it's enjoyable to watch the tricky, complex plots play out, and the sets (many of which look like actual on-location spots) are magnificent. Welles is excellent as always, and is rumored to have co-directed with credited director Gregory Ratoff. The rest of the acting is inconsistent; Guild is just OK as the French queen but terrible as Lorenza, and is especially bad when she's acting with Welles; Frank Latimore, as her gallant lover, is rather wooden. The only other standout is Akim Tamiroff as Cagliostro's loyal associate who has pangs of conscience near the climax when he's convinced that his boss has gone off the deep end. Not screened very often, but worth catching. [TCM]
In 16th century France, a young gypsy boy named Joseph sees his mother brutally executed for having the power of "second sight': he bites the hand of the man responsible, Montagne (Stephen Bekassy), leaving a scar, and as he is being tortured, he is rescued by gypsies. Years later, Joseph (Orson Welles) discovers, with some help from the famous Dr. Mesmer, that he has a powerful talent for hypnosis. He goes on the road as Count Cagliostro, becomes famous as a mystical healer, and soon runs into Montagne, who, not recognizing him, asks for his help in a complicated plot to bring down Marie Antoinette involving Lorenza (Nancy Guild), a woman who is her double. He agrees to help, but once they reach the royal court, the plots multiply and it is soon each man and woman out for his or her own interests. Though this film is thick with the trappings of French history (Cagliostro was real, and he was arrested for being involved in the infamous affair of the necklace that was instrumental in bringing down Marie Antoinette), it is apparently mostly fiction, based on a story by Alexandre Dumas (who, in the movie's framing device, is telling the entire narrative to his son, played by Raymond Burr). It's a bit slow moving but it's enjoyable to watch the tricky, complex plots play out, and the sets (many of which look like actual on-location spots) are magnificent. Welles is excellent as always, and is rumored to have co-directed with credited director Gregory Ratoff. The rest of the acting is inconsistent; Guild is just OK as the French queen but terrible as Lorenza, and is especially bad when she's acting with Welles; Frank Latimore, as her gallant lover, is rather wooden. The only other standout is Akim Tamiroff as Cagliostro's loyal associate who has pangs of conscience near the climax when he's convinced that his boss has gone off the deep end. Not screened very often, but worth catching. [TCM]
Monday, January 05, 2009
MURDER IN THE RED BARN (1935)
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW (1939)
In the 20's and 30's, Tod Slaughter was well known in England as a hammy star of stage and screen melodramas, most associated with the role of the killer barber Sweeney Todd (long before the Sondheim musical). As far as I can tell, the B-movie thrillers he made through the 30's and 40's didn't take off here in the States, but with the availability of the public-domain films on cheap DVDs, he has something of a cult following these days, and I was pleased to catch up with him over the holidays. The movies are stilted and low-budget but fun if you're not expecting too much. My problem with Slaughter (pictured below) is that he looks too much like Paul Ford, the jolly actor who played Mayor Shinn in THE MUSIC MAN, so it's difficult to take him seriously as a villian at first.
MARIA MARTEN, OR MURDER IN THE RED BARN, Slaughter's first film, is based on a play which was part of his regular repertory. He plays Corder, a well-liked village squire who throws dances for all the townsfolk, even the outcast gypsies, in his big red barn. He dances and flirts with lovely young Maria Marten (Sophie Stewart) but she is loved by Carlos, a hot-blooded gypsy boy (Eric Portman). An old gypsy fortune teller sees a hangman's noose in Slaughter's future, which rather puts a damper on the proceedings, but a few nights later, Maria sneaks away to be with Corder—it's unclear what the attraction is, as she looks sweet, virginal, and about 20 years old, while he looks a bit plumb and every bit his 50 years—but their rendezvous that night results in her pregnancy. By the time she tells Corder, he's on the verge of marrying a rich woman in order to pay off some gambling debts. When she threatens to expose him, he lures her to the barn and kills her (great line, delivered with blood and thunder by Slaughter: "You shall be a bride--a bride of DEATH!") and buries her there. Carlos helps the police figure out what's what, and Slaughter gets a good gone-round-the-bend climax. Gerard Tyrell is memorable as the comic relief village idiot who keeps getting cheated out of loose change by Slaughter.
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW is set in 1880 France, where the police are stymied by a series of murders and robberies supposedly committed by a wolfman, whose horrible face appears at the window just before the murder occurs (a good special effect for the day). When a bank is robbed by the monster, the rich Chevalier (Slaughter) agrees to make a large deposit to help save the bank, but in return he asks the bank manager for his daughter's hand in marriage. However, the young lady is in love with a lowly bank clerk (John Warwick), so Slaughter incriminates Warwick in the robbery. Meanwhile, Warwick knows a doctor who is experimenting with re-animating dead beings; this plot thread comes into play in the main narrative when Warwick proposes bringing back a recently dead victim of the "wolfman" so they can identify the killer and clear his name. It's no spoiler to note that Slaughter is behind the "wolfman" racket, though the secret of the face at the window and the way in which Slaughter is unmasked are both worth sticking around for. Neither of these are exactly horror movies; they're more Gothic-tinged crime thrillers, but they're fun discoveries, especially the first one, and I may delve further into Slaughter's work in the future. [DVD]
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW (1939)
In the 20's and 30's, Tod Slaughter was well known in England as a hammy star of stage and screen melodramas, most associated with the role of the killer barber Sweeney Todd (long before the Sondheim musical). As far as I can tell, the B-movie thrillers he made through the 30's and 40's didn't take off here in the States, but with the availability of the public-domain films on cheap DVDs, he has something of a cult following these days, and I was pleased to catch up with him over the holidays. The movies are stilted and low-budget but fun if you're not expecting too much. My problem with Slaughter (pictured below) is that he looks too much like Paul Ford, the jolly actor who played Mayor Shinn in THE MUSIC MAN, so it's difficult to take him seriously as a villian at first.
MARIA MARTEN, OR MURDER IN THE RED BARN, Slaughter's first film, is based on a play which was part of his regular repertory. He plays Corder, a well-liked village squire who throws dances for all the townsfolk, even the outcast gypsies, in his big red barn. He dances and flirts with lovely young Maria Marten (Sophie Stewart) but she is loved by Carlos, a hot-blooded gypsy boy (Eric Portman). An old gypsy fortune teller sees a hangman's noose in Slaughter's future, which rather puts a damper on the proceedings, but a few nights later, Maria sneaks away to be with Corder—it's unclear what the attraction is, as she looks sweet, virginal, and about 20 years old, while he looks a bit plumb and every bit his 50 years—but their rendezvous that night results in her pregnancy. By the time she tells Corder, he's on the verge of marrying a rich woman in order to pay off some gambling debts. When she threatens to expose him, he lures her to the barn and kills her (great line, delivered with blood and thunder by Slaughter: "You shall be a bride--a bride of DEATH!") and buries her there. Carlos helps the police figure out what's what, and Slaughter gets a good gone-round-the-bend climax. Gerard Tyrell is memorable as the comic relief village idiot who keeps getting cheated out of loose change by Slaughter.THE FACE AT THE WINDOW is set in 1880 France, where the police are stymied by a series of murders and robberies supposedly committed by a wolfman, whose horrible face appears at the window just before the murder occurs (a good special effect for the day). When a bank is robbed by the monster, the rich Chevalier (Slaughter) agrees to make a large deposit to help save the bank, but in return he asks the bank manager for his daughter's hand in marriage. However, the young lady is in love with a lowly bank clerk (John Warwick), so Slaughter incriminates Warwick in the robbery. Meanwhile, Warwick knows a doctor who is experimenting with re-animating dead beings; this plot thread comes into play in the main narrative when Warwick proposes bringing back a recently dead victim of the "wolfman" so they can identify the killer and clear his name. It's no spoiler to note that Slaughter is behind the "wolfman" racket, though the secret of the face at the window and the way in which Slaughter is unmasked are both worth sticking around for. Neither of these are exactly horror movies; they're more Gothic-tinged crime thrillers, but they're fun discoveries, especially the first one, and I may delve further into Slaughter's work in the future. [DVD]
Saturday, January 03, 2009
THANKS A MILLION (1935)
Fred Allen's traveling band gets stuck on a rainy night in a small town and happens upon a political rally for windbag politician Raymond Walburn, who is running for governor. His tiresome speech has the audience members trickling out in boredom, but when singer Dick Powell gets up and does a song, the reaction is electric. Allen agrees to have the band peform at all of Walburn's rallies, but Powell soon gets fired for being too good--the crowds start to leave after he's done, not sticking around for the often-inebriated candidate. Party boss Alan Dinehart sees a good thing when it's in front of him and asks Powell to run for governor instead, as a figurehead for the party. He agrees to do it, assuming he'll lose but hoping to get some good exposure for his singing, but soon he's ahead in the polls. Powell and the band enjoy the ride, but when the party tries to make his sign a contract promising specific state office appointments as favors, he rebels.
First of all, I must cry "Yikes!" at the fortuitous arrival of this film on Fox Movie Channel so close to the time that Illinois's Blagojevich scandal broke. It's always fun when a little-known classic-era flick becomes relevant to our 21st-century affairs. I had never heard of this film, but it's a little gem; the political satire, though broad, is fun, the songs are decent, and I enjoyed seeing hunorist Fred Allen, who I mostly know from reruns of early-50's episodes of What's My Line on Game Show Network, in a rare acting role; he's quite good, and I'm sorry he didn't do more sidekick roles like this. Dick Powell is at an interesting place in his career here: he'd just pushed past the "lead juvenile" part he could do in his sleep (the early 30's Gold Diggers films), but hadn't yet found his tough-guy niche (1944's MURDER MY SWEET). I found him quite handsome and charming here; his leading lady, Ann Dvorak, is fine in a less substantive role, and Walburn is very funny as the popeyed drunken politician. Also with Patsy Kelly and Paul Whiteman and his orchestra. A romantic stumbling-block plotline involving the party boss's wife fliriting with Powell is too half-hearted to work, but the rest of the film is quite enjoyable. [FMC]
Fred Allen's traveling band gets stuck on a rainy night in a small town and happens upon a political rally for windbag politician Raymond Walburn, who is running for governor. His tiresome speech has the audience members trickling out in boredom, but when singer Dick Powell gets up and does a song, the reaction is electric. Allen agrees to have the band peform at all of Walburn's rallies, but Powell soon gets fired for being too good--the crowds start to leave after he's done, not sticking around for the often-inebriated candidate. Party boss Alan Dinehart sees a good thing when it's in front of him and asks Powell to run for governor instead, as a figurehead for the party. He agrees to do it, assuming he'll lose but hoping to get some good exposure for his singing, but soon he's ahead in the polls. Powell and the band enjoy the ride, but when the party tries to make his sign a contract promising specific state office appointments as favors, he rebels.First of all, I must cry "Yikes!" at the fortuitous arrival of this film on Fox Movie Channel so close to the time that Illinois's Blagojevich scandal broke. It's always fun when a little-known classic-era flick becomes relevant to our 21st-century affairs. I had never heard of this film, but it's a little gem; the political satire, though broad, is fun, the songs are decent, and I enjoyed seeing hunorist Fred Allen, who I mostly know from reruns of early-50's episodes of What's My Line on Game Show Network, in a rare acting role; he's quite good, and I'm sorry he didn't do more sidekick roles like this. Dick Powell is at an interesting place in his career here: he'd just pushed past the "lead juvenile" part he could do in his sleep (the early 30's Gold Diggers films), but hadn't yet found his tough-guy niche (1944's MURDER MY SWEET). I found him quite handsome and charming here; his leading lady, Ann Dvorak, is fine in a less substantive role, and Walburn is very funny as the popeyed drunken politician. Also with Patsy Kelly and Paul Whiteman and his orchestra. A romantic stumbling-block plotline involving the party boss's wife fliriting with Powell is too half-hearted to work, but the rest of the film is quite enjoyable. [FMC]
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
MY YEAR IN CLASSIC MOVIES:
Below is my list of the 10 classic movies I saw for the first time this year which were either among the best or most interesting (not necessarily the same):
BLONDE ICE (1948)--Delirious nonsensical Poverty Row film noir with no stars but a ton of action involving bad people acting badly. Almost as good as DETOUR (which I reviewed this year, but had seen before).
THE BLUE LIGHT (1932)--Not the best of the German Mountain movies, but one that stays in the mind due to its imagery.
CRAIG'S WIFE (1936) and HARRIET CRAIG (1950)--Two versions of the same story, with enough differences in the plot points and performaces to make them both worth watching; Rosalind Russell ('36) and Joan Crawford ('50) are both excellent.
CULT OF THE COBRA (1956)--B-thriller about a woman who can turn into a cobra hunting down some GIs who desecrated a cult ceremony. Bland and ultimately disappointing, but different enough to make it worth a viewing, especially in its first 15 minutes.
THE DRAGON PAINTER (1919)--A wonderful way to discover the early career of Japanese actor Sessue Hayakawa in a fairy-tale-ish parable about love and art.
THE GHOST TRAIN (1941)--British B-comedy/thriller about train passangers stranded at a haunted station which isn't all that funny but has atmosphere to burn.
THE GUV'NOR (1935)--Another charming George Arliss comedy. The man is due for a critical revival.
HUMORESQUE (1946)--One of those movies I'd avoided, a romantic melodrama of the kind I have to be in the right mood for, but I enjoyed it immensely, with Joan Crawford giving what may be her best performance just before tipping into camp in the 50's, and John Garfield almost as good as her violin-playing lover.
I WAS AN ADVENTURESS (1940)--Not a great movie, but a fun novelty, with Erich von Stroheim in a rare comic role as a con man (with his partners Peter Lorre and Vera Zorina) out to fleece the idle rich. Essentially a B-movie version of Lubitsch's classic TROUBLE IN PARADISE.
MAN HUNT (1941)--Walter Pidgeon muffs his chance to kill Hitler and goes on the run from nasty Nazi George Sanders. Not at all realistic, but a solid example of a pre-WWII Hollywood spy thriller.
I also kinda liked the Lana Turner 60's paranoid drug flick THE BIG CUBE and some of the other movies that Warner Home Video put out in their "Camp Classics" series of boxed sets. I liked discovering 2 50's actors who should have had bigger careers, Don Murray (THE BACHELOR PARTY, HATFUL OF RAIN) and Anthony Franciosa (STORY ON PAGE ONE and w/Murray in HATFUL). I discovered the difference between Deanna Durbin (OK) and Sonja Henie (not so much). I was very happy to finally be able to see TOBACCO ROAD, which led me to read the original book, and finally I loved an early James Mason thriller THE UPTURNED GLASS, which just missed making the top 10.
Below is my list of the 10 classic movies I saw for the first time this year which were either among the best or most interesting (not necessarily the same):
BLONDE ICE (1948)--Delirious nonsensical Poverty Row film noir with no stars but a ton of action involving bad people acting badly. Almost as good as DETOUR (which I reviewed this year, but had seen before).
THE BLUE LIGHT (1932)--Not the best of the German Mountain movies, but one that stays in the mind due to its imagery.
CRAIG'S WIFE (1936) and HARRIET CRAIG (1950)--Two versions of the same story, with enough differences in the plot points and performaces to make them both worth watching; Rosalind Russell ('36) and Joan Crawford ('50) are both excellent.
CULT OF THE COBRA (1956)--B-thriller about a woman who can turn into a cobra hunting down some GIs who desecrated a cult ceremony. Bland and ultimately disappointing, but different enough to make it worth a viewing, especially in its first 15 minutes.
THE DRAGON PAINTER (1919)--A wonderful way to discover the early career of Japanese actor Sessue Hayakawa in a fairy-tale-ish parable about love and art.
THE GHOST TRAIN (1941)--British B-comedy/thriller about train passangers stranded at a haunted station which isn't all that funny but has atmosphere to burn.
THE GUV'NOR (1935)--Another charming George Arliss comedy. The man is due for a critical revival.
HUMORESQUE (1946)--One of those movies I'd avoided, a romantic melodrama of the kind I have to be in the right mood for, but I enjoyed it immensely, with Joan Crawford giving what may be her best performance just before tipping into camp in the 50's, and John Garfield almost as good as her violin-playing lover.
I WAS AN ADVENTURESS (1940)--Not a great movie, but a fun novelty, with Erich von Stroheim in a rare comic role as a con man (with his partners Peter Lorre and Vera Zorina) out to fleece the idle rich. Essentially a B-movie version of Lubitsch's classic TROUBLE IN PARADISE.
MAN HUNT (1941)--Walter Pidgeon muffs his chance to kill Hitler and goes on the run from nasty Nazi George Sanders. Not at all realistic, but a solid example of a pre-WWII Hollywood spy thriller.
I also kinda liked the Lana Turner 60's paranoid drug flick THE BIG CUBE and some of the other movies that Warner Home Video put out in their "Camp Classics" series of boxed sets. I liked discovering 2 50's actors who should have had bigger careers, Don Murray (THE BACHELOR PARTY, HATFUL OF RAIN) and Anthony Franciosa (STORY ON PAGE ONE and w/Murray in HATFUL). I discovered the difference between Deanna Durbin (OK) and Sonja Henie (not so much). I was very happy to finally be able to see TOBACCO ROAD, which led me to read the original book, and finally I loved an early James Mason thriller THE UPTURNED GLASS, which just missed making the top 10.
FOOLISH WIVES (1922)
Three Russian con artists pose as aristocrats, rent a villa near Monte Carlo, and use counterfeit money to gamble. The two women, Olga and Vera, pretend to be countesses and Sergius (Erich von Stroheim) poses as their cousin, the Count Karamzin. He is on the prowl for a rich woman to fleece and finds one in Helen, the young and restless wife of the staid and older (and newly arrived) American ambassador to Monaco. Karamzin is free to show her the sights, take her on boating trips, and help her out in the casinos. He even contrives to get her stuck with him overnight during a storm when they take refuge in an old woman's house in the marshes, but a monk who has also come in out of the rain winds up in the same room with them, putting the kibosh on that plan. As he ups the seduction attempts, he also carries on a lackluster affair with his plain-looking maid, whom he has promised to marry, and has designs on Marietta, the mentally handicapped daughter of his counterfeiter. Eventually Karamzin gets Helen alone in his villa and tells her he needs 90,000 francs to settle a debt of honor; she offers him the money, but the maid, overhearing them, sets the house on fire before throwing herself into the sea. When the count leaps to safety before Helen, he is disgraced and runs off in the night to sneak inside Marietta's window, apparently with rape on his mind. But the next morning, the counterfeiter drags Karamzin's dead body out of his house and stuffs it down the sewer. In the end, Helen appears to learn a "Wizard of Oz" lesson, to be happy with her stuffy old husband and not to seek exotic thrills outside of her own back yard.
This is one of the many movies Erich von Stroheim directed which were drastically edited down by studio bosses from several hours (over 6 in this case) to a more commercial running time. Most of the original cut is lost, but Kino's restoration, which comes in at around 2-1/2 hours, still manages to feel both too long (many individual scenes could be edited down a bit) and incomplete (we don't know what happens in the counterfeiter's house at the end, and the character of Vera seems totally unnecessary). Stills from his silents show Stroheim looking quite wicked and decadent, but here, his character is essentially a weak and desperate man trying to project both a charming and bullying persona, as needed. He actually comes off more like a naughty boy than a sinister lothario. Some of the acting is in the exaggerated silent style of the era, though Stroheim and Maude George as Olga are less mannered than the rest. This was the first movie which cost over a million dollars to make, mostly due to its sets, with Monte Carlo reconstructed faithfully, and many scenes are striking, such as the midnight storm and a water carnival. In an amusing self-referential joke, throughout the film, Helen is seen reading a book called "Foolish Wives" by Erich von Stroheim. [DVD]
Three Russian con artists pose as aristocrats, rent a villa near Monte Carlo, and use counterfeit money to gamble. The two women, Olga and Vera, pretend to be countesses and Sergius (Erich von Stroheim) poses as their cousin, the Count Karamzin. He is on the prowl for a rich woman to fleece and finds one in Helen, the young and restless wife of the staid and older (and newly arrived) American ambassador to Monaco. Karamzin is free to show her the sights, take her on boating trips, and help her out in the casinos. He even contrives to get her stuck with him overnight during a storm when they take refuge in an old woman's house in the marshes, but a monk who has also come in out of the rain winds up in the same room with them, putting the kibosh on that plan. As he ups the seduction attempts, he also carries on a lackluster affair with his plain-looking maid, whom he has promised to marry, and has designs on Marietta, the mentally handicapped daughter of his counterfeiter. Eventually Karamzin gets Helen alone in his villa and tells her he needs 90,000 francs to settle a debt of honor; she offers him the money, but the maid, overhearing them, sets the house on fire before throwing herself into the sea. When the count leaps to safety before Helen, he is disgraced and runs off in the night to sneak inside Marietta's window, apparently with rape on his mind. But the next morning, the counterfeiter drags Karamzin's dead body out of his house and stuffs it down the sewer. In the end, Helen appears to learn a "Wizard of Oz" lesson, to be happy with her stuffy old husband and not to seek exotic thrills outside of her own back yard.
This is one of the many movies Erich von Stroheim directed which were drastically edited down by studio bosses from several hours (over 6 in this case) to a more commercial running time. Most of the original cut is lost, but Kino's restoration, which comes in at around 2-1/2 hours, still manages to feel both too long (many individual scenes could be edited down a bit) and incomplete (we don't know what happens in the counterfeiter's house at the end, and the character of Vera seems totally unnecessary). Stills from his silents show Stroheim looking quite wicked and decadent, but here, his character is essentially a weak and desperate man trying to project both a charming and bullying persona, as needed. He actually comes off more like a naughty boy than a sinister lothario. Some of the acting is in the exaggerated silent style of the era, though Stroheim and Maude George as Olga are less mannered than the rest. This was the first movie which cost over a million dollars to make, mostly due to its sets, with Monte Carlo reconstructed faithfully, and many scenes are striking, such as the midnight storm and a water carnival. In an amusing self-referential joke, throughout the film, Helen is seen reading a book called "Foolish Wives" by Erich von Stroheim. [DVD]
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