KING OF THE JUNGLE (1933)

The Knolls family gets a permit to go into lion country in Kenya on a photographic safari. When lions attack their camp, the parents are killed but their 5-year-old son survives and is raised by a lion family as if he were a cub. Years later, he's all grown-up, wearing a loincloth and living with the lions (whom he communicates with by roaring) and sometimes protecting them. We pick the story up again as a rancher (Douglas Dumbrille) is trying to ward off attacks by lions on his cattle—the lions are starving due to drought and desperate for food. Crabbe sneaks onto his property and lets the cattle loose for the lions to feast on. Hunter Robert Barrat, who is looking to trap some lions to sell to circus manager Sidney Toler, tells Dumbrille that it was probably the work of the rumored Lion Man. They set up their own trap for the lions and manage to bag a handful, and the Lion Man as well. Sent to the States, Crabbe jumps off the ship as it comes into the harbor, gets to land, jumps through the first suburban dining room window he sees, and starts eating off the freshly set plates. He is discovered by Frances Dee who wants to help him, but her friend calls the police and Crabbe is taken back to Toler. Dee winds up accompanying him and becomes a friend, teacher, and confidante (and perhaps a romantic interest, though that is mostly downplayed). At the circus, Toler ends up putting Crabbe on salary and featuring him in a lion taming act and he's a hit—as he also is with some of the female members of the circus troupe. He tells Dee that his plan is to make enough money to buy the lions and take them back to Kenya. Things go sideways when a hired hand (Warner Richmond) taunts one of the lions and gets his hand bitten off; for revenge, he tries to poison the lion. Toler catches him, but not before he has set a fire that rages through the circus, setting off lions, a tiger, and some elephants. Can Crabbe save the day?

Clearly, this was a mid-budget attempt by Paramount to steal some of MGM's A-budget Tarzan thunder a year after the first Ape Man movie was released. Supposedly Crabbe, a swimming champ, tried out the role of Tarzan but lost it to Johnny Weissmuller, also a swimming champ. But though there are similarities in the backstory, this quickly sets itself up in a different direction, with the bulk of the movie set in the States as Crabbe becomes civilized and educated. Whereas Tarzan (in the first couple of movies at least) remains in a relatively uncivilized state of nature, Crabbe can pass for fully socialized in manner and dress—though he continues to wear that abbreviated loincloth in his circus act, which not only shows off Crabbe's nice physique, but also his comely ass (it's basically a thong). His somewhat light vocal delivery lacks danger, making him a less threatening figure than Tarzan. Frances Dee is nicely befuddled at first but grows to truly care for Crabbe (his character is given the name Kaspa by Toler, which has no significance). I like there are few real villains here: Toler, who is in fact engaging in human trafficking, treats Crabbe well; Barrat is just doing his job (frowned upon nowadays though it may be), and Dumbrille is justified in trying to save his cattle—once we leave Africa, we hear no more about those two. Only Richmond is a hissable bad guy, and he's not around long enough to think about much. The fiery climax is well done. This was a pleasant surprise, and if there had been a sequel, I'd watch it with pleasure. Crabbe (best known as Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers in the 30s serials) would eventually play Tarzan later that year in the serial TARZAN THE FEARLESS, which is now considered lost but can be seen in an 85-minute feature film version. Pictured are Toler, Crabbe and Dee. [YouTube]

NIGHT SLAVES (1970)

Clay Howard is dropping out of the rat race, selling his half of his business to his partner, Matt Russell, while his wife Marjorie, who happens to be having an affair with Matt, is planning on leaving Clay. But when Clay gets in a serious car accident which kills two other people, a metal plate is put in his head, and weeks later, for rest and recreation, he and his wife stop at a boarding house in a small town on a short, impromptu vacation. That night, Clay wakes up to see hordes of townspeople sleepwalking their way onto trucks that are driven out of town. He's even more shocked when he sees his wife among them. Clay tries to stop her but she, like the others, is unresponsive. The only person who seems conscious is a silent giggling girl who takes him back to his room. The next morning, everything seems back to normal. Marjorie, the sheriff and the townspeople seem not to know what happened and tell Clay he must have dreamed it. But that night, it happens again. [Spoiler!] It turns out that the giggling girl is possessed by an alien force named Naillil who, along with another alien (Noel) in the person of the town simpleton, is forcing the townsfolk to devote their nights to helping to rebuild their spaceship which crashed just outside of town. Clay is immune to their mental commands because of the plate in his head. Naillil says her people are basically energy beings who are forbidden from falling in love, but of course, that's what she's doing with Clay. It seems improbable, but could a happy ending be in store for these two? The climax involves a lynch mob (the townsfolk think Clay might be a murderer), the arrival of Matt Russell, and a somewhat ambiguous ending.

This TV movie, which resembles a relatively benign Invasion of the Body Snatchers, tries for a while to keep up the possibility that all the small town nighttime weirdness is in Clay's head, but the sci-fi explanation kicks in about halfway through, which causes the well-wrought tension of the first half to collapse, and the ending, though unexpected, is a bit disappointing. Its short run time doesn't allow any real character development, and poor Matt (Scott Marlowe), with little to do, seems to have been thrown into the mix at the last minute. James Franciscus, handsome and hunky as usual (pictured), is pretty good as the confused Clay, though his need to escape the rat race is never examined and is unimportant to the plot until the last few minutes. He has some chemistry with Lee Grant, as Marjorie but none with Tisha Sterling who is dull as dishwater as Naillil. Andrew Prine is a bit better as Noel; he gets to play two different personalities as the slow-witted Fess and the smart alien, whereas Stirling mostly just plays one persona. Leslie Neilsen is adequate as the sheriff. By the 45 minute mark, the film has run out of steam and the last half hour feels padded out, especially with no believable attraction between Franciscus and Stirling. At one point, it's pointed out that Noel and Naillil are the names of Clay's accident victims, Leon and Lillian, backwards, a gimmick thrown in to make us briefly think this all might just be a hallucination. It ends up being an unconventional romance between two people with no chemistry—a fairly meh experience. [YouTube]

TEENAGE MONSTER (1957)

In June, 1880, on the outskirts of an Old West town, Ruth, her husband Jim and their 10-year-old son Charlie are hunting for gold in a cave when a meteor falls from the sky, killing Jim and scarring Charlie's face. Seven years later, Charlie has become a large, hairy, deformed man, still with the mind of a child, barely able to communicate. He and his mother have been living in an isolated cave while Ruth still looks for gold. Occasionally the restless Charlie escapes, killing cattle and sheep, scaring children, and sometimes killing a person who stumbles into his path. Ruth finally discovers a vein of gold, buys a small house, and keeps Charlie isolated in an upstairs bedroom. She also begins a mild flirtation with Bob, the local sheriff. Jealous of the attention his mom is giving to someone else, Charlie eventually attacks Kathy, a young waitress. Ruth pays Kathy not to tell anyone, and to live with them as a companion. When Kathy's boyfriend Marv finds out she has money, he takes the money from her, and she gets Charlie to kill Marv for her. Eventually, Kathy starts blackmailing Ruth, then decides to get Charlie to kill both Ruth and Bob. There are unhappy endings all around.

The thing anyone who has seen this movie will tell you first is that there isn't really a teenage monster—the actor playing the "teenaged" Charlie, Gil Perkins, is fifty and looks it, and the hairy monster makeup ages him even more. The second thing they'll tell you is that the movie isn't very good. It isn't, not even as a campy good-bad movie. It was made because the producer needed a second feature to run with his slightly better B-horror film THE BRAIN FROM PLANET AROUS. At least two of the cast members are legitimate actors with careers: Anne Gwynne (Ruth) who appeared in over fifty B-films and TV shows from 1939 to the 1950s, and Gloria Castillo (Kathy), known to sci-fi fans for INVASION OF THE SAUCER MEN. They both overact, as does Gil Perkins (the monster), who had a long career in TV and in stunt work. Perkins growls his dialogue in a way that makes it understandable only half the time. The slightly manic edge brought to the performances encourages kinky psychological readings of the plot that were almost certainly not intended by the filmmakers. Stuart Wade, as Bob, gives the only low-key performance, but it doesn't help. The repetition of the monster constantly escaping and his mother constantly telling him not to gets wearying. The director, Jacques R. Marquette, was mostly a producer and cinematographer and never directed another film. Not recommended. Pictured are Perkins and Castillo. [YouTube]

MONSIEUR HULOT’S HOLIDAY (1953)

This French film, directed by and starring Jacques Tati, has been described as a farce, a slice-of-life comedy, a character-driven film, a film with no character development, and the last great silent movie even though it's not silent (though it's true that sound effects play a more important role than spoken dialogue). Most everyone agrees that it's essentially plotless, and what plot there is occurs in the first few minutes. We see a crowd of people at a French train station heading off for vacations, listening to virtually unintelligible announcements over a loudspeaker, then tromping up and down staircases to get to their trains. A crowd of vacation people get on a bus, and in the confusion, a toddler winds up in the bus driver's lap. At a resort, vacationers arrive, including the lovely and unflappable Martine, who takes a room by herself at a beachside house. Finally, a rattletrap old car pulls up to the resort area and M. Hulot, a tall, lanky man who walks with a stiff, stuttering gait, goes into a resort inn, unaware of the chaos that ensues in the lobby when stiff breezes blow in with him. What follows is roughly 90 minutes of physical comedy played out in short vignettes by Hulot and his fellow vacationers. Hulot has the habit of unintentionally spreading chaos (the breezes at the beginning, accidentally crashing a funeral, setting off fireworks), but the film doesn't just focus on him—we see the adventure of a little boy carrying two ice cream cones trying to open a door; two men colliding while staring at the same woman; and a mule causing trouble by kicking through its shed. People go on hikes, ride horses, and form exercise groups on the beach. Aside from the farcical incidents, nothing really happens. People get to the beach, spend time on the beach (and often, in the hotel, just reading or listening to the radio), and leave the beach. No romances develop; I expected one to occur between Hulot and Martine, but they barely interact. The film's pace is a bit slow, and many of the comedy bits elicit only smiles or mild chuckles. Still, it's very fun in a quiet way, and you can see the influence Tati has had on Monty Python and Rowan Atkinson's Mr. Bean.

There is a jaunty jazzy score (newly added by Tati when he revamped the film for re-release in 1978, when he also apparently added a sight gag inspired by the movie Jaws). The sound effects (the wind, the hinges on a door, a ping pong game) draw more attention than the bits of overheard dialogue. Tati is careful not to let Hulot become too obviously the butt of the jokes, though because he is often so oblivious, he doesn't become a heartwarming character, just a sort of everyman bumbling through his day. Tati is sometimes compared to Chaplin, but I also saw some Harold Lloyd in him. My favorite scenes involve Hulot's unique tennis style: standing rigid, thrusting his racket out and back, then smashing the ball (pictured at top). This never failed to make me laugh, and what makes it funnier is that because he tends to win, others imitate him, including a boy playing ping pong. He also uses short but elaborate ritualistic movements when he goes through doors. Though Hulot is definitely a character, we know nothing about him except what we see him do. This is my first Tati film, and I'll probably line a couple more up soon. [TCM]

BEHIND THAT CURTAIN (1929)

Hilary Galt is holding dirt on two men: noted explorer Colonel John Beetham (information about illegal financial dealings which Beetham insists is false) and playboy Eric Durand (a philandering gold digger who wants to marry Sir George Mannering's niece Eve). The night before Mannering is about to collect the dirt about Durand, Galt is murdered in his office, some papers are stolen, and Galt's body is found wearing a pair of Chinese slippers which were a gift from Beetham. As Scotland Yard inspector Frederick Bruce investigates, Mannering realizes he'll never get the evidence he needs against Durand, after which Eve spills the news that she and Durand got married in secret the night before. Beetham comes under suspicion; Bruce is sure it can't be him and continues working on the case. Months later, Durand and Eve are living unhappily in India. He's having a fling with Nuna, the native housemaid, and is being blackmailed by the night watchman at the Galt building who figured out he was the killer. Eve returns from shopping one day to find Durand and Nuna in a post-coital haze, and later when she meets Beetham, who is crossing Asia in a caravan, she runs off with him. Bruce catches up with Beetham and finds out that the slippers worn by Galt had actually belonged to Eve. For her part, Eve leaves the caravan, now a possible suspect in the murder, and heads to San Francisco where she gets a job as an elevator operator. Eventually, Beetham, Bruce and Durand all wind up there as well and, with a little help from local detective Charlie Chan, the case is solved.

This is usually cited as the earliest Chan movie still in existence, but oddly, Chan only appears in the last fifteen minutes and has little to do, though he does get an amusing scene in which he scolds a young saxophone-playing man who replies, good-naturedly, “Hotsi-totsi, Mr. Chan!” (Pictured at left.) He also plays a crucial role in the climax. The novel this is based on, by Earl Derr Biggers, the third of his six Chan books, is completely centered on Chan so it's strange that the adaptation would erase him. The main story is the same though the novel plays out over the period of several years, with a second murder case and a central romantic couple not in the film. It also takes place entirely in San Francisco with some backstory flashbacks which become the bulk of this movie. Taken on its own as just a melodrama, it's tolerable—though as an early sound film, I imagine modern viewers will be bored by its slow pace, the draggy delivery of some of the dialogue, and the lack of a background score. I liked Warner Baxter and Lois Moran as Beetham and Eve, and Philip Strange is effective as the decadent villain Durand. A Chinese American actor who went by the name E.L. Park plays Chan; he is rather stiff and he never made another movie, so it's hard to judge how good he would have been if he'd been in other Chan films. Boris Karloff has a small role as Beetham's manservant, but he gets a nicely portentous line: "The desert gives, and the desert takes away." Another line, "Fear and love make their own destiny," spoken by Bruce (Gilbert Emery), sounds good though I'm not sure what it means. At ninety minutes, it does drag in places, but I think classic-era film buffs will enjoy this, though if you're looking for a Charlie Chan mystery, this isn't it—it also isn't really a mystery as we know all along who was behind the murder. The title is just a metaphor about finding what's hidden, and it's used more effectively in the novel. Pictured at top are Lois Moran and Philip Strange. [DVD]

IN THE SHADOW OF THE EAGLES (1966)

In the early years of the Common Era, Rome is dealing with a barbarian uprising in the remote province of Pannonia. Rome sends centurion Marcus Ventidius to deal with it. The barbarian leader Magdo is inclined to seek peace and blames young upstart Batone, who wants to continue the attacks, for being the reason for Rome's anger. Magdo's daughter Helen is supposed to marry Batone but Magdo has changed his mind, calling Batone bloodthirsty. Marcus visits his lover Julia before heading out to the battlefield with his assistant Publius. After a battle, Magdo and Julia are captured with other women and children and held hostage by Marcus, who finds himself captivated, if you will, by Helen. Julia, jealous, bribes guards to ensure that Magdo and Julia escape. When Marcus finds out what has happened, he turns his back on Julia. The Roman governor Messala orders the destruction of Pannonia leading to a major battle scene, and eventually to a peace which is settled between Helen and Marcus. 

Despite the title, this is not a documentary about 70s bands like Poco or Firefall that were overshadowed by the Eagles. Here, Eagle refers to the battle standard of the Romans. This Italian film came late in the prime peplum era and is not loved by Barry Atkinson, author of Heroes Never Die, the authoritative book on peplum cinema. I agree with him to some extent that it feels a little low energy, especially the performance of  American actor Cameron Mitchell (pictured) as Marcus. His physical presence seems diminished and he sort of sleepwalks through his part. Being filmed in Yugoslavia in the winter, with snow on the ground and actors' breath in the air, might have contributed to Mitchell's lack of enthusiasm, in addition to Mitchell being close to 50. But overall, the movie is decent, with good sets, adequate performances by others, and a lengthy and nicely done battle scene at the climax. Alex Medar is quite good as the well-meaning Magdo, and Alex Gavin is fine as Batone. There is some disagreement out there about the spelling of character names and even about which actors played what roles, with the usually dependable IMDb giving two different actors the role of Publius. I have gone with what seemed right to me (and it's clearly Dieter Eppler playing Publius, not Remo De Angelis). One of the best scenes involves Batone forcing Marcus to run barefoot three times over flaming coals; the makeup on the feet afterwards is quite effective. Though this is generally regarded as a peplum film, there are no muscles or bare chests present here. I think that the historical peplums (as opposed to the mythical ones) might deserve a separate name of their own—which I guess would be "historical peplums"! [YouTube]

THE SKY DRAGON (1948)

The last entry in the long Charlie Chan series, featuring the sixth and final appearance of Roland Winters as the Chinese detective, is a disappointment. Things begin promisingly as Chan and his son Lee (Keye Luke) get on a small commercial plane heading to San Francisco. We meet some of the passengers, including a follies showgirl and an insurance company courier who is carrying a satchel full of cash, and crew members, including the pilot, co-pilot, stewardess (who is the pilot's main squeeze) and a stewardess in training. We soon realize that some folks on board have secrets that will come to the surface (for example, the new stewardess is using a false name and is the showgirl's sister). Someone drugs the onboard coffee, everyone falls asleep, and the courier is stabbed to death, his money gone, presumably thrown out of the plane by parachute. While the action is confined to the plane, the movie achieves the kind of pleasurable tension that train movies often have, but unfortunately, once the plane lands and the cops, including series regular Lieutenant Mike (Tim Ryan), arrive, things slow down. More secrets and hidden connections are revealed and, as in so many episodes of Midsomer Murders, events of the past are key to unraveling the mystery. The cast is not to blame for the blandness of this movie. Winters, Luke, Ryan, and eventually, Mantan Moreland as Chan's chauffeur, are as entertaining as usual, and there is good support from Milburn Stone (the competent pilot), Joel Marston (the cleancut co-pilot), Noel Neill (the pilot's gal), Iris Adrian (the showgirl), Lyle Talbot (Adrian's husband, maybe), Elena Verdugo (the showgirl's sister), and John Eldredge (the insurance company boss). The writing is weak; I lost track of the mystery in the last 15 minutes and didn't really care. Direction and sets are barely adequate, and the pace slackens a good deal once we get off the plane. The climax has Chan bringing all the living passengers and crew back on the plane for a suspect roundup that does bring some energy back, but too little too late. With the character of Tommy not present, Lee reverts from being mature and responsible in the previous film to being mostly comic relief, although his training to become a commercial pilot comes in handy for a few minutes. B-movie watchable, but not one of the better Winters-as-Chan films. Winters went on to a lengthy career in supporting roles in movies and TV; his biggest role might be as Elvis Presley's dad in Blue Hawaii. I'm planning on going back and rewatching some of the previous 40-something Chan films over the summer so there will be a few more reviews. Pictured are Stone, Neill and Luke. [DVD]

THE HOLE IN THE WALL (1929)

Madame Mystera is a medium with a number of gullible rich folks who come to her to hear messages from the dearly departed. Actually, she is part of a crime ring that uses information from the rich to steal jewels. A man known as The Fox (Edward G. Robinson) is the leader of the group. Jim, a pickpocket, and Goofy, a bootlegger, are his associates, and a former circus wildman called Dogface is a hanger-on; he has a mental disability of some sort that leads him occasionally to howl like a dog, and mostly he's kept in a bed in a room to make creepy noises during their seances. One night, Madame Mystera is killed in a train wreck. The Fox puts Goofy in a dress and veil and tries to pass him off as the medium, but that is clearly nor a long-term solution. Meanwhile, Jean Oliver (Claudette Colbert) is a jailbird looking for a job who heard about the Fox's set-up in the slammer. The Fox sets her up as Madame Mystera. Her long game is to get revenge against the rich Mrs. Ramsey, who set Jean up to get sent to prison because she didn't want her son to marry her. After the gang identifies the Madame's body as that of Jean Oliver, Jean's plan is to kidnap Mrs. Ramsey's granddaughter, raise her as a criminal, then years later, show Mrs. Ramsey what has become of the girl. Jean is good at the medium swindle, but the gang has perhaps been a little sloppy in their thievery, and soon the cops have made a tenuous connection between the Madame and the rash of jewel thefts. A reporter, Gordon Grant, once a beau of Jean's, comes calling to get some details. The little girl is kidnapped (and treated very nicely by the whole gang), the Fox falls for Jean, and Jean has warm feelings for Gordon even though she can't reveal herself to him. In the end, an actual paranormal event leads to the busy climax.

I suspect that viewers with little experience watching very early talkies would not stick with this. The whole thing feels rather creaky, with a plodding pace, flubs left in, and times when actors seem to be waiting for a signal to start speaking. It's also quite stagy, with most of the action taking place in the gang's lair (it's got a nice creepy atmosphere, somewhere between art deco and German expressionism). This was the first talkie for both Robinson and Colbert and they're fine. He plays the kind of gangster role for which he became famous, though this part isn't as showy as his breakout role in Little Caesar a couple of years later. Colbert goes a bit against her later persona as a high-class romantic heroine. Donald Meek (Goofy), one of my favorite character actors, is good, as is David Newell as Gordon Grant, who despite being second-billed doesn't have a lot to do. Directed blandly by Robert Florey who forged a long career directing in television. There are plot problems: Why don't we ever see the little girl's parents? Why is Dogface even around? Why aren't people more freaked out by the supernatural intervention at the end? For all its weaknesses, it did keep me watching and involved. Pictured are Colbert and Newell. [YouTube]

THE CHINESE RING (1947) / SHANGHAI CHEST (1948)

In THE CHINESE RING, a Chinese woman comes to Charlie Chan's house, and though his butler Birmingham Brown tries to get rid of her, she gives him a ring to show Chan that indicates she is royalty. But before Chan can talk to her, she is killed by a poison dart gun shot from the window of Chan’s study. As she dies, she scrawls the name "Capt. K" on the desk blotter. The dead woman is Princess Mei Ling who was in the process of having a shipment of planes sent to her warlord brother in China. Chan and police officer Bill Davidson discover two Captain Ks: Captain Kong, the captain of the Shanghai Maid, the ship the planes were supposed to be on, and Captain Kelso, head of Kelso Aviation, maker of the planes. The princess had a million dollars to draw on to pay for the planes and the transportation, but Chan learns that most of that money is gone and unaccounted for. With the unwanted help of feisty reporter Peggy Cartwright (who seems to be casually dating Davidson), Chan and Davidson try to track down the killer, who strikes again by killing Mei Ling's maid with the same dart gun. This is the first of six Charlie Chan films with Roland Winters as Chan (pictured) These were also the last six Chan movies in the lengthy series that started in 1929. Going against critical consensus, I have found that Winters' portrayal of Chan is perfectly acceptable, though this introductory film is not the strongest of the batch. The antics of the supporting characters Tommy (Victor Sen Yung) and Birmingham (Mantan Moreland) are amusing, but the storyline is both convoluted and underwritten, and at just 70 minutes, it bogs down in the middle. For some reason, though Victor Sen Yung played Chan's son Jimmy in many of the earlier films, in the Winters movies his name is Tommy. No one has a good theory as to why. Warren Douglas is bland but serviceable as the cop, as is Louise Currie as the reporter. My favorite scene in the movie has Douglas manhandling Currie, followed by Currie slugging him. I was so surprised by her reaction that I yelped out loud. Philip Ahn is fine as Kong as is Byron Foulger as the banker. Not the best of the Winters Six but watchable.

SHANGHAI CHEST begins as someone sneaks into Judge Armstrong's study and goes through the papers on his desk. When the judge enters, the intruder stabs him. Vic, the judge's nephew, who had been denied entrance to the house by the butler, comes into the study through the window and is knocked out by the killer. Despite this, Vic is the chief suspect in the judge's murder; he knew that his uncle was planning to disinherit him due to his mishandling of the judge's finances. Vic's fingerprints are found on the murder weapon, but so are the prints of Tony Pindello, a killer who was executed six months ago. Charlie Chan helps police lieutenant Mike Ruark (known as Lt. Mike) investigate. When the local D.A. is shot and killed a couple of days later, Tony's fingerprints are again found at the scene. Chan soon discovers that Judge Armstrong, who had sentenced Tony to death, had recently found evidence that Tony may have been innocent, and his case may have a bearing on an insurance swindle that the D.A. was investigating. When Tony's grave is opened, his body is gone. The jurors on Tony's case are put under police protection, but one man who can't be found turns up hanged. This is looking like revenge from the grave; can Chan and Lt. Mike find a flesh and blood killer behind this carnage? This is the third Roland Winters Chan movie and it's totally average in quality. Victor Sen Yung is again Chan's son Tommy and Mantan Moreland is again Birmingham Brown. In a weird but amusing scene, Brown sees actor Willie Best (playing himself) in jail for loitering in a bank—at midnight. Tim Ryan plays Lt. Mike for the first of three such appearances, and he's an asset. A fairly bland supporting cast includes John Alvin, Deannie Best and Erville Alderson. Milton Parsons is somewhat memorable as a creepy undertaker. The title means nothing—at no point is a Shanghai chest presented or referred to. (I’m avoiding making a pun about a Chinese man’s torso.) [DVD]

THE LADY REFUSES (1931)

Hungry, unemployed and desperate, June is wandering the foggy night streets of London, attempting to start a business as a streetwalker—a cop says she must be new to be out on such a night. As the police close in on her, she stumbles to the door of a fancy townhouse where Sir Gerald, seeing her plight and feeling sorry for her, takes her in, telling the police that she is his niece. Sir Gerald is a bit down as his playboy son Russell has once again dashed Gerald's plans for a nice dinner together in order to go out on the town with his latest gold digging paramour Berthine—who has a jealous admirer/pimp (I was never sure how their relationship was supposed to work) named Nikolai. Gerald shares his disappointment with June who tries to give him advice by telling him that there are two times when no one should try to advise a man: when he's drinking too much and when he's in love with the wrong kind of woman. But Gerald doesn't listen: he hires June to get Russell out of Berthine's arms, and figures getting him off alcohol will be a side effect. June proves good at her work; their very first night together, he's drunk, she takes him to her apartment (which Sir Gerald has provided) and he wakes up confused but under her good influence. Over time, Russell stops partying, quits seeing Berthine, and gets serious about his architectural work. But June has fallen in love—not with Russell but with Sir Gerald. When this comes out, so does the information that June has been doing Sir Gerald's bidding. Gerald fears he's lost his son and, to help them make up, she goes into full Cockney hooker mode to make Russell think that she's no good. Just when you thought the melodramatics couldn't be dialed up anymore, Berthine is found dead and Russell is blamed, though we're sure the culprit is that nasty piece of work, Nikolai. The ending is interesting if not totally satisfying.

This pre-code melodrama, which starts out almost as a drawing room comedy, is interesting rather than compelling. One problem is a total lack of characterization. I feel like fifteen minutes of backstory is missing. And partly due to this, we have to take a lot of the plot points on faith. For example, it's not clear why Sir Gerald trusts June to start with. There is zero chemistry between the nearly 60-year-old Gerald and the 20-something June, and why she falls for him is a total mystery, unless the attraction is misguided gratitude. I was never sure if June and Russell were sleeping together (it doesn’t seem like it) but then we're not given any reason to buy Russell's transformation, which happens far too quickly. I never knew exactly what the relationship between Berthine and Nikolai was. And so on. It's a B-movie from RKO, which means production values are good, but the acting is scattershot, and I’m willing to blame the problematic script for some of this. I've never been a fan of Betty Compson (June) and this movie doesn't change my mind. She lacks an inner spark that would help make her character rounder, though she does pull off the closing hooker persona well. David Farrow is handsome and, I don't know, 'fluffy' as Russell. I'm not sure what I mean by that, but he is the most charismatic performer here. Gilbert Emery (Sir Gerald) is about average in a fairly non-demanding role. Ivan Lebedeff barely has to act at all as Nikolai, just look severe and dangerous. Margaret Livingston is OK as Berthine. My favorite lines: Gerald's butler thinks cocktails are too modern to serve: "They even put ice in them in America." Gerald: "I don't think we'll go that far." Pictured are Livingston and Darrow. [TCM]

THE GOLDEN EYE (1948)

Manning, owner of the Golden Eye mine in Arizona, is in San Francisco and visits a Chinatown curio shop to speak to his old friend Wong Fai. Manning says his mine and his life are in danger and he asks about getting in touch with Charlie Chan for help. While Wong phones Chan, Manning is shot at from the street but not hurt. Chan agrees to take on his case and, along with son Tommy and chauffeur Birmingham Brown, heads out to a dude ranch, The Lazy-Y, near Manning's mine. At the pool, Chan observes a rather ostentatiously drunken guest named O'Brien, who is actually police lieutenant Mike Ruark undercover, looking into why the Golden Eye has suddenly gone from being almost fallow to producing a large increase in gold, and Lt. Mike cultivates a relationship with Driscoll, the mine superintendent, to get more info. Visiting Manning's home, Chan meets up Manning's daughter Evelyn and local assayer Bartlett (who seems a bit sweet on Evelyn), and finds out that Manning had a serious injury in the mine and is recovering in his bedroom, wrapped in bandages and unable to speak, under the constant supervision of a somewhat suspicious nursing sister (in a plot point borrowed from THE LADY VANISHES). In short order, Chan and Lt. Mike discover a gold smuggling operation, with cheap Mexican gold brought in across the border and passed off as coming from a new vein of gold at the mine. Given the small number of characters, it's not difficult to figure out who is behind the operation, but how will Chan expose the guilty party?

This entry in the Charlie Chan series, featuring the fourth appearance of Roland Winters as Chan, is a bit above average if only due to the unusual Arizona setting. Winters is fine, Mantan Moreland steals most of his comic relief scenes as Birmingham, and Victor Sen Yung is, once again, son Tommy. Tim Ryan, in his second appearance as Lt. Mike is good, though his drunk scenes come perilously close to going over the top. The amateurish Wanda McKay barely registers as the daughter. There are really only two possible bad guys; as Bartlett, Bruce Kellogg gives the best supporting cast performance more or less by default, since Ralph Dunn is fairly colorless as Driscoll. The very best moment in the film is the final minute: after Chan has explained the case, Birmingham turns directly to the camera in wide-eyed wonder and says, "Ain’t that somethin'? Good gracious me!" This might not turn you into a Winters fan but it's enjoyable if you already are. Pictured are Kellogg, McKay and Winters. [DVD]

THE FEATHERED SERPENT (1948)

We open with an exposition dump presented by a group of people at a streetside cafe in a Mexican village. Professors Scott and Farnsworth were searching for a lost Aztec city but have gone missing, and this group, which includes professors, fiancées and relatives, has vowed to find them. Meanwhile, Charlie Chan, on a vacation road trip in Mexico with his number one and two sons, Lee and Tommy, and his chauffeur Birmingham Brown, find an older man collapsed in the nearby desert. It turns out he is Prof. Scott, who says that he and Farnsworth found the city but have been held captive and forced to decipher hieroglyphics which tell the whereabouts of a hidden fortune. Scott is knifed in the dark and Chan agrees to join the search since Farnsworth is a friend of his. One of the search party members, however, is the villain behind the hostage taking, though one is also a police spy in disguise. One by one, people find the secret entrance to the city and one by one, get captured by the bad guy, though there is more than one baddie in the mix. But with Chan and sons on the case, justice will prevail. The fifth of six movies with Roland Winters as Chan, this is notable primarily for being the only entry in the 47-film series to feature two sons in action with their dad. Victor Sen Yung plays the youthful and bumbling Tommy, and Keye Luke is the older "number one" son Lee. Luke played this character, also youthful and bumbling at the time, in several of the 1930s Chan films. It's fun to see the contrast here between the more mature Lee and his kid brother, and they get to kick some bad guy ass in the end. Interestingly, Luke and Winters in real life were the same age, and Yung was only eleven years younger than Winters. As in all the Winters movies (and many earlier ones), Mantan Moreland is a comic relief standout as Birmingham. I noticed here that Moreland pronounces "Tommy" as "Toe-mee"; I don't know if that is an accent thing or what, but he does it in all the Winters films. Included in the mostly colorless supporting cast is Nils Asther, whose career peaked in 1932 with The Bitter Tea of General Yen. Busy character actor Erville Alderson, who seemed to specialize in older and sickly roles, is old and sickly as the ill-fated Prof. Scott; Robert Livingston is OK as Prof. Stanley. Things begin to drag a bit in the last half, and the promise of the somewhat exotic setting is fulfilled only a bit by the Aztec temple set. Despite the title, the serpent is a tiny part of the story, and its name, Quetzalcoatl, is never mentioned. Pictured from left are Yung, Luke, Winters and Moreland. [DVD]

WAR OF THE PLANETS (1966)

A narrator intones this bit of profound philosophy: "The universe is endless and timeless—who knows how it all began?" This has nothing to do with the story which begins on a New Year's Eve in the future as the population of the space station Gamma 1 celebrates with dancing, drinking, and putting on spectacular tableaux shared with the other space stations of the World's United Democracies on video displays, like spacewalk acrobatics done to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne," or an array of dozens of astronauts floating in space spelling out Happy New Year like a band at a college football game. But troubles are about to arise. On Earth, people are concerned that Captain Dubois of Space Command has not turned up for his shift. We see him attacked by glowing green clouds of gas, and we realize later that he has been possessed by invisible alien forces, called Diaphanoids; they are referred to as "bodiless patterns of energy" who act a bit like Star Trek's Borg in taking over individual beings (called hosting) for the greater force. A distress call from the space station Delta 2 ends the partying. Commander Mike takes a small crew, including his girlfriend Connie and his buddy Jake, to Delta 2 where they find the crew members frozen in place, not quite alive but not yet dead. When Dubois shows up on Earth, he is said to have "gone galaxy," but he's actually now a spokesperson for the aliens and heads up plans to possess some of the Delta 2 folks and dispose of the rest. There is much more to the plot but I am pretty unsure about the details, so I'll leave the summary right here.

Despite a confusing narrative and cheap effects (green gas is a lot cheaper than making dozens of alien costumes), this is fun to watch.  It's the second of four films that director Antonio Margheriti (aka Anthony Dawson) made which were retroactively labeled the Gamma 1 Quadrilogy. I reviewed the first one, WILD WILD PLANET, some years ago, but I'm reviewing this as basically a stand-alone film and not trying to parse out connections of characters or places. The miniature sets, in the Thunderbirds style, are cheap and charming, as are the interior sets and costumes. The laser guns they use are basically flamethrowers. After the first 20 minutes, I wasn't always sure where scenes were taking place but I don't think it mattered all that much. The acting is exactly what you'd expect from a mid-60s dubbed Italian sci-fi movie, alternately serious, humorous and campy. American Tony Russel, who made his name in Italian films, is the commander who frequently fights with his 'feisty' gal (Lisa Gastoni). Franco Nero (best known as Lancelot in CAMELOT) is nice eye candy as the buddy. I like that Connie calls Mike out as a martinet for ordering her about. My husband and I kept referring to Capt. Tice as "big head" because his head looked ready to pop right out of his space helmet. Not suited for viewers of the current generation who take their sci-fi seriously, this is pretty close to delirious fun for the rest of us. In the picture above, Tony Russel is in the center of the crew. [DVD]

MAN ALIVE (1945)

Speed McBride comes home one night, excited to show his wife Connie his latest bowling trophy, but Connie is disappointed because she was expecting a birthday present. But Gordon, an old college friend of theirs, who had a crush on Connie in the past, shows up for a visit with a lovely bouquet of flowers for her. Gordon is recently divorced and Speed, jealous over his attentions to Connie, goes out to a bar to drown his sorrows. He meets a hobo who goes by Willie the Wino and the two get drunk together. When Speed tells him he'd give Willie the shirt off his back, he wants to prove it so the two switch jackets. Speed lets Willie drive him home, but the inebriated Willie winds up driving off a pier into a river. Speed is picked up by Kismet, a riverboat captain and they soon read in a paper that Willie's body was identified as Speed's and the world thinks Speed is dead. Instead of just going home and clearing the matter up, Speed is talked into remaining underground by Kismet so he and Speed go back to Speed's house where Gordon is being very solicitous to the widow. When the will is read, it's discovered that Speed encouraged Connie to get remarried in the event of his death, and worried that she and Gordon will do just that, Speed and Kismet, encouraged by his Aunt Sophie's belief in spiritualism, plan for Speed to pose as his own ghost. Of course, complications ensue.

This is mild B-movie fun, though a big chunk of suspension of disbelief is required to believe that Speed wouldn't just take the easy way out and come clean to Connie right away. Kismet's influence is what pushes him to engage in the scheme, but it's still odd that he lets it go on as long as he does. The actors all do their best. Pat O'Brien as Speed is likable; Ellen Drew (Connie) and Rudy Vallee (Gordon) are fine—though it feels a bit like a second-string cast, which of course as a 70 minute B-movie, it is. The whole thing feels overplotted, with new kinks in the proceedings popping up every ten minutes or so. The funniest moments occur fairly early: on the riverboat, a musical number is performed with cast members dressed as angels singing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," so Speed thinks he's woken up in Heaven. Then he sees Kismet, dressed as a devil (pictured above) and assumes he's in Hell. Minna Gombell has a small, inconsequential role as the seance-holding Aunt Sophie. Directed competently by the prolific journeyman Ray Enright. It's hard to dislike this film if you take it as a trifle, but it could have been much more interesting (and funny) with a stronger script. [TCM]

KING OF THE ROCKET MEN (1949 serial) / LOST PLANET AIRMEN (1951)

Scientists from a research group in Oasis, New Mexico called Science Associates (SA) are dropping like flies in suspicious accidents, but we know they are the work of Dr. Vulcan, whom we only see in shadow. In one case, Prof. Drake is driving a car which is taken over remotely by Vulcan and driven over a cliff. In the latest incident, we see Prof. Millard get a verbal warning through a speaker about his death, followed by an explosion in which Millard is assumed dead. But he survives and is whisked away to a secret lab by Jeff King, one of the SA scientists, who suspects that another SA scientist is actually Dr. Vulcan. Millard continues his work on several inventions, including an atomic-powered jet pack (with a mask and control dials that say Up, Down, Fast and Slow) that will allow a man to fly through the air. King, keeping Millard in hiding, goes back to the SA board, now down to only six, and is appointed to investigate the mysterious deaths. He gets help from Burt Winslow, SA's PR man, and reporter Glenda Thomas. When a gang of Vulcan's thugs led by Dirken steal an experimental missile, Jeff dons the jet pack, flies up in the air after the missile is fired, and manages to shoot it down before it causes harm. The heroic flier comes to be known as Rocket Man, though no one except Millard knows his identity. Jeff comes to suspect Conway, the head of SA, as being a bad guy; he is but he's not Vulcan, and as he's about to tell who is, Dirken throws a knife at him. Attempts are made to steal Millard's Decimator which can melt rocks and earth, as we see in an impressive cave incident which, surprisingly, proves fatal to one of our good guys. Eventually Vulcan and Dirken get their hands on one and threaten to destroy New York City with a massive tidal wave unless they get ransom money. Can Rocket Man save the day?

Many of the more popular classic-era serials (multi-chapter adventures which could total up to over three hours) were eventually edited down to shorter feature-length films, often for showing on television. As an experiment, I decided with this serial from Republic to watch the short distillation (LOST PLANET AIRMEN) first and compare the two. For starters, both titles are quite misleading. There are no Rocket Men (ort Airmen), just a Rocket Man. He's also no one's king (though his last name is King). There is no Lost Planet involved, just Earth. AIRMEN, which is just over an hour, is fast-paced, filled with action, and is relatively coherent. ROCKET MEN, at twelve chapters, is almost three hours and has the burden of providing a cliffhanger at the end of each chapter. AIRMEN cuts out a few chapters, discarding entire subplots, including one that involves the death of an SA scientist who in AIRMEN just disappears, and Glenda suspecting that Jeff is Vulcan. An entire contraption, the Sonitron, is also missing from the shorter movie. Perhaps the biggest change is at the climax. In ROCKET MEN, the tidal wave does, in fact, destroy Manhattan, with good use made of some impressive special effects scenes from the 1933 film DELUGE. The good guys still rejoice, presumably because Vulcan is killed, and the mayor proclaims that the city will rebuild (and, despite the large-scale destruction, we see there are somehow still plenty of skyscrapers still standing outside the mayor's window). In AIRMEN, Vulcan is stopped before he can inflict much damage, and the DELUGE scenes are shown merely as the imaginings of Vulcan as he plots his evil deed.

Though the later-era serials are usually considered inferior to those of the 30s and 40s, this one is still enjoyable enough. The full serial conforms to the typical formula, with cliffhangers and fisticuffs in each chapter, generally bland characters, and a posse of bad guys in suits who are rarely differentiated from each other. Famous stunt man David Sharpe (pictured at right) does stunts here (and very well) but also has a role in a couple of chapters as a bad guy. The identity of Vulcan is, as I expected it would be, a disappointment, like the writers chose him randomly from the SA board, but Dirken, the chief thug, is well played by Don Haggerty. Tristram Coffin, often a movie villain, is Jeff, and is adequate if not compelling—in stunt scenes, it's Sharpe in the masked Rocket Man outfit. Mae Clarke (from FRANKENSTEIN and THE PUBLIC ENEMY) and House Peters Jr. are better as Jeff's sidekicks, and luckily one or both is almost always present. Clarke gets to throw a punch at a thug and Peters gets a nice bound-and-gagged scene near the end. James Craven is very good as Millard, putting a bit of life into the stock role of the helpless scientist—in the full serial, he briefly gets to wear the jet pack! Some fun lines: when the Sonitron is destroyed, Millard takes it like a champ, saying jauntily, "Well, we can build another one!"; when King reveals he's the Rocket Man, Dirken replies, "Yeah, and I'm the King of Siam!" Even though some major storylines are absent from AIRMEN, I think I liked that better, and I'm surprised at how complete it felt. Republic made two more Rocket Man movies and one TV series using the same costume but with different lead characters, including two with Commando Cody, which I'll get around to watching soon. Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that these films inspired the naming of the 70s band Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, best known for their 1971 cover of the novelty song "Hot Rod Lincoln." Unofficially known by serial fans as Rocket Man 1. [Blu-ray]

HOTEL (1967)

A couple at the New Orleans airport take their room key from the hotel they were staying at, the Saint Gregory, and having forgotten to turn it in, throw it into an ashtray where it is picked up by a professional thief (Karl Malden) who heads to the hotel, ready to begin a burglary binge. At the hotel, we see that the #3 elevator is a bit rickety but hasn't been reported yet (let’s call this Chekhov's elevator). The hotel owner (Melvyn Douglas), who laments the passing of the old days (he is, among other things, against desegregating the hotel), has to sell the hotel. His choices: 1) sell to hotel magnate Kevin McCarthy who wants to completely renovate it into a modern mechanized place full of conveyor belts, which would most likely displace most of the current workers; 2) get funding from a union, which would, of course, mean unionizing the current workers; 3) sell to a real estate company that wants to tear down the hotel and put up an office building. Douglas relies on his manager (Rod Taylor) to help him make a decision even while Taylor has his hands full with the day-to-day concerns of the guests. McCarthy and his retinue are staying in a high-class suite; he makes his assistants pray with him on their knees to make their mission a success, even as he has meetings in an open bathrobe and sleeps with his younger French mistress (Catherine Spaak). In another suite are a British duke (Michael Rennie) and duchess (Merle Oberon); we first see them sneaking up to their room by the service stairs because they're ducking a hit-and-run investigation involving the death of a child. Rennie is up for an important diplomatic post and Oberon bribes the house detective (Richard Conte) into getting rid of their car. McCarthy sends Spaak to be squired about the French Quarter for a day by Taylor so she can play spy and report back with information McCarthy can use in negotiations. She gets some info, but Taylor takes her to his apartment where they listen to jazz and have sex. In another plotline, a Black couple show up with reservations, but Douglas turns them away; it turns out they are part of McCarthy's plan to squelch Douglas' deal with the union by exposing the incident to the press. And let's not forget that elevator which hasn’t been fixed yet.

Many critics see this as an update of the old warhorse GRAND HOTEL which follows various characters and their interlocking relationships over the period of a couple of days. Here, however, there is a central character, Taylor, who is far more charismatic and interesting than any of the guests. The two main plots (McCarthy's machinations and Oberon's attempt to save her husband from the law) are fairly predictable, and Spaak is the only one to get a fleshed-out backstory. In Malden's sideplot, he is stuck with grinning idiotically as he creeps about in rooms and runs from the cops. His predictable story runs out of steam quickly. That leaves Taylor carrying the movie, and he is almost successful. Taylor is handsome, charming, and dynamic, though his character is awfully flat considering we're supposed to identify with him. Taylor, far and away, does the best acting here, with Oberon and Rennie doing OK. Spaak feels like she's sleepwalking through her part, and McCarthy doesn't have the gravitas to make his character seem serious or threatening. There are some nice side turns by Clinton Sundburg, Alfred Ryder and Harry Hickox (the anvil salesman from The Music Man), and jazz singer Carmen McRae is good in a small role as, yes, the singer in the hotel's bar—she and Taylor show hints of an interesting relationship that isn't examined. Oddly, I feel like this movie is a bit too short. A couple of side stories are glimpsed (in addition to McRae, there's a bell captain who meddles in things and a couple of rich lads who invite whores up to their room for a party) that might have been interesting. There are a handful of location shots in New Orleans but they don't amount to much. Still, the hotel sets are effective. The ending is not especially satisfying, with the Rennie/Oberon story left with loose ends, but the last scene is nice. Directed by Richard Quine, a character actor in the 40s who became a rather undistinguished director in the 50s (except for Bell, Book and Candle). Based on a bestseller by Arthur Hailey (Airport). The whole thing is lazily involving if not engrossing, but I’d watch it again for the sexy Rod Taylor (pictured). [TCM]

LOVERS AND LOLLIPOPS (1956)

Ann is a young widow who lives in Manhattan and works as a model. She has a 7-year old daughter named Peggy who is entering a mildly bratty phase. One night, Ann goes out with Larry, an old friend who has just returned from a few years working as an engineer in South America. Larry buys Peggy a toy boat which she insists on taking with her as they head out for a day on the town. At the Museum of Modern Art, Peggy proves to be a bit of a handful, eventually floating her boat in a pool in the sculpture garden and needing help getting it out. Generally, it seems like Peggy has taken to Larry's presence and he and Ann start to talk about a future together, with Larry willing to talk to his bosses about transferring to Manhattan. The two start spending more time together and Peggy, possibly threatened by the growing relationship, starts acting out around Larry. She hides from him in a beach parking lot, then disobeys orders not to take all the lollipops out of a beach bag (she tries to stuff them all in her mouth, then plants them in the sand). On a trip to Macy's toy department with Larry to pick out a new toy, Peggy dawdles on purpose which irritates Larry. When they get home, Peggy claims that Larry slapped her (he didn't) which causes Ann to slap her. It seems like Peggy might be successful in spoiling Ann and Larry’s relationship, but after a break of a couple of days, Larry tries one last tactic: a new puppy.

This is a very low-budget film, shot on location on the streets of New York with a small cast and post-dubbed dialogue. The directors, Morris Engel and Ruth Orkin, had a fluke hit a couple years earlier with a similar child-focused slice of life story called Little Fugitive. This didn't have the same success and it's a bit rough around the edges, but it has mild charms. The acting is deceptively good all around, with the three leads seeming very natural, all probably fighting the temptation to exaggerate their feelings and actions as in a typical Hollywood film. Peggy's acting-up never leads to anything dangerous; when she hides in the parking lot, I was sure there would be drama, but she doesn't run out in the path of a car, and Larry refuses to overreact to the situation. Of course, this means the movie lacks some energy and tension—there was no doubt in my mind that lonely Ann and nice-guy Larry would wind up together. Cathy Dunn (Peggy) never made another movie but she certainly shows low-key promise here, being cranky and irritating without overdoing it. Lori March (Ann) went on to soap operas. Gerald S. O’Laughlin (Larry), a favorite tough-guy character actor of mine, does a nice job as the suitor, sensitive to Ann's situation and not willing to give up on winning over the mercurial daughter. One nice situation has Peggy see a hippopotamus named Larry at the zoo; later she draws the hippo and his name in chalk on the sidewalk, but when Larry shows up, she tries to erase the name, afraid that he'll think she was insulting him by comparing him to a hippo. I'm glad I saw this low-key film but it won't be everyone’s cup of tea. [YouTube]

JUST IMAGINE (1930)

In the year 1980, people have numbers instead of names, they use one-person planes instead of cars (a bit like the Jetsons do), they need governmental approval to marry, and they get children from vending machines on the street. John Garrick is in love with Maureen O’Sullivan and meets her in mid-air as their two planes hover to discuss their situation. Another man (Kenneth Thomson) has applied to marry her, and as Garrick has been judged the less impressive of the two, Thomson has been given priority. She loves Garrick, but he has only a couple of months to do something in his field (he's a pilot) that will make him stand out above Thomson. To help him forget his troubles, Garrick's roommate (Frank Albertson) takes him to see a scientist resurrect a man who died in 1930—he was struck by lightning while playing golf. The man (El Brendel), rather like Woody Allen in Sleeper, is reanimated and is confused and astonished by the future world, and Garrick and Albertson take him in. Meanwhile, another scientist tells Garrick about a spaceship he has built and suggests that if Garrick could fly it to Mars, that might be enough to get him married to O'Sullivan. The roommates take off, with Brendel as a stowaway. On Mars, the three get involved with King Loko and Queen Loo Loo, discover two different tribes of beings, witness an elaborate dance scene performed around a huge idol, and finally make it back home where Garrick is praised for his trip and gets to marry O’Sullivan. 

You would think an early talkie sci-fi musical would be fun, if only as a period piece, but this ludicrous mess is hard to take. The only reason I sat through it was the fabulous set design. Apparently a big chunk of the films' budget went to its look: the modern apartment, the New York cityscape (looking much like the city in Fritz Lang's Metropolis), the scientific labs, the Martian landscape. The plot seems to have been thrown together in a few days to justify the visuals. In fact, the weak plot may be a consequence of the film being a musical, with the narrative seen as relatively unimportant compared to the songs and production numbers. The Mars sequence, which has a convoluted and forgettable plot, features a spectacular number, the abovementioned dance with the giant idol which was reused in the original Flash Gordon serial. It also contains a running joke that would not have been possible under the Production Code a few years later: the king of Mars is apparently gay and has a thing for El Brendel. The funniest line in the movie is when Brendel realizes that he's being flirted with and says, in reference to the queen of Mars, "She’s not the queen, he is!" In the end, Loko returns to Earth where they just might wind up as together as Garrick and O’Sullivan. Another standout line: When Garrick complains to a spinsterish census taker about the unfairness of the law, she replies, "The Marriage Act, like the Volstead Act—a noble experiment." (Prohibition, the Volstead Act, was still the law of the land in 1930.) The songs are unmemorable, El Brendel's shtick is quite dated (though I did laugh at a few of his bits), Garrick is flat, and O’Sullivan is given little to do, which leaves Albertson and Marjorie White, as his girlfriend, as the bright spots in the film. They are both energetic and amusing, which the leads are not. It doesn't help that the only available print, one shown on the Fox Movie Channel some years ago, is in poor shape. For the visuals alone, this might be worth restoring, but I won't hold my breath. Many critics have done political and cultural readings of the film, particularly as concerns the low status of women reflected in the future, but I can't work up the energy to participate. For me, this movie is all about the sets. In the photo above, Albertson and Brendel at to the left and Garrick is to the right. [YouTube]

REVOLT OF THE BARBARIANS (1964)

In 300 A.D., northern areas of Rome are besieged by, well, revolting barbarians. Darius and his men of the 10th legion are on their way home to Rome after months of battle when they are stopped by Claudius, an emissary of the emperor, and given a new task: head to Gaul and stop the systematic robbery of gold, intended for the soldiers' payroll, by the raiding barbarians. The legion heads to the town of Trivero where Darius and his buddy Marcus disguise themselves as merchants. They get to know Demetrius, head of the city; Livia, who is anti-Rome because Romans were responsible for the death of her father; her aunt Augusta, a woman of indeterminate loyalty; Brutus, the head of the Praetorian Guard. There is more going on here than we see on the surface: it appears that the gold pieces (which are marked with a distinctive 'X') are being stolen by barbarians who are being controlled by Demetrius, and Darius sees the coins turning up in Trivero. Claudius orders Darius and his men to stage a fake gold delivery as bait for catching the bandits. It turns out there is a conspiracy apparently headed by Brutus, but Darius suspects that he has higher-ups controlling him, as a series of double-crosses confirms.

This is not uninteresting, but if you're new to the peplum genre, this may not be the one to start with. The presence of oiled-up musclemen and people in togas are two of the primary criteria for the genre; here, you will find togas but no muscles, or even bare male chests, muscular or otherwise. Roland Carey, as Darius (pictured), is an OK hero that we can root for, and he's handy with a sword, but he is strictly of average build, as is Marcus (Gabriele Antonini). The women are attractive but not as buxom as one might expect. Once you get past the physical glitches, the rest is entertaining enough. The plot is a tiny bit more complicated than usual, and the sword fights are pulled off well, if a bit padded out at times. The soundtrack, as with most Italian movies of the era, is completely dubbed, not only in English speech but with background noises done by foley artists as well, but here the foley department went a bit overboard, with, for example, the sound of two men running sounding like horses clomping. When horses actually are clomping, the sound is overwhelming. There is a musical theme used in some of the fight scenes that is reminiscent of the Rumble music from West Side Story. Ultimately, the title has little meaning, as any barbarian revolt is secondary to the actual intrigue. [YouTube]

DOCKS OF NEW ORLEANS (1948)

In the only scene in this movie set at the title location, two suspicious looking men, Grock and Pereaux, try to stop a shipment of chemicals from going to South America, but the ship is too well guarded. Meanwhile, LaFontanne, the head of the chemical company, calls on Charlie Chan, fearing a "secret enemy." The chemical, a variation of perchloric acid which can be used as a weapon, was produced in a partnership with Castanaro and Von Scherbe, On the morning that Chan is to meet with LaFontanne, Castanaro and Von Scherbe show up at the office and demand that LaFontanne sign an agreement that ensures that, if one of the partners dies, the others will get his share of the profits. He is reluctant but does eventually sign. Then, LaFontanne has a new visitor: Oscar Swenstrom, the inventor of the chemical, who feels cheated by the partners because he won't get a share of the profits. LaFontanne's secretary (and niece) Rene calls the cops, but by the time they get there, LaFontanne, who went into his office to listen to a radio concert, is found dead, possibly of a heart attack. When Chan arrives, he figures out that poison gas was actually the culprit, but how it happened and who did it are unclear. There end up being four parties of interest: 1) the remaining partners; 2) Grock and Pereaux (and a woman who calls herself the Countess) who are after the formula for the chemical; 3) Swenstrom (and his opera singing wife whom we never meet but who is mentioned more than once); 4) the niece Rene who had a chunk of the partnership, and the office manager Thompson who is Rene’s tagalong buddy. Chan is on the case with help from the cops—and hindrance from his son Tommy and chauffeur Birmingham Brown.

The generally accepted Charlie Chan film canon consists of over forty films made between 1931 and 1949. Three different actors played Chan. The first and best known is Warner Oland; after his death, Sidney Toler took over, followed by Roland Winters. Winters, who seemed the least yellowface Chan, is often regarded as the least of the three (partly because his movies, made by Monogram, had the lowest budgets, sometimes being shot is just a week or so), but in an attempt to look at him with fresh eyes, I found that he's not bad. He doesn't have the spark that Oland had, but he also is less lethargic than Toler was—Toler did his last few Chan films while suffering with cancer, but even before that, Toler was not terribly energetic. In this, the second of six Chan films that Winters starred in, he tries to follow the Oland template of quiet dignity with occasional subtle snark directed at those who underestimate Chan's talents. Black comic actor Manan Moreland played Birmingham in several Chan movies, and despite usually being depicted as scared and bumbling, he is usually a highlight of the films, as he is here. His interplay with Victor Sen Yung (as Tommy, also a bungler) is fun—they even get to do a short song, "The Chop Suey Boogie," on violin and piano. He also does a funny double-talk bit with Haywood Jones (fine in the only movie he ever made). The rest of the cast is adequate, mostly a bunch of middle-aged white guys in suits and hats who can be difficult to distinguish from each other. John Gallaudet is good as the police captain, as are Virginia Dale (Rene) and Rory Mallinson (Thompson). If you're familiar with the concept of Chekhov's gun, the opera singing wife who sings on the radio is the Chekhov's gun here. There's not a lot of action but the clever climax plays out nicely. The movie is basically an uncredited remake of MR. WONG DETECTIVE, an earlier Monogram movie. Best lines: one impatient character, wanting Chan to cut to the chase, says, "Forget the parables, Chan!" and later, "Never mind the platitudes, Chan, talk!" Of course, Chan wouldn't be Chan without those platitudes and parables. More Roland Winters coming up soon. Pictured are Moreland, Winters and Sen Yung. [DVD]