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Reviews
Pollyanna (1960)
Glad tidings
This Disney concoction from 1960 is based on the classic children's story by Eleanor Porter. 'Pollyanna' was first published in 1913 and like Lucy Maud Montgomery's Canadian version 'Anne of Green Gables,' it spawned sequels, a silent film and sound film remakes. In this case, the word Pollyanna became part of the common vernacular, a synonym for someone who is idealistic or overly cheerful. You know the kind, the person who always says the glass is half full not half empty!
A key component of Porter's tale is that the heroine would play what was called a glad game. This was done in attempts to find something to be grateful or happy about, despite less than perfect circumstances. While a bit contrived in spots, the use of the glad game in the book is an interesting exercise. Perhaps modern children would benefit from playing their own glad game today, in a world that is often brimming with hopelessness and sudden catastrophes.
Mary Pickford had her defining role in the 1920 silent adaptation of Porter's story. Pickford's take on it clocks in at just under an hour. I have only seen excerpts of Pickford's Pollyanna, but I would conjecture to say hers is the abridged version and leaves out many key episodes.
By comparison, the Disney version with Hayley Mills that was produced four decades later, seems overdone. At 134 minutes I find it simply too long and dragged out. It never loses an ounce of charm, but I did find my mind drifting on more than one occasion. I would think that today's young generation with even shorter attention spans, would have trouble remaining focused for over two hours. This is a story that should be told in 90 to 100 minutes.
The Disney production features a fine cast. Everyone knows that Miss Mills received a special Oscar for her performance, which was well-deserved and recently re-presented to her (I am sure she was glad). But the rest of performers deserve kudos, too. Pollyanna's stern aunt is played to perfection by Jane Wyman, demonstrating a brittle matriarch years before she gave us Angela Channing on Falcon Crest.
We also have the effervescent Nancy Olson in a supporting role, before she would appear in other Disney pictures during the 1960s. Agnes Moorehead turns up as a witch-type character (pre-Endora), while Adolphe Menjou is seen in what would be his last feature film role. The most interesting casting, in my opinion, is Richard Egan known more for westerns, crime flicks and action adventure yarns. It's nice to see him in more family friendly fare.
Cafe Hostess (1940)
Club hostess
Ann Dvorak stars as the title character in this crime drama from Columbia. In some ways the story seems like a leftover from the precode days of Hollywood. It's pretty obvious that Dvorak and pal Wynne Gibson are glorified prostitutes at a seedy dive along a rundown waterfront area. The men who come into the joint pay to have drinks with the gals and end up having their pockets picked clean before they leave.
Dvorak may be playing a somewhat unwholesome woman, but underneath the tough exterior beats a heart. And when a handsome sailor (Preston Foster) walks in one night, they hit it off and she falls hard. She then decides with his encouragement that she is better than her surroundings and deserves a proper life elsewhere.
Adding to the drama is the fact that Gibson's character thought she deserved a better life too, but the club's owner (Douglas Fowley) ruined her chances and she was forced to come back. If Fowley has his way, he will also wreck Dvorak's chances of happiness with Foster. Part of this tale involves women being property of men, but also women trying to break free.
Dvorak's performance should be studied by fledgling actresses. She gives a masterclass in portraying anguish but also hope. She takes very routine situations with cliched dialogue and elevates the material, because she believes in the pathos of the character. She knows she's playing a bad girl struggling to go legit, and that the circumstances in which she lives are tragic. There is great poignancy in her acting, especially some nice moments in a park where her character, against the odds, becomes engaged to Foster.
The most stunning work on screen, though, is rendered by Gibson. She knows that Fowley is about to stop Dvorak from going off and enjoying a happily ever after. So, during a club brawl that brings the riot squad to the premises, Gibson as a protectress, gets Foster to take Dvorak off before it's too late, while Gibson confronts Fowley. Not just with words, but with a knife. It's a gruesome end for him.
When the police haul Gibson off to jail in the last scene, it's shades of Norma Desmond to be sure. But she was willing to go crazy inside the club, if it meant she could save Dvorak and give Dvorak's character the chance she never had. This is a great B-flick that gets a top score from me.
Jezebel (1938)
Is she immoral, wicked and shameless? Or something more?
The film is based on a play which was produced on Broadway from late 1933 to early 1934. On stage the role of Julie Kendrick, a.k.a. The jezebel, was portrayed by Miriam Hopkins. Joseph Cotten had a supporting part as one of the young men. The play wasn't really a hit, closing after 34 performances. But Warner Brothers saw value in the property as a vehicle for its resident queen, Bette Davis. Studio execs realized that by adapting the play, they could get their own saga about a southern belle on a plantation in theaters before David Selznick's much-anticipated opus GONE WITH THE WIND.
Just like Scarlett O'Hara, Julie Kendrick (Davis) is a spoiled rich girl living in the south. Here the setting is New Orleans, not Atlanta. And like Scarlett, Julie has a lot of growing up to do and adversity to overcome. Some of her greatest struggles involve her complicated love relationship with a guy named Preston Dillard, played by Henry Fonda. This was the second of two Davis-Fonda pairings at WB. Their previous effort was a melodrama called THAT CERTAIN WOMAN, made a year earlier.
Julie's tumultuous dealings with Pres occur mainly in the early 1850s. A yellow fever epidemic is depicted. There were multiple outbreaks of the disease in New Orleans between 1817 and 1905. Yellow fever was typically spread by mosquitoes. Historians tell us that over 40,000 people lost their lives because of the epidemic. Many of the ones who survived did so by leaving New Orleans at the height of the outbreak. Part of what we see in the movie has Julie maturing to help treat patients. Incidentally, most treatments at the time consisted of bloodletting or the administering of carbolic acid, and quinine, though many of these treatments were not very effective.
But before Julie comes of age during the outbreak, there are plenty of scenes at the beginning of the movie that depict her immaturity and brattiness. The best scene is one at the ball, where Julie shows up in a red dress and is forced to dance and make a spectacle of herself. There are lines in the film about questioning the value of tradition, and this scene illustrates that point.
A lot has been written about JEZEBEL in comparison to GONE WITH THE WIND. And if we are, indeed, comparing the two, then what probably hurts JEZEBEL is its black-and-white photography. Imagine the impact that would have been made if the dress that Julie wears to the ball had been shown in Technicolor. After all, it is a huge deal that she is wearing red of all colors. The scene signifies the character's willingness to defy the conventions of proper society. And just like Tara in GONE WITH THE WIND, it would have helped the story if we'd glimpsed the Halcyon plantation of JEZBEL in all its glory in Technicolor.
In many ways, though Bette Davis is the star of the picture, the film is an ensemble drama and all of the roles are well-written. Fay Bainter, cast as a supporting player, would net an Oscar along with Miss Davis. As for his part, Henry Fonda takes his role and infuses some charming idiosyncrasies. He is not just reacting to his leading lady, but portraying something substantial.
During the ball, when they come into the dance, the camera shows Fonda's facial expressions as much as Davis's. The red dress seems to symbolize the fact that both of them (not just her) are no longer chaste, and that they are the most liberal couple in the community. However, he quickly renounces this as well as the idea of a future with her when he escorts her home. Tomorrow will not be another day after all, dumpling. She is going to have to fight to get him back.
Blackboard Jungle (1955)
Learning environment
In education there is a phrase that gets bandied about by teachers and administrators. It's the phrase 'learning environment.' As we see in this mid-50s social message drama from MGM the phrase doesn't necessarily apply to the knowledge gained inside a school. For delinquent kids seem to learn just as much about life outside these walls, and so does a neophyte English instructor (Glenn Ford).
The script is based on Evan Hunter's bestselling book. It is clear that Hunter, who only lasted a short time working at a secondary school, knew very little about educating youth. There are so many inaccuracies and discrepancies in the story one has to wonder if it's because MGM felt the need to ramp up the melodrama and add in contrived situations. Or if it is because Hunter and writer-director Richard Brooks didn't spend a considerable amount of time in a real classroom, and were not properly schooled on how it actually is working with adolescents.
The first thing that strikes a false note is how Ford's character gets hired in the first place. He has a brief chat with the principal (John Hoyt) who decides that since Ford can be heard at the back of a room, he will suffice. There are no reference checks, no filling in tax forms or other paperwork with a district human resources department, just welcome aboard and go to the staff lounge to meet the other faculty. I am sure that in 1955, there were trainings and orientations.
Ford's character isn't the only one who's just been hired. There is a well-meaning math teacher (Richard Kiley) who is not said to have a wife or girlfriend and is possibly gay. Kiley's character seems to enjoy getting drunk with Ford after classes end. Also, we have a sexy female instructor (Margaret Hayes) whom I don't recall what it is she teaches exactly. But what she teaches doesn't matter, what matters is the lesson a boy at the school tries to teach her inside the library one afternoon.
Not to spend too much time on Hayes' subplot, but I would think if there was an attempted rate on campus, parents and community advocates would be notified and seen getting involved. Not everyone in this environment would turn a blind eye. Also, I don't think Hayes' character would be right back to work the next day; she'd need a few days to regroup; probably meet a counselor and consult with a union rep. (Teachers unions go all the way back to 1957). She'd most likely take a leave of absence to decide if she's willing to stay with the district, and maybe request to be transferred to another school.
Of course none of that can happen because the scenarists want to keep her around to generate additional melodrama re: an implied tawdry affair between her character and Ford's, which gets back to Ford's wife (Anne Francis). As for Francis, her character is one-dimensional and disappears for large chunks of the narrative. She is supposed to be pregnant, but she never has morning sickness. There aren't any other physical signs she is expecting. When she has the baby, off-camera, we never even see her with the baby on screen. Her main function is just to be the stereotypical housewife supporting her breadwinner husband.
Other implausibilities derail the script, despite the message the filmmakers are trying to convey. Even in the mid-1950s, new instructors would be given advice and suggestions. For example, a seasoned veteran teacher would probably function as a sort of mentor, to help go over lesson plans and organize materials.
The principal himself would be popping in and out of the classrooms to evaluate instruction and check on the teachers' rapport with the kids. A big deal is made about Sidney Poitier's character being a leader. There is no way the principal wouldn't be doing period checks to see what he and the other kids are up to, if they are learning the curriculum. The fact that Ford and Kiley are left on their own with the kids all the time is highly unrealistic. Most importantly, this is an academic institution with a group of underperforming students. Would a first-year teacher be on his own the whole time trying to figure out how to teach them? No.
Twenty years later ABC-TV's sitcom Welcome Back Kotter hit the airwaves with Gabe Kaplan playing an English instructor at an inter-city school. Kaplan's Kotter was an obvious nod (or ripoff, depending on your point of view) to Ford's character in BLACKBOARD JUNGLE. In the MGM film, the kids are out-and-out delinquents; Vic Morrow plays a punk who is truly dangerous and probably borderline psychotic.
The kids in ABC's sitcom, known affectionately as Sweathogs, initially had delinquent type characteristics. But since it was a sitcom and since the network wasn't about to deal with censorship issues and complaints from PTA groups, the kids' antics became increasingly silly and comedic. They did not really pose any serious threat to Kotter or the other staff. They were just kids in a remedial learning environment.
The Invisible Man (1933)
Until he unravels
THE INVISIBLE MAN is probably among the top three Claude Rains films. The other two being CASABLANCA and NOTORIOUS. It was Rains' Hollywood debut, however it was not his first motion picture which has often been erroneously reported. He had been in a silent British film in 1920, eighth-billed. During the thirteen year gap, he concentrated primarily on stage work in Britain before emigrating to the U. S.
He is superb in Universal's THE INVISIBLE MAN. It is a role where he must rely almost entirely on his voice and the ability to bring a character to life without using his body. Fortunately Rains has the type of voice that lends itself to the imagination and it's rather easy to envision Dr. Jack Griffin in these scenes, even if he is invisible.
The screenplay by R. C. Sherriff is of course based upon H. G. Wells' novel, first published in 1897. Interestingly, it took over 35 years for anyone to "picturize" Wells' classic but luckily these duties were eventually taken on by director James Whale. Whale had previously directed a film based on one of Sherriff's most successful plays, JOURNEY'S END. And after the resounding success of THE INVISIBLE MAN, they'd collaborate on two additional motion pictures-- ONE MORE RIVER in 1934; and THE ROAD BACK in 1937; both at Universal where Whale was basically an 'house' director.
Speaking of houses, Whale had previously helmed the memorable horror-comedy THE OLD DARK HOUSE in 1932 which featured Gloria Stuart. She is also in THE INVISIBLE MAN as the love interest. Critic Pauline Kael uses words like bosomy and fleshy to describe Stuart, which is somewhat ironic since our title character is not visible and is fleshless.
In order to convey Griffin's fleshless qualities but still give him some semblance of a human form, we have him wrapped in clothing and bandages. His unique physicality, along with Rains' voice, convinces us he's real even if the overall situation is unreal. Griffin's goal, per Wells, is to be able to go anywhere undetected and to sell his secret formula to a government leader who might use invisible armies to conquer the world. It's a notable concept, and Wells identifies the secret formula as monocane. I should point out that there is a drug called monocaine which is an anesthetic.
The fictitious drug in Wells' story not only causes invisibility but also aggression and madness. Rains is at his most masterful in "showing" us what a megalomaniac Griffin becomes as he unravels (pun intended).
Universal produced a sequel, THE INVISIBLE MAN RETURNS, in 1940. That time Vincent Price took over the lead role. Directorial chores were handed to someone else, since Whale's career was winding down. But John P. Fulton, who devised most of the witty effects of the original, returned to provide more special effects. Although the sequel lacked the freshness of the original, there was still enough interest among moviegoers for Universal to produce several more Invisible follow-ups, including one with Abbott & Costello. In 2020, the studio remade the original.
Annie (1982)
Annie, all those adventures and Daddy
Harold Gray, who originated the Little Orphan Annie comic strip in mid-1924, was a rightwing conservative who often used his famous creation to push his political views. He was not a fan of FDR or New Deal legislation; and controversially, he was opposed to child labor laws, feeling that juveniles became delinquents because they weren't taught the value of hard work.
His daily comic strip featured examples of the rich who worked hard (Daddy Warbucks) as well as the many industrious lower-class laborers that Annie met on her various adventures. The adventures became more violent and more international in scope as the Depression years led into the second world war, followed by post-war threats of communism.
One reason the strip was so successful with readers was its Dickensian quality. At its heart, Little Orphan Annie was about the struggles faced by a likable young heroine and her pals, told in a long-ranging serialized format. Gray helmed the strip from the mid-1920s until his death in the late 1960s. Amazingly, it continued with other writers and illustrators until 2010. During the 2010s Annie, Daddy and company would continue to appear in story arcs of the still-running Dick Tracy.
As I researched the origins of Little Orphan Annie, I learned some things that the creators of the late 1970s stage musical (the basis for the 1982 musical film) either did not know or just altogether ignored. Broadway has pretty much been run by liberals for a century, and director John Huston was probably the most left-leaning established Hollywood director you could find in the early 80s.
The 1982 film version does not espouse Gray's conservative rhetoric. His philosophies are largely absent, and this harmless and inoffensive kid-friendly offering with an abundance of song and dance has Annie befriending Franklin & Eleanor. I'm sure Gray turned over in his grave.
In the original comic strip, Daddy is married and his wife is quite a meanie. She is always sending Annie back to "The Home." Sandy the dog does not turn up till later when Annie rescues him from a gang of abusive boys. Also, the kids do not always have happy endings -- especially if Daddy is away. Remember this was Dickensian melodrama full of hardship, struggles and suffering.
Neither Harold Gray nor his successors had Annie ever adopted by Daddy. (This happens in the 1982 musical film.) Instead, Daddy Warbucks remained her ward all those years. She was not officially adopted until a Dick Tracy arc in the 2010s. By then, she'd had hundreds of wild adventures. At long last, she and Daddy made it legal and some happiness and stability was to be given to this well-known waif.
Flying Tigers (1942)
A symbol of invincible strength
The word invincible means too powerful to be defeated or overcome. Such is the spirit of the American Volunteer Group (AVG) in this Republic war film. They were a group of determined U. S. pilots who fought the Japanese in China during the second world war. Of course, they're more commonly known as the Flying Tigers, which gives the movie its title.
Just as invincible during this period: the solidarity among Hollywood studios who often worked together for the sake of the war effort. The studios frequently loaned talent to each other to make sure these films had quality craftsmanship and would serve a greater purpose, which was unabashed flag-waving propaganda after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in December 1941.
For this particular production, Republic borrowed musician Victor Young from Paramount who wrote the patriotic score; and from MGM borrowed director David Miller and actor John Carroll. Carroll would end up splitting his contract between the two companies, making more films for Republic than he did at Metro. Carroll plays the second lead, a doomed flyer in a triangle with costars Anna Lee and John Wayne, before he goes on a spectacular suicide mission against the Japanese.
This was the Duke's first war flick. He was an admirer of actress Laraine Day whom they tried to get from MGM to play the role that eventually went to Anna Lee. Day had just starred in A YANK ON THE BURMA ROAD, released at the start of 1942. She would later costar with Wayne in TYCOON (1947) and THE HIGH AND THE MIGHTY (1954).
The AVG, or Flying Tigers, had been formed before the attack on Pearl Harbor, but they did not begin their missions until after the United States entered the war. There is a stirring sequence where the entirely of FDR's speech 'This is a day that will live in infamy...' is heard on radio, signaling the official entry of the U. S. in the war.
As I watched this section of the story, with the various reaction shots of the cast, I had to remind myself that this was filmed only a short time after these people had actually heard Roosevelt make his declaration live on the radio. They were reliving their own recent history. Such powerful cinema! It feels as relevant today as it undoubtedly was then. There is only one word that can describe the heroic men and women from that era: invincible.
Plein soleil (1960)
Murder and someone else's identity
There's something unique about PURPLE NOON, which gives it a distinct advantage over the 1999 remake. And that's Alain Delon who brings a special quality to the role of Tom Ripley. In an early scene we are shown that Tom emulates his French friend Philippe with whom he is carousing around Italy.
Philippe comes in and discovers Tom wearing his clothes and admiring himself in front of a mirror. At one point Tom becomes so entranced with his image as "Philippe," he kisses himself in the mirror. It's more than mere narcissism, it's a charming sort of adoration, where he is not in love with himself but with the image of what he can become. This leads him to commit murder and assume Philippe's identity.
In Patricia Highsmith's novel, first published in 1955, Tom gets away with his crimes. But in PURPLE NOON, it is suggested that he has been caught-- or is about to get caught at the end of the story. It's a simple plot, really. One man covets another man's life, has somewhat been used and abused, then takes over. Of course, there are greater complexities hinted at in the material.
After Tom has eliminated Philippe in the physical sense, he becomes "Philippe," which means psychologically the murder victim lives on. People get fooled by Tom/"Philippe"-- including Marge, who is Philippe's girlfriend in the beginning, then Tom's girlfriend after the murder.
Does she even know which man most satisfies her? Of course, she will never receive full attention, because he is playing a game with the police, and anyone else that might figure things out. Soon a guy named Freddy arrives from America and starts to put it all together. Tom murders Freddy, too. And in a clever twist, he pins Freddy's killing on the dead Philippe.
PURPLE NOON has glossy production values, but it's also a hard-hitting psychological crime drama. The main character is a rich grifter; a man who switches from one locale to the next, and from one identity to the next. When the police summon him at the end, it would seem he's about to lead yet another life-- in prison.
Licence to Kill (1989)
Licence to thrill
Timothy Dalton is back for his second and final adventure as James Bond. He seems more comfortable in the role, though he is still playing the character in a slightly detached manner. Dalton seems to understand the connection Bond has with an American friend named Felix (David Hedison) and Felix's young bride (Priscilla Barnes). This is apparent when Felix's bride is murdered shortly after she and Felix are wed. It becomes personal for Bond, since he also lost his wife not long after he was married.
The scene where Bond discovers Felix's dead wife is a bit graphic. And so is the moment where the killers, rich creeps in the south Florida drug trade, take Felix to a warehouse and toss him into some water with a ferocious shark. Felix doesn't die, though I didn't quite understand why they spared him and not his wife. Later Felix is returned to his home where Bond finds him and takes him to the hospital. While Felix recuperates after the near fatal shark bite, it's up to Bond to track down the men responsible.
While much of the film's early action takes place in Florida, the next segment occurs in a fictional Central American country (based on Manuel Noriega's Panama). The cold war is over, so now Bond is focused on a large scale drug war. In many ways this film plays like an extended episode of Miami Vice, the TV crime drama that was very popular in the '80s and often focused on the drug trade.
A word or two about the villains. Robert Davi plays the pockmarked Latin American drug lord Sanchez; and he is in league with two unsavory henchmen. One of them is Milton Krest (Anthony Zerbe), who operates a marine research center that helps smuggle cocaine into the country. And the other bad guy is Dario, a young assistant played by Benicio del Toro before he became a bonafide movie star. There is a great deal of homoerotic tension between Sanchez and Dario that Davi seems to deliberately add to the scenes by brushing his hand across del Torro's face when they're together on camera, as well as all those longing (and apparently meaningful) stares.
There's a key scene where Sanchez says loyalty is more important than money; and when Bond tries to infiltrate the Sanchez organization later on, Bond repeats the loyalty oath, which impresses Sanchez. Sanchez knows more money can always be made, but he wants real loyalty and companionship from his male partners in crime.
Another pseudo-villain in the story is televangelist Joe Butcher played by Wayne Newton. Newton seems like an unusual choice, but apparently he enjoyed the Bond films so much he asked the producers if he could do a cameo. In a way it's an extended cameo, since there are several scenes with Newton asking for donations to his "church," which is really a cover for more dope smuggling. And there's a sequence which occurs at Butcher's meditation institute (a euphemism if ever there was one) that prominently features Newton, whom I found to be quite charming in a non-sequitur sort of way.
Much of the picture's second act concerns Bond trying to set Krest against Sanchez. There's a particularly gruesome death scene where Sanchez decides Krest has been "unfaithful" and has to be eliminated. Krest's blood gets all over a pile of money-- symbolism for blood money (literally)-- and Sanchez's answer when asked about how to clean the cash is to launder it. While working to get Krest out of the way, Bond receives help from his old pal Q (Desmond Llewelyn) who poses as a chauffeur and supplies necessary gadgets to foil the villains. Also, Bond is aided by two women with whom he naturally falls in love.
As in the previous Dalton picture, Bond's bed hopping has been significantly curtailed. The two girlfriends he has in this story are depicted as strong romantic possibilities in a rather impossible triangle. One of them is a chick that has been having a relationship with Sanchez; she's portrayed by Talisa Soto; and the other is the main Bond girl, Carey Lowell as CIA informant Pam Bouvier. There's an interesting line where Pam joins up with Bond in Latin America, and she has to pose as 007's assistant. She asks why he can't pose as her assistant, and he says women are not that strong or powerful south of the U. S. border. Not sure whether that's true, or if any feminists in 1989 bought it.
Overall this is a fast-moving, suspense-filled entry. It might seem formulaic in spots, but there are pleasant moments of creativity. The tanker chase sequence at the end is truly spectacular and fun to watch. Incidentally, the producers included the Surgeon General's warning in the closing credits, almost apologizing for the use of tobacco in the story. However, they did not apologize for cutting Felix's honeymoon short. And they did not apologize for putting all those trucks on the road. If they had, their licence to thrill might have been revoked.
Heaven Can Wait (1943)
Clever satire about the afterlife
Life is a Lubitsch and then you die. And when you die, like Don Ameche's character does in HEAVEN CAN WAIT (1943), you have a conversation with the devil to take stock of what you did during the years you spent on earth. Of course, the goal is to get to heaven, right? So Ameche has to defend his life on some level, in order to be reunited with his wife Martha, played by Gene Tierney, who had predeceased him.
This is a fun, clever satire about the afterlife, which sparkles under the filmmaker's direction and there are many engaging performances by the top-grade cast. If you've never seen it, you're in for a real treat. Especially because the group of supporting players is basically a who's who of the finest character actors and actresses from the golden age of Hollywood.
The script has a lot of fine-tuned dialogue and just hearing these fabulous performers deliver these fabulous lines is a lot of fun. The Lubitsch touch, as it is known in the director's films, is light-hearted and a bit tongue-in-cheek. So Lubitsch takes the subject matter and he depicts heaven and hell-- and sex itself-- in amusing not frightening ways. The magical style in which characters leave their mortality behind and enter into the afterlife is gentle and charming and the death scenes are not at all like we see in other films of the period.
In the story, Ameche portrays Henry Van Cleve, a shameless Casanova whose adventures are shown in flashback as he tells Satan, and the audience, the things he did during his illustrious lifetime. Though I am quite sure Satan already knew the details. Incidentally, the Spanish title for this film is EL DIABLO DIJO NO, which literally translates as The Devil Said No. I am not sure what the Devil would be objecting to, since in the end, he does let old Henry take the elevator "up" to be reunited with Martha, suggesting Henry does get to go to heaven after all.
As Henry's story unfolds, we are handed a saga that consists of humor, razor sharp intelligence and sentiment. Some of the sentiments depicted are rather shallow and stem from a vapid male character who has to learn the hard way about his wife's true love. As stated, Gene Tierney plays Ameche's love interest, and they share considerable chemistry. The supporting cast includes Charles Coburn as Henry's down-to-earth grandfather; Spring Byington and Louis Calhern as Henry's parents; Marjorie Main and Eugene Pallette as Henry's in-laws; and Laird Cregar as His Excellency the devil.
Speaking of the devil, Laird Cregar does a good job making that character unusually likable. His Excellency has perfect manners and is friendly and approachable. Not exactly what most people associate with the fires of hell.
The film is based on a play called Birthday by Leslie Bush-Fedeke. During the extended flashbacks we see Henry go from being a ten year old boy, to a 25 year old man who first falls in love with the gal that will become his wife. Then Henry must later deal with his wife's premature death. Basically we see a man spoiled rotten as a child that grows up and learns many things.
It is very much a dialogue driven movie, yet there are some memorable visuals included. Samson Raphaelson's script is sprinkled with dry sarcasm along with some laugh-out-loud moments and absurdities. Lucky for us, the folks at Criterion issued a restored copy of the film, preserving it for generations to come.
Lilies of the Field (1963)
The infamous record scene
Let's start with the positive. First, I love the shot of the nuns' procession in the desert (after Homer has gone away for awhile). It's a great example of religious symbolism. But my favorite moment is actually the rather short scene the first time Homer goes to the grocery store. I love how he piles up the cart with goodies, because to me that is an example of storytelling and in this case, cinema, showing Christianity. That is what we Christians do, we help those in need. And Homer is a Christian who can see the nuns don't eat properly and are in need of more nourishment, even with a bit of candy thrown in for good measure!
I just love that scene where he is filling up the cart with groceries, because he is doing it not out of obligation but out of the Christian charity and goodness. We rarely see such moments of goodness and kindness in the cinema.
Now to the negative. The record scene. I feel it goes too political, too much into race politics which I don't think is necessary. What if it was a white actor in that scene, holding up a piece of chalk, saying 'This is white, I'm white, you're not white' to a bunch of black people. That would be offensive.
It isn't that the scene is really offensive, but it is that director Ralph Nelson is using actor Sidney Poitier to emphasize race at the expense of a black person. It just feels really wrong to me and is a piece of rot in this otherwise beautiful film.
I know, I know, this was 1962/1963 as the Civil Rights movement was gaining steam in America. But I just think it is enough to know the actor, Mr. Poitier and by extension his character Homer Smith, is black without belaboring the point and making a big deal of it. The scene fetishizes blackness almost, and I don't think that is what people like Dr. King wanted. The goal was inclusion, not 'look at us, we're different.' In my view, it is the one big false note in the movie.
Incidentally, my very white Irish-American aunt and her equally white German-American husband adopted two African American children. Meaning I have first cousins who are black. I would never in a million years think of having such dialogue with them, 'I'm white, you're black.' That's ridiculous and insulting. We don't play up differences, instead we play up the fact we are all part of one family.
I think the movie should have shown that these people, regardless of race, ethnicity, language, financial situations or specific religious denomination, are all Christian brethren in one family, God's family. That would be a much more positive statement, than 'I am black like this vinyl record' nonsense which is just in there by a white liberal filmmaker trying to tell audiences he cares about the issues of black people. Again he is fetishizing race and making an obvious progressive political statement that seems to do more harm than good.
I do like Homer teaching the nuns English. But I don't like how Nelson uses the scene to have Homer teach the nuns about skin color. It's just very unnecessary. Nelson fought against casting Steve McQueen (the AFI notes tell us United Artists wanted to put McQueen into the role of Homer Smith). I suspect the reason Nelson pushed for Sidney Poitier is because with a white actor, he could not do these kinds of scenes and make these kinds of didactic statements.
The real beauty and heart of the story is that we have in Homer Smith and Mother Maria two outsiders in American society who agree to work together to build something positive for their community. If I could remove the record scene, I would. I cringe and feel a bit of righteous anger every time I approach that scene in the film. Like how could Nelson wreck this beautiful movie by putting that dreadful race-related dialogue in there in such a heavy-handed way?! Shame on him, that's what I feel like shouting to the screen.
But fortunately, I never feel compelled to turn it off, because the rest of the movie (with the exeption of the 'don't call me boy' scene between Homer and Mr. Ashton) is a lot smoother, a lot more poetic, subdued and sublime.
Francis (1950)
Charming offbeat character study
Donald O'Connor had already proven himself in musical comedies at Universal by the time he was inducted into the U. S. Army in 1943. He was just eighteen years old, but beloved by movie audiences. More importantly, he was well-liked by studio execs who would continue to feature him in light fare when he returned from service to Hollywood after the war.
In 1949, the studio had an agreement with O'Connor which paid the actor $30,000 to appear in FRANCIS, a war comedy with a silly premise. Even if O'Connor wasn't bowled over by the script, the paycheck would come in handy and he said yes. It turned out to be a fortuitous bit of casting, since O'Connor's affable screen persona would work quite well with his playing opposite a mule. That's right, a mule.
It could be argued that O'Connor's character isn't nearly as fleshed out as the titular animal. In fact, Francis the mule gets some of the best dialogue (voiced by Chill Wills). Though, to be sure, O'Connor gets to ham it up as a slightly befuddled second lieutenant named Peter Stirling, whom we learn was sent to Burma where he met Francis.
The duo's initial meeting is quite memorable. Francis saves Peter, who seems very flustered in battle, from being killed. Later, Peter is recovering at a medical facility, and he tells the other men he made it to safety because of what a mule had told him. Of course, they think he's wacky. So, off he goes to a psychiatric ward. The head nurse, Valerie Humpert, is probably even nuttier than Peter is; she's portrayed by ZaSu Pitts. (Pitts would reprise her role in a later installment of the franchise.)
A subplot involves a sexy French woman (Patricia Medina) at the army camp who is dating a much-older colonel (Ray Collins). But Medina's character ends up spending more time with O'Connor's character, once she realizes he and his pal the mule can give her information that she might pass on to the Japanese. This means a long-term romance is out, since she is obviously a spy and will be caught.
Though the situations are rather amusing, none of it is really laugh out loud funny. Unless talking mules and spastic lieutenants tickle your funny bone. Mostly, this is a charming offbeat character study about a lonely guy who is befriended by an animal while serving abroad. In that regard, it's a sincerely played scenario. Contemporary audiences enjoyed it so much that Universal made six more sequels, five with O'Connor and the last one with Mickey Rooney.
The Living Daylights (1987)
Spy noir
In THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS Timothy Dalton makes his first appearance as James Bond. With any actor new to the role there are going to be sight adjustments-- ones the producers have to make to accommodate the replacement star, and ones the audience has to make in order to accept him as 007. In this case Dalton has the unenviable task of following Roger Moore who put his indelible stamp on the character.
Dalton doesn't convey Moore's brand of humor or on-screen style. But the screenplay was finished before Dalton signed on, so the material was not exactly written to his strengths as a performer. Also, I don't think the humorless stretches in THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS can be blamed on Dalton; he has been tasked with a more serious adventure and cold war drama. This installment gives viewers political intrigue and realism. And I would say Dalton is a good choice in presenting a harder edged, grittier side of the character.
In fact it feels like 007 is more mysterious. Dalton's sexuality differs from Moore and the other predecessors. His Bond isn't direct with women like we've seen in the previous films. Dalton is not necessarily reserved but he comes across as a private person. And actually, it makes sense for this type of character who should be cautious about the kinds of women he can trust and be intimate with.
Dalton brings stage experience to his acting; and his performance is more theatrically constructed than the other Bonds. He keeps the character coolly detached from the situations and a bit sharper, which in a story about tensions with the Russians would be appropriate. Yet there are still vulnerable touches the actor adds, which I believe are Dalton's own traits coming through once the defenses are down.
The Bond girl is British actress Maryam d'Abo, playing a cellist named Kara. Despite her introduction as a sniper, it is soon revealed that she is only pretending to shoot someone. She is not a killer, but a musician trying to help her boyfriend escape the KGB. She is a loving woman, which Bond can see despite the coldness in his heart. In the next part of the story, they get to know each other and he warms up to her. He realizes he can rely on her when they are trying to escape some Russians-- they go on the run through the Czech wilderness and across the border into Austria.
It is just the two of them, plus a cello she's brought along for her next concert, in Bond's all-purpose Aston Martin V8 Vantage. Eventually they have to ditch the vehicle and "sled" down a mountain on her cello case. It's a fun breathtaking sequence, and we begin to root for them as a couple, even though she still has a dangerous boyfriend who will complicate things.
Jeroen Krabbe plays the boyfriend, a creep named Koskov. He's in cahoots with a rogue arms dealer portrayed by Joe Don Baker. Baker seems to be giving his best Brando imitation as a self-appointed Napoleonic warrior who calls himself a general-- though we might question how legitimate those credentials are. Koskov is his ally and is a renegade Soviet who finds Kara disposable after a certain point, which of course clears the way for Kara to enjoy a more meaningful romance with Bond. Ultimately Kara and Bond come face to face with Koskov during a game of cat-and-mouse in Afghanistan. There's a thrilling airplane sequence which seems to have been inspired by Indiana Jones.
As things come full circle, the emphasis is on espionage. It all leads to the general's gruesome death in a standoff with Bond that takes place in a dimly lit war room. Though the action in Afghanistan occurs during the daytime, many of the film's key scenes occur at night. Visually and thematically, the picture has an overall dark tone. I'd say it is a spy-noir. Of course, you can either agree or disagree. But if you disagree too much, I might have someone knock the living daylights out of you.
Wednesday's Child (1934)
Full of woe
Based on a moderately successful Broadway play, this RKO adaptation was presented by studio producer Pandro Berman. Berman brought child star Frankie Thomas to Hollywood for his motion picture debut; Thomas had wowed critics and audiences back in New York as a ten year old boy full of woe, deeply troubled by his wealthy parents' sudden breakup. It's a searing look at a broken marriage and the child caught in the middle.
For the role of the father, Edward Arnold has been cast as a successful businessman. He's a man who loves his son but finds himself pulled in other directions. When he's not closing deals and making money, he's dealing with a cheating wife then a messy divorce. After the divorce, he still doesn't seem to have time for the boy; since there's a new woman (Shirley Grey) in the picture competing for his affections.
In the role of the mother RKO borrowed Karen Morley from MGM. Morley was not known for her sympathetic portrayals, and she does not disappoint in this offering. She's a wild cheating wife who realizes too late the error of her ways. After her affair has been found out, she's belted by Arnold, which is then used against him in the divorce court. The marriage is soon dissolved, and she gets custody of her young son. But she has quickly remarried which causes great tension.
There is some interesting dialogue. At one point Thomas's character prays to god to kill his new stepfather. In the final act, when he's been sent off to a military academy, he tells a roommate (David Durand) that he no longer has parents and boys are all he's got. It's heartbreaking stuff. Since this is a domestic melodrama, the angst is poured on thick in a few spots; but the performances are so good, and the characters so carefully etched, that can be forgiven. It's a thought-provoking story about the devastating long-term effects of a family splitting apart.
RKO remade it in 1946. That time the film was called CHILD OF DIVORCE. Frankie Thomas's character Bobby was also called Bobby in the remake. However, the child was a girl named Bobby, short for Roberta, played by Sharyn Moffett. If you're in the mood for a well-produced, well-acted think piece, I recommend watching.
The Beast of Hollow Mountain (1956)
Western horror with romance
If you like films with death by animals, then you will probably enjoy THE BEAST OF HOLLOW MOUNTAIN. This co-production between U. S. and Mexican companies was filmed on location in Mexico. It features two Hollywood stars in the lead roles- Guy Madison who had made a name for himself in the western genre; and Patricia Medina, a British import who had established herself in romance dramas and adventure flicks.
Madison and Medina play the central love story, with Medina as a Latina woman engaged to another man (Eduardo Noriega) but finding out that she'd much rather spend her life with Madison. He just came down from Texas to assume control of a ranch as well as assume control of her heart. The film's first 45 minutes or so is about the love triangle and various other Mexican-American conflicts that occur, with the two Hollywood stars flanked by an assortment of Mexican character actors.
During the romantic drama, there is a subplot involving the loss of some livestock. At first this is attributed to rustlers, but the truth is much scarier than that. Apparently, there is a dinosaur living inside a hollow mountain, hence the title, who comes out when it's hungry to devour cattle. I don't think the beast is too discerning and will eat anything fleshy, including sheep and humans.
A shadow of the prehistoric villain is not glimpsed until more than halfway into the story. And its full presence is not revealed until the 59-minute mark. Since this is a motion picture that only lasts about 80 minutes, the Tyrannosaurus Rex itself does not take center stage until the last twenty minutes. I suppose there was only so much budget and so much creativity to allow for just one elongated sequence with stop-animation techniques bringing the monster to life on screen.
While the special effects, and acting, might be regarded by today's viewers as primitive, pun intended, it's still a rather harmless way to be entertained. These kinds of movies were popular with the drive-in crowds back in the day, and they are a chance for filmmakers to try to blend genres and storytelling styles, even if the results are somewhat uneven and not one hundred percent classic.
A View to a Kill (1985)
Moore's last effort as James Bond
Roger Moore's last film as super agent James Bond is a bit of a letdown, though it is still worth watching. I'd say it's a case where the parts do not really equal a whole. It has one of the most diverse casts, the last half takes place in and around San Francisco, and as we've come to expect, there are some great stunts (involving axe-wielding along the Golden Gate bridge). But it seems like there was a better intentioned film than the one that was actually produced.
First I think the idea Bond would be caught up in technology-related crimes in the Silicon Valley is an inspired one. In the mid-80s, people were looking ahead and wondering what might happen if computerized technologies fell into the wrong hands. A bad guy like Max Zorin (Christopher Walken) sort of represents those fears. But unfortunately Zorin is not crafty enough. He doesn't come across as smart or resourceful as other Bond villains, especially with so much power and money at his disposal.
Originally David Bowie was who the producers had in mind when they were devising the villain for A VIEW TO A KILL. It's a shame Bowie turned them down, because I think he would have had a flair that would not have been upstaged by Grace Jones, who plays May Day, Zorin's partner in crime. But since we don't have Bowie, and a lot of the picture's "charm" relies on Jones, we have to just accept what we're given. Though we might ask why the writers thought it was a good idea to insert a scene where she and Bond go to bed.
We know Bond has an appetite for different types of women, but she doesn't quite seem his type; and more importantly, he doesn't seem to be her type. It's kind of far-fetched to expect them to hit it off. What's even more far-fetched is her weird change of heart near the end, where she agrees to help Bond defeat Zorin. It leads to her death, and she seems too intelligent to sacrifice herself and come to such a foolish end.
Another female character involved in the story is heiress Stacey Sutton (Tanya Roberts). She's the main Bond girl, and Zorin has been after her ass(ets) for a long time. Unfortunately, Roberts doesn't seem to have a lot of screen chemistry with Moore. In interviews he had given, Moore didn't seem to care for this picture as much as his previous turns. He made jokes about being too old, and he also did not like the excessive violence. Certainly, there are increased shootings in this installment.
But I don't think there's anything wrong with Bond being older, or his being involved in a deadlier, more violent adventure. I don't even have a major problem with a weak villain or a miscast Bond girl. All those things hurt the picture, but a Bond film can still succeed in spite of them.
I think the bigger issue is the parts do not seem to fit together like they should. It's almost like we have standalone sequences torn out of different scripts. Then someone tried to glue them together to create one huge exciting piece of entertainment. A perfect example is the firetruck chase scene, which attempts a bit of Keystone Kops comedy with Bond at the wheel, driving like mad through the city. Those ten minutes feel like they belong in another movie.
In a Bond picture we need the parts to connect. Other productions in the franchise have self-indulgent sequences but there is usually a transition or an overall theme to bring it together. Moore deserved a better swan song. Anyone who plays the world's greatest man 007 times should have a grand sendoff.
Supernatural (1933)
A force beyond her control
Though she has top billing, Carole Lombard doesn't appear until around the 14-minute mark of this 64 minute film. It's a horror flick from the folks at Paramount, who usually gave the actress comedic assignments. But Lombard was more than capable of pulling off serious dramatic roles, even if the basic concept is a bit far-fetched. She's playing a wealthy woman in her mid-20s, whose twin brother (Lyman Williams) recently died. After returning to the mansion from the funeral, she receives a note from a fake spiritualist (Alan Dinehart) who claims he's been in contact with her dead brother.
But before we get to that part of the plot, an opening sequence details the death of an unrepentant murderess (Vivienne Osborne) who cackles with delight that she's killed three of her former lovers. But there's one man who turned her into the police that she didn't kill; and before her execution, she'd like to get even with him. That man is Dinehart.
Following a bizarre conversation with a prison warden about how evil can live on after death, a doctor (H. B. Warner) is able to see Osborne in her cell. He convinces her to sign a paper, which will allow him to claim her body after the execution. Then he will see if he can combat the evil energy from her body. As I said, the concept is far-fetched, if not still intriguing. Osborne's character agrees to participate in the after-death experiment, because she hopes to transubstantiate into another body, to get revenge on Dinehart.
And this is where Lombard comes into the story. She attends a seance by Dinehart, despite her boyfriend (Randolph Scott) insisting it is all trickery. The initial seance scene is short, but there is a second seance later back at Lombard's manse, which is interestingly staged. Of course, we know Dinehart is a charlatan and he's only after Lombard's money. He kills a few people who stand in the way of that, including a drunken landlady (Beryl Mercer) who knows what he's up to and blackmails him.
Perhaps the film's most memorable sequence is the one where Lombard and Scott visit Warner's home to discuss the spiritualist. They interrupt the doc while he's working on Osborne's dead body. It's sufficiently creepy and atmospheric. Osborne tries to take over Lombard's body, but fails; but she tries again later and succeeds the second time.
The spooky hokum continues into the film's last act. Lombard is now possessed by Osborne, and she attempts to kill Dinehart while he is trying to seduce her. This occurs at Osborne's former apartment, then moves to Lombard's yacht. The sexually charged murder scene is full of precode perversity, but it's all strangely entertaining to watch. Lombard has some fascinating closeups during the climactic moments.
It's all wrapped up a bit too neatly. Scott barges on to the yacht, and he saves Lombard from killing Dinehart. Dinehart then flees and falls to his death. At which point Lombard has snapped out of her trance and is content to marry Scott and travel with him to Bermuda. I guess she won't really think too much more about her deceased brother; and nothing else is said about the doctor's experiments with the body of the woman who had been executed.
Inferno (1953)
Survival mode
This was 20th Century Fox's first and only motion picture in 3D. The fad, which didn't last long, was already petering out by the time Fox released the film into theaters. Most theaters were not equipped for 3D; so many patrons watched it in normal 2D. But the gripping final sequence which involves a huge fight with objects flying directly at the camera gives an idea of its 3D capabilities. Not to mention an exciting shot inside a burning shack where rafters cave in and flames engulf the bad guy.
William Lundigan, normally a nice guy lead in social message dramas and musicals, is cast against type as the bad guy. Sharing villain duties with him is Rhonda Fleming, an actress made for Technicolor. Lundigan is romancing the very married Fleming, and they concoct a plan to strand Fleming's wealthy husband out in the hot California desert, where he is expected to die. After Ryan's death Fleming will be free to go public with Lundigan. Then they will enjoy spending all the money she stands to inherit as a grieving widow.
While these two plot and scheme, the action continues to cut back to the desert locale, to show what is happening to Ryan. A good deal of the movie involves him suffering from a broken leg in the arid climate. He is running out of food and water, and trying to stay alive. Those scenes, filmed on location in Apple Valley, depict Ryan's very detailed situation in survival mode. There is considerable voice-over dialogue; I guess the screenwriters were afraid to have him talk to himself out loud. When he comes across a bird or a wild rabbit, or a wolf that takes the rabbit, he does talk to those animals.
As we watch Ryan's determination to get back to civilization and exact revenge against his wife and her lover, we are reminded just how delicate a person's life can be. Ryan grows as a character, learning something about himself in his battle against a harsh nature; namely, that money is not everything. What's more important is one's resourcefulness. There's a great scene where he learns to harvest cactus juice. God helps those who help themselves and all that.
Eventually, Ryan's character is rescued by an old prospector (Henry Hull) in a jalopy who takes him to the aforementioned shack. Meanwhile, Lundigan and Fleming realize Ryan must still be alive; so they return to the place where they originally abandoned Ryan. To ensure he's really dead this time, they will commit coldblooded murder. However, a lovers quarrel causes them to separate, which leads Lundigan to the shack and a fateful confrontation with Ryan in which the prospector's dwelling catches fire.
The film is kind of a three-character study, four if you count the prospector. There isn't a lot of action or glamour. It's more a meditation on the basics of life, as opposed to material trappings. Indeed, we realize that those things only invite greed and killing. It's what a man can do when he relies on his own ingenuity that counts...his spirit and will to live. It's not just his ability to fight back; it's his great resilience.
The F.B.I.: The Hiding Place (1966)
Irresponsible episode
It's a bit baffling to see the higher scores from others. What is not baffling is why the episode's broadcast was delayed by the network. What we have is an irresponsible plot that revisits the U. S.-Japanese conflicts of World War II...only this time the villain is not just a Japanese man, but a Japanese-American man...indicating there is still a threat within the country by such people, and the FBI must intervene.
As if that is not enough, there is a McCarthy era type witch hunt going on...where everyone in the town suspects each other of being the Japanese-American bad guy. Of course the town has to be populated by all Japanese Americans (and populated by more men than women) for this plot to work. Apparently there is no such thing in the mid-1960s as an integrated community.
There is a cringeworthy scene in the middle of the episode in which a gang of Japanese American youth wreck a store because they falsely blame the store owner of being the villain. None of them get arrested.
When a blind Caucasian guy shows up to help expose the villain, because he was a former POW in a Japanese camp and knows what the man's voice sounds like, we are meant to sympathize and root for him. He lost his sight and his mind due to the atrocities that were inflicted on him in the Japanese camp. This is a story clearly aimed at Caucasian men at home watching, who had been in the war, and who still hated the Japanese.
It's an episode that should've never seen the light of day. I might have gone along with it on some level if the acting was decent, but there is a lot of poor acting from the guest stars. Strange jingoism twenty years after the Second World War mixed with high school level theatrics make this a poorly devised offering of The FBI series.
The Wolf Man (1941)
A lot of innocent people might be hurt
Released six years after WEREWOLF OF LONDON, Universal's original entry in the series- and just two days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor- THE WOLF MAN lives in infamy as one of the studio's most popular horror films. Though initially panned by some critics in late 1941, it would prove successful with audiences and was a bigger hit at the box office than its predecessor.
While the real-life horror of the second world war played out during the next several years, horror as a movie genre evolved from serious "A" budget fare to lower budgeted whimsy and ultimately turned into a form of self-parody. But THE WOLF MAN is done in a fairly straightforward fashion...no small feat.
The film was given more than a modest-sized budget for hair and make-up; plenty of that is on display in the form of the title character, played by Lon Chaney Jr. He had been known up to this point as the son of Lon Chaney (Sr.), who specialized in grotesque characterizations during the silent era. Also, Chaney Jr. Was regarded for his role as the mentally challenged Lennie in the stage version and subsequent 1939 screen adaptation of John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men.
But when he was hired to play Larry Talbot in THE WOLF MAN, the actor found his greatest role and lasting fame. His screen immortality would be assured with this iconic appearance as well as a succession of appearances in several sequels. Bela Lugosi, who is cast as a gypsy's son, had coveted the lead role here. But Bela's star was waning. Interestingly, Chaney Jr. Wanted to play the PHANTOM OF THE OPERA in the studio's 1943 remake of his father's most well-known picture, but Claude Rains snagged it.
Rains takes an important supporting role in THE WOLF MAN. He's on hand as the estranged British father of Larry Talbot (Chaney Jr.). Their relationship is a Greek tragedy of sorts. When Larry becomes bitten during a brawl- and experiences the curse of a werewolf- a killing spree occurs. His refined dear old dad must stop him and put him out of his misery forever. Otherwise a lot of innocent people might be hurt.
Octopussy (1983)
Moore's back with Adams
Roger Moore returns for a sixth time as James Bond in this motion picture. It's a different story, somewhat darker in tone than it's predecessor-- a bit sexier and more glamorous. Moore is starting to show his age (he will have plastic surgery before he makes his next and last Bond film); and he's not as fit as he was when he starred in his first Bond picture. But he makes up for these inadequacies in grand style and in his genuine understanding of the character. As expected, he brings finesse to the more outlandish plot points and carries it all off with complete conviction.
One thing I love about this film is its powerful lead female, the title character. She's portrayed by Maud Adams, whom I have to admit is my favorite of all the Bond girls. They've colored her hair a darker shade to make it seem like the character has been influenced the culture of India (where she's based); and also probably to distinguish her from the blonde tresses she sported as another character in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN.
In some Bond offerings, Moore does not have a lot of chemistry with the leading ladies because they tend to be too young or miscast; but his chemistry with Adams is enjoyable to watch. They're good friends off camera, which gives their scenes together a real dimension whether they're supposed to be enemies or lovers-- and in this story, they're both.
One thing that doesn't work so well is the casting of Louis Jourdan as a "villain" interested in a faberge egg. His character is quite emasculated around Adams, and it's difficult to tell if this was intentional. As a result, Jourdan lacks menace in scenes where he is supposed to be a formidable opponent for Bond, whether they're playing high-stakes backgammon or having an outdoor chase atop elephants.
At one point we see Jourdan aiming a rifle at our hero with the goal of killing him; but I wouldn't even imagine Jourdan harmed a fly during that little adventure. Jourdan is too polished, too clean to really make us think he would ever get his hands dirty chasing an agent through a jungle. We see him again during the climactic finale where he's trying to outfox Adams and steal some gems, but he still comes across as an amateur rogue.
Some critics find fault with the last sequence. I agree the film works better in its Indian locale. When it heads to Europe for a circus show (in which Moore gets to dress up as a clown), things get bogged down. The circus sequence is 45 minutes long, and it drags out to the point that we almost don't care anymore about the outcome, practically forgetting how it all connects back to a sequence near the beginning of the movie.
In 1983 there were two Bond films in release. This is because a different set of producers remade THUNDERBALL, and Sean Connery appeared in NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN. Moore's film premiered in June and grossed $183 million; while Connery's flick hit screens in October, grossing $160 million.
It's a shame they couldn't get together and make a more original story about two Bonds, with Moore and Connery playing opposite each other in a mystery about which one was real and which one was an impostor. It might have been kind of comical to see them side by side, letting us figure out how Bond should really act. The story might have gone in more interesting directions, as many directions as the tentacles of an octopus.
As the Earth Turns (1934)
"It's where I want to be. My whole life is here."
In a way, there are almost too many characters to keep track of in this film; and I suspect there are more in the novel by Gladys Carroll upon which it is based. Some of them are introduced in the first act, called Winter, then diminish in importance. During one of the later seasons, a whole family moves away, because they cannot make a go of their land. Often, leaving for the city is the only answer, a means of escape.
A few characters, though, do remain on screen for most of the picture. The star is Jean Muir, playing a very plain farm girl who mothers everyone around her...including her needy stepmother (Clara Blandick) and even needier stepsister (Dorothy Appleby). She also finds time to make meals for her dad (David Landau) and counsels her brother (William Janney) that his future is in a law office, not on the farm.
This is set in rural Maine. It all starts during a harsh winter, and the story progresses through the following seasons until it comes full circle again the next winter. Living off the land is based on what happens each season, related to crops and harvesting; or to the production of dairy and sale of livestock. One compelling segment shows how a neighboring family will fall on hard times when an important cow dies. The economy is fragile in this environment.
Also fragile in this environment: matters of the heart. Muir's character falls in love with the son of a new Polish family, played by Donald Woods. They are the couple we are meant to root for, even though they are slow to acknowledge their feelings for each other. At one point Woods leaves the area when his barn burns down, but he does come back at the end to marry Muir, providing a happy ending.
Watching the film I was reminded of my own background, growing up in rural Wisconsin. My grandfather was somewhat shiftless, like one of the characters on screen. As a result, my grandmother had to take matters into her own hands to ensure the home farm ran smoothly and the family didn't starve. This was in the days before birth control was widely practiced. Women like my grandmother were tied down with lots of kids; my grandparents had nine, not counting some that my grandmother miscarried or lost in childbirth.
My father was the oldest, and like one of the younger characters in the movie, he tried to get away. He went off to college to forge a different career, but he did come back. That is how my sister and I spent our early childhood on a farm. But my father didn't make a go of it, so we left for a nearby town, then moved out west where my father found work as a teacher.
Meanwhile, my grandmother had become quite wealthy. She ended up owning seven farms and was one of the first millionaires in that agricultural community. Actually, she bought the farm we vacated; it became one of her investments. I could always go back to visit what we left behind. The land and its people have stayed with me. I still feel connected to it, no matter how many times the earth has turned.
I colpevoli (1957)
"It's difficult to hide your responsibility."
Translated into English, the title of this film literally means THE GUILTY. It's a step up from the usual juvenile delinquent dramas of the period, taking its cue from Hollywood's REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE, but going the extra mile. It is more a philosophical examination of a teen who has failed and the parents who have failed him. A young son (Sandro Ninchi) will be charged and stand trial, convicted as the guilty one along with his hoodlum pals; but mother (Isa Miranda) and father (Carlo Ninchi, real-life uncle of Sandro) are just as guilty in their own way.
The most riveting performance is the one given by Isa Miranda. She was an international success, making films in different countries, including the United States where Paramount Pictures touted her as an Italian Dietrich. At this stage, she is 52 and easily looks like she's in her late 30s. Her line readings are fascinating, and her dramatic emoting is mesmerizing to say the least.
The story features Miranda as a doting, overprotective mom; while hubby is a magistrate, up for an important government position. On the eve of this promotion, it is learned their son went out with a group of friends to a party. But after dancing and drinking, they did something rather dumb- they went to a gas station where they had been earlier in the day and proceeded to rob the joint. In the process of robbing the place, someone was shot and killed.
What's kind of great about this film is that it doesn't rush into the violence, and the murder scene is delayed so it is not viewed until halfway into the movie. Even then, it is a flashback...quick scenes really, as the teen boy confesses in a distraught scene at home, to his folks, that he was involved in a killing some time earlier in the evening.
Initial reactions denote shock and horror. Mixed into this is a bit of a mystery. Did their son pull the trigger, or was it another boy in the gang who did the actual shooting? They need to believe everything they are being told. The father goes off to visit the other boy to get the truth. Meanwhile, Miranda's character continues trying to protect her boy, thinking what occurred can be covered up and that none of it will have to be reported. She's wrong, of course.
Not only must she deal with her own serious denial about her son's serious problems, she becomes alienated from her husband. If the truth is known, it will ruin any chances of getting the new government job. Also, if the son is convicted, and he is the only child they have, this couple will be left alone to deal with their grief.
This is a family that suffers immeasurably because of something terrible that has happened. It's something that might have been prevented with better parenting. We're left to ponder that for ourselves. The premise is a simple one. As the tragedy spins outward, everyone is caught up in it and forever changed by it.
For Your Eyes Only (1981)
Logically plotted, provides consistent thrills
It had been two years since MOONRAKER, and this time the producers decided to bring 007 back down to earth. Aside from an opening sequence that is unrelated to the rest of the movie, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY is very logically plotted and provides consistent thrills. What works so well in this installment is the stupendous stunt work. Sometimes it's like the rest of the material takes a backseat. I'd compare it to going to a circus where you just sit back and let the flying trapeze artists take over and wow you with their own brand of magic or razzmatazz.
After some fancy helicopter flying in the pre-opening credit sequence, there is an amazing ski chase that has to be seen to be believed; as well as great underwater stunts that occur later in the picture. Plus there's a heart-pounding finale where Bond and his friends climb a steep mountain, and one character falls off the side of it.
When we're not watching the stunts, our eyes are focused on the acting. The Bond girl is Carole Bouquet-- she's playing the daughter of a murdered tycoon who wants to avenge her father's death. Meanwhile the story's main villain comes in the form of Julian Glover. Glover's character is presented as an ally in the early part of the story but gradually his true colors are revealed. In addition to these two we have Topol in a role about as far removed from Tevye as you can possibly imagine-- he's a pistachio munching businessman with a penchant for adventure who assists Bond and the girl on various capers.
There is quite a bit of cheeky humor this time around. Moore is given lines that mock his opponents and says things to the opposite sex that can be interpreted in a variety of ways. Of course, this occurs in all the Bond films. But I think because this is the fifth one he's done, Moore is a lot more sardonic at this point, and he's having fun with the situations and the dialogue.
Finally I should mention a scene where Bond has to be more ruthless than usual. In fact Moore tried to have this part of the script changed, then realized it worked for the character. It's where he's chased some nefarious dude to the edge of a cliff and as the man's car teeters over the side and he begs for mercy, Bond just sort of reaches out with his foot and kicks him down into the abyss. Some people get kicked to the curb and some get kicked a little further.
Moonraker (1979)
Bond gets help defeating a space age villain
Roger Moore is back as the world's number one spy. Only this time Bond becomes more like an astronaut. In order to capitalize on the late 70s science fiction craze, producers have decided to get a bit futuristic with the character. He is now battling an adversary named Drax-- an evil industrialist determined to control the space age for personal gain. Drax is portrayed by French actor Michael Lonsdale. And trust me, he's not someone you want to mess with before he has his first cup of coffee in the morning.
Meanwhile, our lovely Bond girl is Holly Goodhead played by Lois Chiles. It is quickly established that Holly is an American CIA agent, posing as an astronaut. Like Bond she's been sent to infiltrate Drax's organization. Together they will thwart his plans to destroy the earth's population and start over with a new super race. Of course, Holly falls in love with Bond and the relationship develops into one that is out of this world in more ways than one.
The first half of the film seems fairly routine as these plots go. Bond is seen globe trotting, dealing with various people working for Drax. One of them is Jaws, a henchman who appeared in the previous 007 picture. Jaws is now less sinister and used for comic relief. There is a spectacular scene atop a hanging cable car in Rio, where Jaws wants to harm Bond. He tries to sever the cable by chewing his way through it. He probably had a bit of indigestion afterward. (The thick cable was actually soft licorice that actor Richard Kiel was able to enjoy on camera.)
After the Rio sequence, Bond and Holly make their way up the Amazon jungle to Drax's South American headquarters. This is where the story heads into sci-fi territory. Bond and Holly arrive just as Drax is launching rockets into outer space, taking with him the "perfect" human specimens he has chosen to start his new race. In a way it's funny to see Roger Moore and Lois Chiles try to blend in with the other actors, who are much younger and different in appearance.
It's even funnier watching Jaws and his girlfriend Dolly try to blend in. They're a true cinematic match if ever there was one. Of course Jaws with his deformities and Dolly with her unique height make them less than ideal for Drax's experiment. But hey, they're not going anywhere, and neither is Bond, until Drax gets what he deserves.