Friday, April 17, 2009

The Body Snatcher (1945), Robert Wise.

Even when the sun shines in Edinburgh it's easy to feel trapped in a stone maze surrounded by ghosts. This film, based on Robert Louis Stevenson's short story of the same name, captures that atmosphere quite well. This shows how resourceful Val Lewton and his crew could be, because this was not shot anywhere near Edinburgh but in California, using scraps of old movie sets including one for the Hunchback of Notre Dame! Lewton's Bs demonstrate how creativity can overcome budget limitations. Just compare this with The Devil Commands, which also stars Boris Karloff, and tell me audiences didn't get way more bang for their buck. In this one, Karloff escapes from playing one-note monsters. His grave robbing Cabman Gray is played so well that even this bullying, menacing character manages -at least for one split second- to seem sympathetic. He is an excellent adversary for the story's central character, a respected but morally conflicted physician played by Henry Daniell.

This DVD, from the Val Lewton Horror Collection, has an enjoyable commentary by director Robert Wise who sheds light on how Bs worked. Wise explained that studios would have produced around sixty films a year, of which forty-odd were B's. Although he had only been a film editor up to that point, Wise was offered to direct this film because the current director had been unable to stay on the tight schedule that such an output demanded from B directors. While perhaps not an environment conducive to self-indulgences, the Bs seemed to have been a place where those who were willing to play the game could transform their careers.

Friday, April 10, 2009

The Tin Star (1957), Anthony Mann.

Good Ol' Doc McCord's message of owning up to responsibility apparently also means that women should shut up and produce sons!

Anthony Perkins stars as a timid young man who clings to his sheriff's badge and Henry Fonda appears as his balls. Mentor? Sure, OK, Henry Fonda is a crusty old bounty hunter who takes a liking to Perkins and acts as his mentor. Kind of formulaic and predictable; Fonda's gunslinger-in-the-shadows character reminded me a bit of Alan Ladd's Shane, which came four years before this. In both movies, I figured it could be possible that both Ladd's Shane and Fonda's Morg could be interpreted - even at a bit of a stretch - as figures of the imagination. Passable Saturday afternoon western. Perkins is a kind of lily-livered sheriff; if I lived in this town I would be on the next wagon out just to be on the safe side. This movie has a lingering odor of misogyny wafting through it, emanating from the new if dull and moralizing world of lawfulness.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

The Ghost Ship (1943), Mark Robson.

Ooh, a good one! What do sailors need all these knives for, anyway? Short little B that manages to keep you biting nails while examining concepts like the limit of authority and whether man is essentially good or evil. Young new officer finds himself reporting to philosophical, fatherly captain (Richard Dix, who speaks in completely measured tones the entire film) but things get interesting quickly.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Leopard Man (1943), Jacques Tourneur.


A little flabby, a little sluggish. Set, strangely, in a little open-air nightclub in Mexico that caters to American tourists. Dull but pretty Jean Brooks brings a leopard on a leash into her act in an attempt to upstage her more talented colleague, a spicy flamenco dancer. Leopard gets away and begins chewing on the local folk. Features flaky museum curator, who philosophizes that life is much like a ball floating in a fountain jet: "we know as little about the forces of the universe that move us as that ball does." Uh, OK professor. Interesting to see the same ingredients for B-movie horror (exotic setting, strange evil presence, rational/scientific authoritative figure) but slightly rearranged.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Lost Weekend (1945), Billy Wilder.

Is it just me, or is the lighting in that apartment really harsh?

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of the New Hollywood (2008), Mark Harris

Warren Beatty is a catalytic character in both Pictures at a Revolution and 1999's Easy Riders and Raging Bulls: How Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll Saved Hollywood by Peter Biskind. Biskind's book looks at the testosterone trail of Beatty, Robert Evans et al (and defeats his own title thesis by discussing the ultimate takeover by Lucas and Spielberg), but Harris' book patiently studies just the transition points of old and new Hollywood, focusing on the production and reception of five films during 1966-7 (The Graduate, Dr. Dolittle, In The Heat of the Night, Bonnie and Clyde and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner). The book is a study of contrasts: the fossilized studio generation and the new boomers/hippies, east and west coast, studio bloat and rigidity and the push by new faces for new approaches, such as the creative use of colour for "serious" films. Harris' mature analysis provides the wider picture of American society in transition - focusing most strongly on the rise of the civil rights movement- and documents how art does not always neatly align with actual events but rather timing is everything.

Perhaps more so than Beatty, Harris makes Sidney Poitier his central figure; Harris' impressive research shedding light on the challenges faced by the actor who was the only black leading actor for years and Hollywood's "Acceptable Negro." The book is beautifully structured. Early in, we are invited to a beach party hosted by the Fondas; Peter has invited the Byrds and Henry wonders if they can't keep the racket down. The book culminates with the 1967 Oscars, postponed, out of respect, until two days after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. and hosted by an out of touch Bob Hope who joked that the delay "didn't affect me, but has been tough on the nominees -- how would you like to spend two days in a crouch?"

Because it inspires hope, I was relieved to learn that 1963 was considered a nadir for movies, with overblown sword and sandal pix (the equivalent of today's superhero flicks?) boring the public, and to understand that the Oscars have always been a sham, and even more so, that many Oscar winning "classics" were considered by most critics to be junk. I'd only seen snippets of Guess Who's Coming for Dinner but always thought it had a somnolent effect - and so to read that by contemporary standards director Stanley Kramer's visual style was risibly out of date and his messages considered heavy handed and condescending is a relief. Every passage about what an asshat Rex Harrison was, was also quite hilarious. If you have read it, this is a great companion to Easy Riders and Raging Bulls.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Bells (1926), James Young.

Innkeeper Lionel Barrymore can't manage his money, and when the man he is indebted to threatens to take his daughter as payment, he murders a wealthy traveler. Boris Karloff shows up in a Caligari-esque outfit (cape and circular framed specs) as a hypnotist who threatens to assist the local police root out the murderer. Loooooooosely based on the Edgar Allen Poe poem (Lionel hears bells ring a couple times) according to some. Was apparently a hit stage production back in the day but doesn't really hold up today. I grew tired of the young couple and their primping and fussing. Young couples always ruin the fun (see any Marx bros film). Also could not sympathize much with Barrymore: strange protagonist who, in unsatisfying ending, reveals his crime but only in a dream sequence, which seems to nullify the confession.

In his biography, All My Yesterdays, Edward G Robinson tells how he and school friend Joseph (Pepe) Schildkraut stayed up all night, dramatizing the story (which he claims comes from Henry James), "giving myself, of course, the juicy part of the burgomaster." Robinson pitched the idea and soon starred in the lead role for four weeks, opening at the Plaza Theatre on Lexington Ave, and this performance marked the first time Emmanuel Goldenberg appeared as Edward G Robinson.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Paris Qui Dort / The Crazy Ray / 3:25 (1925), Rene Clair

The only woman in the world...

Lovely, short (18 min) whimsical silent that finds one man awakes to find himself alone in an empty Paris. Climbing down from the Eiffel Tower, he realizes that the city is not empty but asleep, all its inhabitants frozen in time. He and a troupe of air passengers from Marseilles live upon the Eiffel Tower, their boredom deepening, until they hear a radio message calling all "survivors" to the address of an eccentric scientist.

Is this an innocent precursor to I Am Legend?

is watched by the only remaining men.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Madcap: the life of Preston Sturges (1999), Donald Spoto.

Wow, this is a terrible, paint-by-numbers biography. Doubts set in on page 42, when Spoto described Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain"as a toilet seat. Dude, urinal! I did, however, enjoy finally reading about Isadora Duncan's bizarre death after the author alluded to it about ninety times in the first few chapters. I have the feeling this will be something I am reviewing without finishing (venal sin for reviewers, I know).

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Murder, My Sweet (1944), Edward Dmytryk.

Bunny Lebowski, erm - Mrs Helen Grayle.

"I only took the job because my bank account was trying to crawl under a duck... And my mind felt like a plumber's handkerchief." It seems like every movie alludes to an earlier one sometimes, so watching this flick gave me a strange sensation, like looking at a photo of the big bang, or your own conception: here it all begins. Well, sure, the Maltese Falcon was made earlier, but the Big Sleep hadn't yet been. Apparently Powell was the only guy Chandler approved of onscreen as Marlowe. He was pretty great yelling at those cops!

What a forgettable title!

Marlowe's drug addled nightmare.