A Quiet Place Part II.

Review #1683: A Quiet Place Part II.

Cast: 

Emily Blunt (Evelyn Abbott), Cillian Murphy (Emmett), Millicent Simmonds (Regan Abbott), Noah Jupe (Marcus Abbott), Djimon Hounsou (Man On Island), John Krasinski (Lee Abbott), and Scoot McNairy (Marina Man) Directed by John Krasinski (#1073 - A Quiet Place)

Review: 

Honestly, I don't really think much about a sequel to a modern movie. Really, think about this for a second here from a guy who still likes to look upon what interesting movie can sit on the shelf for the next time being. I had to wonder just how weird that might seem from looking in my archives about the ratio of original to "adaptation" in the films I saw in the last big year for movies in the theater: 2019. That year saw 31 movies seen mostly in theater-form but ended up having just half that was actually based on original material. Ah but one really wants to think about the year before that with 2018, and that is how we get to A Quiet Place, which was one of the few original ideas to really sit on my "conventional" radar, and it might have actually been the best horror flick I saw that year (with a year for Hereditary and Halloween, the argument could be a tough one for each). It shouldn't be forgotten that the original script had been done by Bryan Woods and Scott Beck, for which John Krasinski (who had two comedy-dramas to his credit with Brief Interviews with Hideous Men (2009) and The Hollars (2016), incidentally) had read that script and found it appealing; he would end up enlisted by Paramount Pictures to re-write the script and direct the movie. A Quiet Place ended up as an interesting movie because it wasn't quite a gimmick movie that one might think of it (besides, there are quite a few movies that don't have much dialogue if one wants to spur their memory, such as All is Lost (2013)). Sure, the creatures are ones that rely on sound to stalk their prey (with a loud bustling modern world, good luck), but it was also a deep family movie. With the success of the film, rumblings for a sequel did not take too long to bubble to the surface, for which Krasinski would write and direct that had its premiere on March 8 of 2020 that was meant to be released into theaters twelve days after that, two years after the original release (the reason for this recap is mostly for my memory, but also because I can re-iterate my one pet peeve for any horror movie that is released in the spring. Simply put, get your horror priorities in the fall where it belongs, but 2020 has some stretching grounds). Fourteen months later, here we are with a sequel.

Did I mention my surprise about a sequel? Honestly, does every horror movie need a follow-up movie? I remember the ending of the first movie just fine, one that had a character with a weapon ready to aim at the creature, having figured out what one figures out in a time of silence and hearing aids. It might be a good omen or a mild harbinger that the opening scene involves a brief glimpse into what the world was before the noise-monsters came, and Krasinski certainly does well with setting the stage for what was and what is to come within the family angle and the key addition of Murphy to the cast. It reminds me of the dubious question one has when it comes to seeing it in a big theater or not, in that a movie depending on folks getting away unheard is best seen in a big screen but without paying too much attention to too much crowd noise (such as...popcorn?). But hey, one can watch movies with subtitles from around the world, so why stop now? I think most of this paragraph is trying to hide the easiest point: it just isn't as good as the first film. It is not so much that it isn't scarier than before, or even so much because the acting isn't as good, because on a technical level it works pretty good. But really, think hard about this: it has the same problem in rhythm of continuation that seems comparable to Halloween II (1981). Roll with me on this for a moment. Both movies take off right from where the last one ended with the bare hint of a follow-up, and both find themselves with a narrative that splits the characters up, and both probably try to one-up the level of terror from before a bit too much (sure, one movie has a needle jabbed into a sensitive spot, but this movie has someone get their foot into a bear trap, so am I really pulling your goat too much?). Ah, but here's the problem: At least Halloween II didn't feel like it was begging for more at the end, and it seemed to have more stakes involved with its climax for the characters left at the end (I doubt that A Quiet Place will turn into a movieblob of a franchise like Halloween, but apparently a spin-off is in development). Weird twists may reign true with the older movie, but at least I appreciate its schlock factor more so than a movie that could be thought of as half-hearted with actually being a sequel. With a run-time of 97 minutes, one can wonder exactly how A Quiet Place Part II will do with the passage of time, or at least when considered in the context of the wait that befell it when really the best way to describe it is just "okay". It's an okay movie, filled with a decent cast and some level of terror within the idea of monsters that will just charge and destroy your world like that...and maybe there is still some room for folks to eke out a living. But hey, let's start with the cast and go from there. Murphy certainly plays it exactly to the bone for what is needed in a bleary movie that hints at cynicism, and it is refreshing to see him there and be paired with Simmons. In that regard, Simmons continues well with her performance (done mostly in American Sign Language, as one remembers from before), which serves for a fairly useful time, showing a bit more maturity that is expected - the dynamic between them is almost engaging enough to carry the film. Alas, one doesn't find as much engaging balance on the other side, because Blunt manages an okay performance that can't quite react to the terror as well this time around. Let me put it this way: monsters seem to lose a bit of their effectiveness the more you see them in a sequel, so one has to find a way to make the stakes and drama count, or they will end up seeming as concerned as being in Jaws 2 (1978). Jupe's best scene involves him having a visceral scream after being bear-trapped, really. Hounsou and McNairy make momentary impressions on the coin of societies made after the disaster that relates to water (get it, because the creatures not only are blind but can't swim). They are okay, but inevitability always seems to strike at the points you think will happen but not as many times as possible. Think about it: each movie has six actors (Krasinski is technically seven, but can you count a flashback?), and this doesn't even count the baby (don't get me started on babies in horror movies). I feel that the first film did a better job in handling the bleakness of trying to hold together as a family in a nightmare better than a film that doesn't do much with the idea of trying to expand beyond that, and the climax only seems to serve as a hard nudge for another movie (sure, it closes the narratives similarly, but...), and in general I feel that the movie only has moved narrowly in trying to maintain the scares of creatures that rely on you not talking. It might not fall into the realm of gimmick-making, that is for sure. Inevitability is a tough thing to accept, but the film ultimately proves that it can be okay to be average enough if the attention is built enough to hold it for the masses, for better or worse. If you really want to know what happens when you pull the covers all the way through the bed for the monster, you could do okay here, but just don't be disappointed at where that goes from there.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Aelita.

Review #1682: Aelita.

Cast:

Yuliya Solntseva (Aelita, Queen of Mars), Igor Ilyinsky (Kravtsov - amateur sleuth), Nikolai Tsereteli (Engineer Los / Evguieni Spiridinov), Nikolay Batalov (Gusev, Red Army Soldier), Vera Orlova (Nurse Masha, Gusev's Wife), Valentina Kuindzhi (Natasha, Los' Wife), Pavel Pol (Viktor Erlich, Sugar Profiteer), Konstantin Eggert (Tuskub, Ruler of Mars), Yuri Zavadsky (Gol, Radiant Energy Tower Guardian) Directed by Yakov Protazanov.

Review:

Long staircases, filled with wide shots of people in costumes that try to portray what it would be like if there were people on Mars, wrapped in a narrative of imagination along with a look into the conventional life of a time long since passed that show some parallels within a quasi-focus on science fiction. Yep, sounds like Aelita, also known as Aelita: Queen of Mars and released in an edited form in the States as "Aelita: Revolt of the Robots". Tellingly, as a movie from the Soviet Union, it was released by the studio Mezhrabpom-Rus, part of Workers International Relief (initially created as a counterpart to help with contributions to famine relief that was a counterpart to Western efforts that probably humbled the Soviets, and it is likely worth further research for the curious). This is based on Alexei Tolstoy's 1923 novel of the same name (one key difference in transition involved the Martians not being descendants of Atlanteans). Aelita was not a major success in its time, but it serves an early example of what could come from science fiction on film, particularly with its designs that could be thought of as an inspiration to subsequent works within the genre (such as Metropolis or the Flash Gordon serials). At any rate, the director responsible was a veteran director in Yakov Protazanov, who had been involved with film since 1907, which he had done after rejecting the profession that his father and others had done before him as merchants. He directed a variety of features in the decade of the 1910s before emigrating out of Russia in 1920, for which he did not return for three years. At any rate, he would continue to make films until his death in 1945.

Sometimes the past turns out to be stronger than any one person can be. Or perhaps the real message is for one to get on with their lives and focus on a collective effort rather than individual dilly-dallying. I guess you can make any kind of inference when the emphasis isn't so much a man trying to get to Mars as it is a look into what makes the difference in a society that needs people to engage with reality instead of fantasies or vices of the mind. Weirdness works out best when it comes to near century-old cinema that happens to dabble in science fiction that might as well be thought of as an offbeat fable, which I suppose plays into whoever wants to believe in the film's moments of imagination (one can interpret it as a parable for communism, particularly with its imagery, although since we are talking about imaginary entertainment, you can imagine my amusement at describing it as such). On one side, there are slaves that are seen being put into the cold storage when used up to contrast with people running away on spaceships after shooting folks for imagined betrayals. So yeah, it kind of sits well with those type of American silent movies that dabbled with a genre 25% of the time to go with the conventional angle, complete with a "uh huh, sure" type of ending (in other words, 1924 expectations); it all starts with a message of "Anta Odeli Uta" and some constructivist sets (it is best described as "abstract and austere", with the best example being the Shukhov Tower). These sets were done by Issac Rabinovich and Victor Simov, while the costumes were done by Aleksandra Ekster. Solntseva made her debut with this film, the first of six in her career (her last film was Earth (1930), made by the famed Alexander Dovzhenko); she would become a director after a variety of work with her husband Dovzhenko that included Chronicle of Flaming Years (1961, which won her the award for Best Director at the Cannes Film Festival, the first and only women to win it for a half-century). She does well here, playing to the flair needed in a role with wires that quietly asks for histrionics without needing to chew all of the scenic routes. Mystery comes easy when paired with Eggert for Martian scheming. Tsereteli fits the conventional counterpart just fine, where one isn't begging to be back on the Red Planet instead of focusing on obsessions and quirks within oddballs like Ilyinsky or troubles involving revolution/kissing. At 113 minutes, it might beg a bit too much on one's patience if it doesn't fit your mindset of what one thinks of when it comes to science fiction, or perhaps its attempts at social commentary will hit the nail just fine (or it will hit like a bloody stump, evidently). I thought it was a decent movie, one that certainly seems more interesting when on Mars than back home, but that could apply to a good number of sci-fi movies at any rate. The historical value of its style and execution certainly will prove more than enough to deliver for one's attention after all these years.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Dressed to Kill.

Review #1681: Dressed to Kill.

Cast: 

Basil Rathbone (Sherlock Holmes), Nigel Bruce (Dr. John H. Watson), Patricia Morison (Hilda Courtney/Charwoman), Edmund Breon ("Stinky" Emery), Frederick Worlock (Colonel Cavanaugh), Carl Harbord (Inspector Hopkins), Patricia Cameron (Evelyn Clifford), Holmes Herbert (Ebenezer Crabtree), Harry Cording (Hamid), Leyland Hodgson (Tour Guide), and Mary Gordon (Mrs. Hudson) Directed by Roy William Neill (#846 - Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, #873 - Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon, #925 - Sherlock Holmes in Washington, #936 - Sherlock Holmes Faces Death, #1021 - The Spider Woman, #1040 - The Scarlet Claw, #1056 - The Pearl of Death, #1161 - The House of Fear, #1216 - The Woman in Green, #1262 - Pursuit to Algiers, #1620 - Terror by Night)

Review: 

It has been said that Basil Rathbone wondered aloud on the set with one vocal question: "Why am I doing this?" Dressed to Kill is the fourteenth and final installment of the Rathbone-Bruce Sherlock Holmes series. If one had to play a character for seven years that had three notable phases, one can probably see where Rathbone's quandary comes in. At least the shift from to B-movie didn't hinder the look of these movies, because even when Universal Pictures aimed them for the war-time crowd, the movies managed to retain a basic sense of enjoyable mystery. Four of the twelve Universal films had managed to fall into the public domain (with this being one of them, although searching for the others isn't too hard) because of a lack of copyright renewal, and they were even released with digital restoration and colorization (by computers). It is only in recent years that one can enjoy these movies in proper DVD/Blu-Ray releases, for which can credit the UCLA Film and Television Archive (who restored the movies from 1993 to 2001, with funding coming from UCLA, Hugh Hefner, and later Warner Bros). Prints don't always survive in great condition, so imagine having to come up with something where the best possible prints are from 16-millimeter transfers. At any rate, this movie was written by Frank Gruber and Leonard Lee, with the former writer responsible for the previous film with Terror by Night. This time around, the plot involves music boxes with printing plates put in them that are...ripe enough for murder. It basically is a cat-and-mouse game to figure out what the boxes and plates mean before one side can get all three boxes. It might seem a bit familiar to The Pearl of Death (1944), which involved a thief putting a stolen pearl into one of a select group of Napoleon busts that hired a killer to find the bust at the cost of the folks with the busts, and that movie credited the 1904 story The Adventure of the Six Napoleons as its inspiration. It also borrows an aspect used in previous movies with a femme fatale as one of the key adversaries. One can credit the fact that these movies don't become a parody of themselves and have a remarkable consistency that while not exactly better than average is at the very least one to respect with craftsmanship. 

It all helps to have a few offbeat moments. Rathbone gets to fall under danger with a whole thing about gas that seems quite silly when paired with an earlier scene about comparing notes of the music box with a friend (of course hearing that box over and over doesn't help) and Bruce gets to make duck noises...somehow there is a context to that (i.e. a girl getting beat up for a music box that cries when found by the duo). Ah but that isn't quite fair to him, because they the exact chemistry needed to make this series roll as it needs to, and one only wonders how the radio series must have felt for folks back then. Honestly this is an okay way to end the series. It lacks a a proper climax, and it seems a bit familiar, but it maintains the consistency that this series has had without being a putrid way to close out what generally worked best in those little moments (i.e. like the ones I mentioned earlier). 72 minutes isn't too much to ask with a familiar group of actors fit for a familiar style of movie. Rathbone and Bruce play their parts with what is needed in the textbook style of detectives that are definitive without looking stiffly bored in the proceedings, no matter if you've watched one or all of these before seeing this. Morison leads the group of adversaries with worthy energy that makes a capable threat to match the heroes without looking like a copy of the folks from before, able to match in diverting energy, and this works best in a scene paired with Breon, in which they share a few lines with each other that ends with a quality ambush. Worlock plays the other part of the threat just fine (this was his fifth appearance in the series) while Harbord plays things with stock calmness of a character that actually had appeared in a few of the original stories (in this series, it is Lestrade that got the attention with six appearances). At any rate, there is a general causal quality that Neill has honed without trouble. This was the penultimate film he directed (Black Angel came out just two months after this film), as he died later that year at the age of 59, having directed over a hundred movies. If you've seen one, you've nearly seen all the other films, but Dressed to Kill maintains itself to serve as the logical conclusion to a series that more often than not generated useful mystery and workable performances to make it worthy enough for those who are curious for what it managed to do in the span of seven years and fourteen films.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

MacGruber.

Review #1680: MacGruber.

Cast: 

Will Forte (MacGruber), Kristen Wiig (Vicki Gloria St. Elmo), Ryan Phillippe (Lieutenant Dixon Piper), Val Kilmer (Dieter Von Cunth), Maya Rudolph (Casey Janine Fitzpatrick), Powers Boothe (Colonel Jim Faith), Timothy V. Murphy (Constantine Bach), Chris Jericho (Frank Korver), and Montel Vontavious Porter (Vernon Freedom) Directed by Jorma Taccone.

Review: 

"What you see with this movie is exactly what we wanted to do. It's the three of us having a bunch of fun writing it, then having fun making it with a bunch of our friends—old friends and new friends. I think that fun comes across when you watch it. It's rare that you get that kind of creative freedom."

I suppose there really should be a line that prefaces any review of a movie based on a sketch from Saturday Night Live, because really there is one easy statement to make: the level of humor to expect from a film like this depends on just what era of the show you grew up watching (so if you stop watching and come back to it like five or ten years later, you get to say that it wasn't as funny as the era you grew up with). Technically this is a bit unfair, because I did like The Blues Brothers (1980) and the Wayne's World (1992-93) movies. But one probably wouldn't be surprised to see that this was the first one of these SNL films to be released in theaters since The Ladies Man (2000) and it is currently the last one, although it is only now that the idea to develop MacGruber into television is happening. But you probably need some detail before we get into the quality of the movie, so what is exactly MacGruber? Well, believe it or not, I do remember this series of sketches, because even ten year old kids like me need something to do on Saturday nights. The series of sketches ran on-and-off for three years as a parody of the television series MacGyver (1985-1992), where the parody character (after a song extolling the talents of said character that can get stuck in your head) would try to escape a dangerous situation with little time remaining in a control room with some sort of random material while he is plagued by some sort of internal issue (such as say...growing bald or his grandmother) before the bomb explodes. The star of the actual show (Richard Dean Anderson) even made an appearance, for which child-me would have been pretty surprised by (insert reference to Stargate SG1 here). For what its worth, the only other recurring short I remember from the time was something involving cats with lasers, so one wonders where the time has gone. At any rate, the idea for MacGruber came from Jorma Taccone, who had joined SNL in 2005 that was known for his work in the comedy troupe The Lonely Island, which would create numerous digital shorts for the series until 2014 (the next film that Taccone would direct featured the troupe with Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping in 2016). He pitched the original idea to Forte and John Solomon for a month before finally convincing them to conceive a series of brief films (as opposed to one sketch). SNL creator Lorne Michaels eventually suggested that they should develop a script for a film (if one can do a commercial with Pepsi and make it stick, truly a movie isn't too far off). Taccone, Solomon, and Forte would set out to make a movie that looked like an action movie (in the vein of stuff like Die Hard and First Blood) while honing to a cheap budget ($10 million, with less than 1/50th of it being used for special effects) while shooting it in the course of a month.

So yes, one can credit the filmmakers for having the freedom to do what they wanted with a comic relief lead that has to balance the line between insanely flawed and likeable enough to see all the way through for 91 minutes. The film was a flop, but it has certainly developed a small cult following in the decade since its release (one notable fan: Christopher Nolan). Take this anyway you wish: It might be the Freddy Got Fingered of its decade, where it just isn't my kind of thing, but I can at least understand the appeal for it despite finding it below quality. In other words, you can misunderstand all you want, but it can't hide the fact that it isn't even as clever in trying to have fun with the action genre as Last Action Hero (1993). Honestly, there isn't anything here that is remotely interesting when it comes to its supposed unpredictability or its attempts at balancing strait-laced folks like Kilmer and Boothe (the highlights of the movie) with the wackos in Forte and Wiig that seems more useful in less does on television. I think it is the brief time one spent with the sketches that made them more effective than what happens when you try to extend something that should have stayed at a minute. But hey, someone might think of it as akin to those parody movies like Airplane! (1980), or maybe an offshoot of other attempts at making fun of action movies like Hot Shots! Part Deux (1993, which I should probably re-watch at some point), or maybe even Big Trouble in Little China (1986), although I should mention that each actually have a real third act. Or maybe it will touch those who are familiar with an insecure lead in action with Archer, although that is funny for its own reasons. For me, the main joke doesn't stick at any point long enough to keep my interest, one that drags itself in the guise of edge with the depth of a shallow pool. One knows Forte can be funny, because one doesn't stay on a series for a decade without having some staying power, but here it just seems like a fun time for Forte and little else for those who think the character needs to take a trip to the trimmers. One can only tolerate insecurity for so long before a stick of celery gets involved, so this little game of buildup and humiliation rides on the viewer's patience for it. Wiig is used for a bit of singing and doing disguises that has the energy of a hit-or-miss gag, which is up to your preferences (meh is the only word I can find). Phillippe plays the straight man to this trio, one that has to put some sort of gravitas to the stuff around him, which hits with the power of a defective broomstick. It is Kilmer that actually shines over these folks, mostly because his dry delivery seems more prescient for what one could see in an overblown action movie in actually seeming funny for what is needed that might have deserved even more time on screen. Boothe plays it as one might see in a cheap 80s movie, which is collected but worth your time. There is a group of wrestlers used for a cameo that goes exactly the way you might see coming a minute before it happens in the gag, which is rather disappointing. Look, if you find it to be a funny movie, all power to you. But it begs for a polish in its lead presence, racked with gags that are very hit or miss that makes it quite niche and cliché at the same time. The only thing that offends me more is something unbearably bland, one that is only for a particular audience that probably likes some of the stuff I prefer when it comes to jokes that land that clearly could have been said in less than a thousand words that could have been said in seven: It just isn't my kind of comedy.

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

The Ship of Monsters.

Review #1679: The Ship of Monsters [La nave de los monstruos].

Cast: 

Eulalio González (Lauriano Treviño Gómez), Ana Bertha Lepe (Gamma), Lorena Velázquez (Beta), Consuelo Frank (Regente de Venus), Manuel Alvarado (Ruperto), Heberto Dávila, Jr. (Chuy Treviño Gómez), Mario García (Borracho), and José Pardavé (Atenógenes) Directed by Rogelio A. González.

Review: 

Admittedly, one can only see enough sci-fi horror films before they decide to inject a little bit of flavor into their time to spend watching the screen. So why not a Spanish-language sci-fi horror movie that has a singing cowboy? How about a movie that seems to practically revel in showing its production values (such as the strings or a cow skeleton with wires to spare) to a curious audience that will find plenty to see in terms of surprises? One shouldn't think of this as the work of an Ed Wood imitator however, since Rogelio A. Gonzalez was a career director that found countless work in seventy movies over the course of three decades. Sure, the movie may not make too much sense if one even thinks about it for two minutes, but there is something quite special in seeing this weird little movie come alive with frenzied energy that never looks like a dull affair. At the helm for its cast is two beauty pageant models-turned actresses and a comic known by the nickname of "Piporro" that was part of the Golden Age of Mexican cinema. In other words, there is a little bit of everything present to try and appeal to the audiences at heart, which is comprised of: feminine kidnappers from Venus in a bout of curiosity, stock footage for space shots, moments of singing to appeal to...singers of whimsy, robots that looks like they were made from the scrap heap to appeal to the kids, alien creatures that range from big brains to mere bones...so yeah. This was written by Alfredo Varela Jr based on a story by José María Fernández Unsáin. It has a mindset that could be thought of as a comic book laced with junk food, but I can say this much: I really dig it. There is something quite breathtaking about its mindset that makes for a steady balance of laughter that isn't completely just targeted at making fun of the proceedings. One never takes it seriously, but it keeps your interest without leaving one insulted. Pointing out the weird stuff is the fun, which is probably what one could say for a film like Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959), albeit without so much "it's so bad it's good" involved.

At any rate, talking about the acting won't take too much time, because really one could pretend they are doing improvisational comedy with kidnappers on a big box set and likely match the actors. Actually, they are kind of funny, mostly because Gonzalez does generate interest in the wisecracks that come from balancing tall tales and goofy heroics. The hint of a wink to the camera seems present, but it isn't something that chortles the need to groan either; a gallant man can go far if the audience doesn't try to fiddle with their devices. Lepe provides some grace to the proceedings, with at least some sort of chemistry to share with Gonzalez. Velazquez gets to play the other side of the fiddle in terms of a silly adversary, because one cannot truly appreciate the rabid beauty over jealousy and wrath (at least if you want to be technical along with dry) without realizing that she is actually playing a vampire. Yep, did I mention the vampire? One just has to stand there with a hint of wrath and let the big effects monsters help do one's work as a double team. Keep in mind, it is amusing enough that this only started because someone couldn't handle the standards of love between the planets. By the time Gonzalez and Velazquez reunite for a brief number that involves a definition of love that will surely work for that moment in time, you probably won't consider much of the adversary when she ends her time by falling into a spike. Nobody else really makes much of an impression, probably because the only notable scenes that involve anybody besides the main three are either with a robot, in a bar full of folks laughing at our hero, or involving a kid that does the bare minimum. The fun is what you see in the contents of amusement that leave you on your feet in terms of unpredictability and perhaps amazement. 81 minutes is just enough to deserve a welcome look for anybody in the mood for something quirky and serviceable (preferably with subtitles, but one wonders if it makes any difference in making sense anyway). It isn't exactly "so bad, it's good", but that is only because it feels too good to be bad.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Private Life of Henry VIII.

Review #1678: The Private Life of Henry VIII.

Cast: 

Charles Laughton (Henry VIII), Merle Oberon (Anne Boleyn), Wendy Barrie (Jane Seymour), Elsa Lanchester (Anne of Cleves), Binnie Barnes (Catherine Howard), Everley Gregg (Catherine Parr), Robert Donat (Thomas Culpeper), Franklin Dyall (Thomas Cromwell), Miles Mander (Wriothesley), Laurence Hanray (Archbishop Thomas Cranmer), William Austin (The Duke of Cleves), John Loder (Thomas Peynell), Lady Tree (The King's Nurse), John Turnbull (Hans Holbein), Frederick Culley (Duke of Norfolk), William Heughan (Kingston), and Judy Kelly (Lady Rochford) Produced and Directed by Alexander Korda.

Review: 

Alexander Korda was involved in the realm of film for over forty years of his life. In fact, he would get his brothers involved with the industry to work alongside him as well, with Zoltan becoming a director and Vincent serving as an art director (for which he would win an Academy Award, which fittingly came with The Thief of Bagdad in 1940). Born in Austria-Hungary, he had changed his name from Kellner and started work in the film industry during the start of the first World War; his first writing project with Watchhouse in the Carpathians (1914) also became his first time directing a film. Over the next five years, he would eventually turn to producing his films as well as directing, with the presence of Corvin Film behind him that resulted in highlights such as White Nights (1916) and Harrison and Barrison (1917, which Korda called his favorite of the period). Trouble in his native country caused him to leave and never return, and he would spend the next two years in Austria and the next four in Germany, with The Prince and the Pauper (1920) helping to spur Korda on to the idea of making films for an international audience (incidentally, that film also happened to have a portrayal of Henry VIII). In 1926, he moved to Hollywood and would spend the next five years there. Although he had a few highlights such as The Private Life of Helen of Troy (1927, a comic biopic) while doing well with silent and sound, he grew tired of the studio system; a move to Europe meant brief time spent in France before settling in England, where he created his own company with London Films in 1932. In total, Korda would film/produce in six different countries while directing until 1947 and producing until his death in 1956. With this film, Korda made his gamble in trying to make an elegant film that honed British but could still attract attention through international waters while featuring a man of the stage with Laughton, who had made his way into acting on the stage in 1926 before dabbling into acting two years later, and while this was only the second time he would appear in a historical role (he had played Emperor Nero the previous year), this was the movie that turned him into a star in a career that spanned numerous portrayals of historical figures that went from Rembrandt to William Kidd (incidentally, he would play Henry VIII two decades later with Young Bess).

It could be easy to say that there isn't exactly a great central structure to this film. Keep in mind, we have a movie that runs at 97 minutes that can only depict five of the six wives married by the King (the first one is called a "respectable lady" in the opening title-card). After all, the king had married six wives but married five them in a span of ten years (after his marriage to Catherine of Aragon lasted 24 years before being the first of three annulled marriages) that has been characterized as both the most important monarch in English history and also one wracked with ego that could be tender to women but prone to withdrawal once out of love. In other words, if one doesn't really consider all of the historical quibbles, one probably won't also think about it goes with a resourcefully cheap but ultimately curious little gem. If Laughton is the biggest gem of the movie, he certainly deserves the credit for making what could have been a mild affair and turns it into a useful venture full of bombast that never seems like a complete caricature or a rosy portrait. Instead, it is a poignant movie that aims well to international audiences (it was the first non-Hollywood nominee for Best Picture), and eight decades has not quite withered the high-spirited efforts from Korda and his crew, right down to Korda regulars Lajos Bíró and Arthur Wimperis delivering a serviceable script that keeps the tempo relatively sane, at least to what one needs from Vincent Korda and his set design that keeps things fairly level. Laughton has the confidence required of such a big role to go alongside gravitas to make it more than just an offbeat king with a habit for women and eating food whole. If he ended up forming the perception of what folks had of the king in the eyes of an audience member, then so be it, because it does have a flattering edge in playing to the audience that can end with a roar or a curious glance (as one supposes it isn't all fun and games in the life of a king that just wants love to last). Oberon (in one of her first key roles) doesn't have as much time to start the first of numerous stories with the wives of Henry, but she has a striking energy to her that makes what seems like a routine dead person walking roll fairly different. Barrie does fine with garnering the next story with what is needed without being coy. Lanchester would appear in a total of twelve movies with Laughton (the two after all were married until the latter's death in 1962), and she proves quite interesting here, garnering some curious moments that make a fanciful third story, complete with a card game scene with Laughton that is one of the highlight scenes. Donat had just entered film in the year before the release of this film within Korda productions (after entering stage in 1921), and he makes a useful supporting presence for what is needed in the key story between him and Barnes, who garners some worthy ambition into a decent spirited chemistry with Laughton, complete with her watching him wrestle in front of all. Gregg is the last key lady of the movie, and while the portrayal probably won't hone well to the spirit of the person portrayed (namely the idea of a henpecked king), she comes out with at least some sort of dignity (the last line that breaks the fourth wall after she leaves the screen is up to you). In general, it is Laughton that helps to shape a movie that would have likely gone near the deep end without a centralizing performance from a growing star, which means one gets a usefully diverting time that hits the mark in relative entertainment without sacrificing showmanship or dedication, which can be credited to Korda and Laughton, who each can credit this film as a time to shine for the right reasons.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Mark of Zorro (1920)

Review #1677: The Mark of Zorro.

Cast: 

Douglas Fairbanks (Don Diego Vega/Señor Zorro), Marguerite De La Motte (Lolita Pulido), Noah Beery (Sergeant Pedro Gonzales), Charles Hill Mailes (Don Carlos Pulido), Claire McDowell (Doña Catalina Pulido), Robert McKim (Captain Juan Ramon), George Periolat (Governor Alvarado), Walt Whitman (Father Felipe), Sidney De Gray (Don Alejandro Vega), and Tote Du Crow (Bernard) Directed by Fred Niblo.

Review: 

Admittedly, one could likely do no better in trying to find a more diverting time for the age of cinema than the 1920s. It has now been a century since that era, but one can still see the seams of its past now more than ever. Douglas Fairbanks proved to be one of the era's innovators and stars in that time, although he had an early start in the previous decade. The Denver native had begun acting from a young age, but his star started its rise after he had turned 30 with D. W. Griffith and Triangle Pictures in the mid-1910s, with his films generally falling as comedies (although there were occasions of his athleticism being shown); it was not long after that he soon formed his own production company to help produce and/or write movies as well. It would set the stage for a key moment in 1919 within the film industry when he joined together with Griffith and fellow stars Charlie Chaplin and Mary Pickford to form their own joint venture company in order to combat attempts to control contracts and work by exhibitors. The result was United Artists, and Fairbanks would star in the first film produced by UA with His Majesty, the American (1919). His next two films also fell into the realm of comedy, but he was soon inspired to make his biggest gamble yet - channeling his athleticism into a swashbuckling adventure role, and he co-wrote the scenario with Eugene Miller. Zorro was created in 1919 by pulp writer Johnston McCulley for the novel The Curse of Capistrano (which was serialized in All-Story Weekly). As it turned out, what was meant to be one tale only ended up being the first of a string of stories done by McCulley, which would be spurred on by the demand of the public because of the film, and he would do a variety of novels and short stories for four decades before his death in 1958 (he lived long enough to see Zorro on a new screen of media with the television series, famous in its own right despite its quick life). A semi-sequel followed this film in 1925 with Don Q, Son of Zorro, although that was re-tooled adaptation of a different work with Zorro, and several films have followed with the character since, such as the 1940 adaptation of the same name. The stories generally took place within pre-statehood California (Spain and Mexico each had control of the state in the late 18th century before 1848); supposedly, the exploits of Joaquin Murrieta (an outlaw in the time of the Gold Rush) proved an inspiration to McCulley, and it should only be fitting that Murrieta was thought of as akin to Robin Hood, since one could also make the connection for Zorro as well, but the double act of Zorro would prove an inspiration to Bob Kane in his collaboration with Bill Finger for the character of Batman in 1939. 

One shall not forget to mention its director with Fred Niblo, who managed to direct over forty films in the span of sixteen years. The Nebraska native started directing when he was 42 after having done years of vaudeville and theater. He would work with Fairbanks the following year with another swashbuckler in The Three Musketeers (1921), although it is his work with Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925) that is perhaps most memorable. At any rate, The Mark of Zorro proved to be the first of numerous movies for Fairbanks that fell into the historical action adventure genre, which would go all the way until The Iron Mask (1929). If Robin Hood (1922) is one of his grand highlights, one has to at least give credit to this film for being the first in its attempts at generating grand entertainment that will generally hit most of its marks in its own manner. For 90 minutes, it makes for an efficient magic trick that has the passion required in elevating a fight against oppression into a charmer that showcases Fairbanks playing a worthy balancing act. He gets to play the foppish mild-mannered nobleman that likely hones well to the comedy films he had done in the past, and he does pretty good with that in mind, silly but never too out of depth for when it comes time for the main man to show up. When playing as Zorro, he proves adept at playing to the action required while proving a capable hero without bloat - the stunt action looks real without making a mockery of what one likes to appreciate about the fine art of dashing through folks that makes it almost seem like a game without forgetting about the key focus of adventure in freedom. Truly he had a comfortability to handling the costuming and sets that overrides any fear of hammy acting. De La Motte was still fairly fresh in acting, having made her debut in support with Arizona (1918), which had Fairbanks as the lead. She does fine, playing well to having to balance interest and passivity when with Fairbanks that results in a few curious moments. There is a trio of adversaries with Beery, Periolat, and McKim. Berry (older brother of Wallace and son of Noah Beery Jr, who each also became actors) is probably the most memorable, one that plays the fool at times to Fairbanks that does his best with a swordfight that has him get marked in a friendly placed with the trademark from Zorro. The others do well, reasonably seeming fierce while making their mark on action scenes seem useful. Having fun in the hay while running from folks never seemed so freshly interesting, when you think about it. No matter how many Zorro films you have seen, there is still something to behold about the spectacle generated from this movie. While it isn't a greatly consistent story, it certainly still stands as an early winner for the decade and for what was to come in the action adventure genre, where the spectacle and costumes could only go in varying directions from there, for which Fairbanks and Niblo would be key contributors.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Major League: Back to the Minors.

Review #1676: Major League: Back to the Minors.

Cast: 

Scott Bakula (Gus Cantrell), Corbin Bernsen (Roger Dorn), Dennis Haysbert (Pedro Cerrano), Takaaki Ishibashi (Taka Tanaka), Jensen Daggett (Maggie Reynolds), Eric Bruskotter (Rube Baker), Walton Goggins (Billy "Downtown" Anderson), Ted McGinley (Leonard Huff), Kenny Johnson (Lance "The Dance" Pere), Judson Mills (Hog Ellis), Lobo Sebastian (Carlos Liston), Thom Barry (Frank "Pops" Morgan), Peter Mackenzie (Carlton "Doc" Windgate), Tim and Tom DeFilippo (Juan Lopez), and Bob Uecker (Harry Doyle) Directed and Written by John Warren.

Review: 

You can tell there is probably a bit of laziness with the filmmaking with one little shot about 25 minutes before the end, where you can see the scoreboard that signifies the runs and hits in the wrong place (runs are listed in the inning portion for one team while the runs column says the game is 0-0); this also happens in the baseball game in the climax, where it lists a score of 4-2 but has two runs listed in the seventh and one in the eighth for the home team (which happens right before one sees the third run scored). Watching high school baseball a long time ago makes one appreciate the fine art of having a scoreboard operate correctly. Anyway, here is the third and final installment of the Major League films. Imagine thinking that the best things to follow up a foul-mouthed classic is two movies that all people of age would groan away at. If you didn't know already, David S. Ward (who had lived in a Cleveland suburb growing up) wanted to make a movie where he could see his beloved Cleveland Indians win (and with that in mind, he felt it would only happen in a comedy). The result was Major League (1989, #426) - a riveting classic, one that I revere as the perennial baseball movie that had a collection of name actors to go with soon-to-be familiar presences in an enjoyably predictable and raunchy time. It is actually one of the few movies I try to watch every year, preferably as baseball season is starting. The sequel (1994, #444), released five years later by Ward, was not quite as successful, likely owing to middling returns of humor that for some reason was done for a PG-audience. The co-producer of that film in James Robinson returns to produce this film, but this time around the attempts at humor try to reach a PG-13 level (Ward, who had no involvement in this movie, disowned it while trying to shuttle hopes for a true third movie, which has not gone anywhere). It is perhaps a bit baffling to see that the team of focus besides the minor leagues is the Minnesota Twins.. Welp, perhaps the state of Minnesota was more accommodating to the production or something, but I can technically say that I do think of pity when I think of sports in the state (on that matter, go Vikings), so I guess that works out, and Little Big League (1994) featured them while a child became their new owner, so technically this is a step up. This makes this the only Major League movie to actually use the right filming location for its intended team, since Milwaukee County Stadium and Oriole Park at Camden Yards doubled for Cleveland for the first and second film, respectively; one is curious about that air-supported roof of the Metrodome and its unique right-field wall that I kid you not was called "The Baggie" (besides, I cannot fault its Astroturf setup because the Astrodome would be one of the first places I could visit if I had to visit Houston). Besides, the movie can't even get the minor league aspect correctly, since the "Buzz" were actually the minor league team of the Twins...who played in Salt Lake City, not South Carolina (I suppose filming in the high elevation would have been quite a difference in contrast). I will admit that despite being a baseball nut, I really don't have many minor league team names on hand to note, except for one - my region had an independent baseball team named the Whitewings for over a decade, and my parents took me to a game when I was a young boy that resulted in a baseball I still have in my house.

I wonder if the film would have been an even bigger failure if it didn't have "Major League" slapped on (such as calling the movie Minor League). This was the work of writer/director John Warren, who apparently would not direct or write any more movies after this (the only other directing credit was for The Curse of Inferno, released in 1997). Keep in mind, nothing makes much sense in this movie. Beyond the collection of misfits that range from a ballerina-turned third baseman to a catcher that has to be told he stinks in order to be any good...a major league team plays a series of exhibition games with its minor league affiliate. Honestly, how does that work? Do the players in this mythical series get paid extra, or is it all just on the whim of their nut owner (who if you've seen these movies has somehow managed to purchase a baseball team on two separate occasions)? Is this really going to help inspire the major league team if they are playing against guys who could presumably replace them? Just how long is the major league manager for the Twins going to last at the position if he can't even beat the minor league team, especially when he apparently can just call the electricity man at the Metrodome and turn off the power in the span of a pitch being thrown? Then again, in this movie players will just come out if you call out to the sky and say you need a player right before you take a ball to the head. Five folks from the first two films return here through means that I can't really explain very well, because you have one guy who is managing a putt-putt course and a major-turned-minor league announcer. Maybe this was actually supposed to be thought of for television, because the levels of humor certainly feel that way, and it only seems to serve as the further de-evolution of a series that should have stopped when it was ahead. This isn't to say that the first movie is perfect (because it really isn't), but there is something about how it handled the clichés when it comes to the sports movie and made it a warm story that was never too crude or syrupy with characters and lines that actually could stick with you. Yes, seeing the Indians win is the end note, but it is the journey to get around with in the various little stories that encompass it that make it mean something; strangely enough, this statement might also apply in some way to another movie that received sequels with Slap Shot (1977). In short: there is no real heart to the movie. It has essentially turned into a product, one that groans and heaves towards trying to mine moments that are used for obvious gags or to remind you of something from before.

It is weird to see Bakula in this film, honestly. This isn't because of some sort of animosity towards him, because his star role in Quantum Leap (1989-1993) is a favorite of mine, but it is because half the time he really looks lost here (that, and one wonders if an imaginary friend will start to show up - incidentally, the second episode of that aforementioned show featured him playing a baseball player on the skids). Besides, the attempts to move along with the player-turned-manager plot in ways different from what one saw in the second movie might have felt more interesting with Tom Berenger. Bakula here just seems too reserved to really stick as a lead trying to shepherd this ensemble into anything. Bernsen probably has even less to do this time around when it comes to generating humor that sticks beyond sitcom stuff. Haysbert is playing for the laugh track like everyone else, and it proves just as disappointing as was the case last time, complete with him even putting a hood over his head as practice. Ishibashi is used here and there for silly gags that involve him stating dialogue that will either be translated to English, Japanese, or snarky guesses at what he is saying - the result is a performance blander than his appearance in the second one. Daggett has barely anything to do as a whole, with snippets providing no spark between her and Bakula through fault of the script and not her. Bruskotter probably play acts baseball better than he does with acting for laughs, which is technically an accomplishment. Goggins (in one of his first film roles before hitting it big with television in the 2000s) moves through the drawl of attempting confidence that sometimes can seem like a refreshing presence for a movie in need of one, but the traps of the story means that there isn't much tension to really draw interest. You might think that Bakula is the only television favorite to experience this weird feeling, but then one recognizes McGinley from Married...with Children (he also appeared in other shows, but we both know where favorites reside) shows up from time to time as the adversarial manager. He reflects the sitcom-level of filmmaking that happens here, for better or worse. The movie can't be taken seriously for a variety of reasons, but one can at least think that McGinley is at least trying to have some sort of fun with it, regardless of how goofy he seems, particularly since he is always shown with lush hair and no hat (this obviously gets used for a gag near the end, where he shakes his hair to prove it is real). Johnson and the others collect into obvious gags and quiet failure that play for the laugh track and nothing better. 100 minutes can not pass by soon enough when it comes to a limp movie filled with the bare minimum in meaningful baseball and even less in meaningful heart that prove that some movie ideas should just stay as ideas.

Overall, I give it 4 out of 10 stars.

Airport 1975.

Review #1675: Airport 1975.

Cast: 

Charlton Heston (Captain Alan Murdock), Karen Black (Chief-Stewardess Nancy Pryor), George Kennedy (Joe Patroni), Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (Captain Stacy), Gloria Swanson (Herself), Susan Clark (Helen Patroni), Helen Reddy (Sister Ruth), Linda Blair (Janice Abbott), Dana Andrews (Scott Freeman), Myrna Loy (Mrs. Devaney), Sid Caesar (Barney), Roy Thinnes (First Officer Urias), Ed Nelson (Maj. Alexander), Nancy Olson (Mrs. Abbott), Larry Storch (Glenn Purcell), Martha Scott (Sister Beatrice), Norman Fell (Bill), Jerry Stiller (Sam), and Conrad Janis (Arnie) Directed by Jack Smight.

Review: 

There are quite a few times that you see a sequel to a movie and wonder why there was a second one to begin with. Unfortunately, you know, and I know, the reason that there exists a sequel like Airport 1975 (1974): money. People really couldn't get enough of big stars to go with airplanes in trouble, complete with a title that I suppose was made to sound like it came from the future. It appears that the budget was reduced in the four years since the last film in 1970 (from ten to three million), but this one also managed to make over $100 million, and one can only wonder how rentals would go for this fellow turkey. To be fair, one probably can't blame Jack Smight for his direction here. He did his work in both television and film (starting with the former since its golden age in the 1950s), and this was the eleventh of seventeen films that he would direct from 1964 to 1989, with Harper (1966) generally being the one that stands out among his work. I'm sure you might remember Airplane! (1980) when it comes to its take on the disaster genre...and those little gags that might seem familiar to those who have seen both films, what with a kid that is awaiting a transplant as soon as they make an airplane trip (complete with a doctor calling beforehand to make sure they aren't startled), and a singing nun that plays to the kid. Now, technically Reddy was qualified to sing, because she was actually a singer (with one newspaper outlet describing her as the "Queen of '70s Pop", after all)...so keep that in mind in trying to figure out which one is a parody. That 1980 film also had Ethel Merman in a cameo appearance, while this feature has Gloria Swanson playing herself (if you really want to stretch this around into an oblong circle, Linda Harrison accompanies her...while using a second name as "Augusta Summerland"...yes). I am not playing you for a bit, because Airport 1975 actually features Dana Andrews in a brief appearance, and Andrews had starred in Zero Hour! (1957), which Arthur Hailey had adapted from his teleplay a few years prior while eventually writing the novel Airport...and Airplane! would lift lines from said movie. At least one will get to see the pair of Heston and Kennedy again, because they had co-starred in another disaster film with Earthquake (1974), which was also done by Universal Studios.

So yes, there are a few strange folks present here, whether that means a trio of odd drunks overshadowed by Myrna Loy playing a more eccentric drunk...or Swanson, who had apparently wrote all of her lines. Strangely enough, this may actually be better than the original film, mostly because of one thing: it manages to be so cheesy that it nearly defies reason. It is so self-serious at the weirdest times that one wonders how exactly this was the only film credit for screenplay man Don Ingalls, who specialized in television from Have Gun - Will Travel to Fantasy Island. It sometimes feel like a script that mutated from the bins of television hokum and engulfed any famous person they could find, who I hope managed to enjoy the monetary benefits of this sham spectacle. Heston is technically the star, in that he gets to ham the screen up from moment to moment while doing the bare minimum in charisma and minimal plane involvement. One wonders if he was worn out from the aforementioned film about the earthquake. Kennedy blusters through some shouting in a performance that is probably degraded from what one saw in the first film, although it can be said that in the earlier movie he was more of a helpful highlight (since if you remember, the airplane trouble was somewhere sidelined behind lots of gobbledygook about affairs and the airplane industry). Ah, but the real presence is Black, making her shift into commercial work after a string of noted supporting roles. While it isn't a great performance by any means, I'm sure I wouldn't fare much better at fumbling with the controls and not collapsing into panic with trying to fly a plane over mountains (the attempts at chemistry with Heston is a different story), although older fans might recognize that this isn't the first movie where a flight attendant is shown taking a plane to safety (Julie (1956) starred Doris Day in a noir, of all things). Zimbalist plays the unfortunate pilot that gets to spend half his time on a couch with his eyes closed to makeup, so there is that. Swanson, making her final film appearance before her death in 1983, certainly had to have a fine time here, since I imagine a role spent mostly in a chair talking about oneself would make anyone proud. It isn't exactly a parody of herself, but one can still keep their eyes open to wonder how this "interesting" pairing of famed star to alleged disaster movie came to be. Others have the energy of a broomstick when it comes to really sticking out, most notably with a bored-looking Andrews, or a bedridden Blair, or an oddly complacent Caesar to go with Storch (who might as well have been chosen out of a hat), and it is Loy who really seems to stand out best when it comes to pairing eccentricity to the level of cheese needed. At least there is some sort of inherent danger present here, since the chances of even one important character biting the dust is at 1% rather than the level done from the first film, although it hasn't meant the movie has increased its levels of thrill from before. One wonders exactly how the other two Airport movies turn out in raising (or keeping) the standards of disaster movie excitement, really. Airport 1975 (1974) isn't really an accomplishment in anything, but technically being better than its predecessor in being less boring has to account for something. If one desires a movie packed with ridicule and name actors, one might not go wrong here.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Machine-Gun Kelly.

Review #1674: Machine-Gun Kelly.

Cast: 

Charles Bronson (George R. 'Machine Gun' Kelly), Susan Cabot (Florence 'Flo' Becker), Morey Amsterdam (Michael Fandango), Richard Devon (Apple), Jack Lambert (Howard), Frank DeKova (Harry), Connie Gilchrist ('Ma' Becker), Wally Campo (Maize), Barboura Morris (Lynn Grayson), Lori Martin (Sherryl Vito), George Archambeault (Frank), Robert Griffin (Mr. Andrew Vito), Michael Fox (Detective Clinton), and Larry Thor (Detective Drummond) Directed by Roger Corman (#368 - The Little Shop of Horrors, #684 - It Conquered the World, #852 - The Terror, #931 - Not of This Earth, #1007 - Attack of the Crab Monsters, #1039 - Five Guns West, #1042 - War of the Satellites, #1136 - Gas-s-s-s, #1147 - X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes, #1186 - A Bucket of Blood, #1423 - The Wild Angels, and #1425 - The St. Valentine's Day Massacre)

Review: 

Admittedly, one really has to spread out the time spent in what I would like to call the AIP Zone. The hundreds of films that came from the studio of American International Pictures in that nifty little era it encapsulated could make for quite a few interesting marathons, and it only makes sense to encounter Roger Corman yet again. By this point in time, Corman had directed over a dozen films in the span of three years, and he did so in a variety of genres that ranged from westerns to science fiction, although he would dabble in the field of crime films and noirs (Rock All Night (1957) is one of Corman's favorites). Well, there is that other distinction to note for this movie in seeing Charles Bronson in a leading role. The Pennsylvania native (who changed his name from Buchinsky on advice that his name might affect his career) had started appearing in films and television early in the decade that eventually grew into supporting roles of note with Apache (1954). The same year that he would star in this film also saw him with a lead role on television in Man with a Camera, which ran for two years on ABC; at any rate, he would move on from middling support roles to leading support acting (incidentally, this would not be the only film Bronson did for AIP, as he would co-star in Master of the World three years later). Interestingly enough, the role was actually not initially viewed with him in mind, as Dick Miller at one point was announced as the star. Robert Wright Campbell served as the writer for the script, and this was the second of six movie scripts that he would do for a Roger Corman film.

You may or may not recognize that this is loosely based on the exploits of the criminal of the same name (a nickname given to him by his second wife, Kathryn, who had bought him the weapon), one of the numerous criminals that was referred as a public enemy to justice (alongside others of the 1930s, for which filmmakers would cover in cinema, and AIP released this film as a double feature with The Bonnie Parker Story), although his crimes dealt with bootlegging and robbery. His infamous moment occurred when he had kidnapped tycoon Charles Urschel for ransom in July 1933 (keep in mind, kidnapping became a federal offense in this year); when you think about it, the real story behind the capture is interesting, because Urschel actually played a key part in the capture of the suspects by noting the evidence around him (namely the sounds that he could hear when blindfolded and held captive for nine days). Two months after the kidnapping, Kelly alongside his wife and others were arrested, and the myth is that he apparently had surrendered to FBI agents - obviously, the mythmakers had to stretch the report of Kelly just raising his hands in the corner and saying nothing. At any rate, I doubt that the real Kelly (who died after serving 21 years in prison, for which he was teased by some as "Pop Gun Kelly" because of the stories he told) was afraid of death like the person depicted in this film, and yet here we are with a fairly interesting movie. It probably isn't a great historically toned film, and it definitely is a pretty cheap movie (made for about $60,000 in ten days), but there is an interesting quality to its efficient pace that works far better than it should. Corman wanted to make a movie about a criminal that was "just a coward and a giver", one that didn't hone to the Robin Hood mold that he felt gangster films usually went to. In other words, we have a movie about a criminal couple that has a considerable difference of power that one would be surprised to see from its time - a robber that might brandish a big weapon but is a meek man defined by the person behind him. It doesn't exactly raise any new heights to the gangster genre, but there is something affable about its grip in tension when it comes to the dynamic between Bronson and Cabot in the drive for the elusive "more". Bronson would find his mark with steely roles in later years, but there is something curious about what he manages to do when it comes to making Kelly out into a somewhat complicated being. That isn't to say that he is turned into a man of sympathy, but there is something here that seems raw and relevant in the way one would see a junkyard dog on and off its leash (the pace of violence isn't too gratuitous either, which actually matches up with its title character well - aside from the moments where there's a tiger present to spook up folks scared of big cats with teeth). Cabot called this film the most satisfactory of the six that she made with Corman, and it isn't hard to see why. She does quite well here, devastating in her zeal when it comes to maneuvering the machinations that come from acting as part of the one-two punch when it comes to wheeling and dealing. In other words, she doesn't become or chew the scenery to the detriment of the film (which can happen in weaker films that only have one thing in mind). She compliments the criminal aspect of this tandem with a show of composure that plays on instinct when it comes to impulse. The movie relies on these two playing that dynamic for 80 minutes that generally works out; that isn't to say the other actors aren't anything special, but I think you know what I mean when it comes to a weary man if his weapon is missing (besides, hearing about a guy losing his arm to a tiger is probably more memorable than a kid being a hostage). The fear of death isn't exactly something that one can make fun of in any case, especially when one thinks of the choices made to get where they are in that moment, which could happen to you just as much as what happens here. As a whole, while it certainly plays fast and loose with facts, the fact that it tries to play around with the idea of not needing a blaze of glory moment combined with Bronson and Cabot make for a far more interesting movie than what it could have been. It moves with the shadows for clean-cut pulp that certainly can make for quite a guilty pleasure. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.