Cowboy Bebop: The Movie.

Review #1892: Cowboy Bebop: The Movie.

Cast: 

Kōichi Yamadera (Spike Spiegel), Unshō Ishizuka (Jet Black), Megumi Hayashibara (Faye Valentine), Aoi Tada (Edward Wong), Tsutomu Isobe (Vincent Volaju), Ai Kobayashi (Elektra Ovilo), Mickey Curtis (Rashid), and Yūji Ueda (Lee Sampson) Directed by Shinichirō Watanabe. 

Review: 

"If you want to create animation, it's important to watch a lot of things that aren't anime. If you don't, it'll all be the same as what became before and originality won't be easy. Originality is very important, and I get a lot of my inspiration from live action movies and music." - Shinichirō Watanabe

Oh hell yes, I was anticipating doing this film. You may or may not recognize Cowboy Bebop within the history of anime, but I will admit that this was my first foray into anime beyond seeing a bunch of anime films (now, the second attempt at watching anime series in Neon Genesis Evangelion and its own feature...that will be for another time). The series was created by the production team at Sunrise: director Shinichirō Watanabe, screenwriter Keiko Nobumoto, character designer Toshihiro Kawamoto, mechanical designer Kimitoshi Yamane, and composer Yoko Kanno. Billed as "a new genre unto itself", Watanabe got his start in the industry in the mid 1980s that went from production staff to director in a number of years, starting with Macross Plus in 1994. With this being his first solo effort, he treated each episode as if it was like a mini-movie, complete with having the ending of the 26-episode series early on; the show actually first started with Bandai offering to sponsor a show as long as it had a spaceship so they could sell it, but their disapproval of early footage led to limbo before Bandai Visual became the new sponsor. The series aired in an irregular way: It first aired on April 3, 1998 but with a first run of only five episodes due to its 6PM timeslot on its network in Japan. Then, on a satellite network, the entire run of 26 episodes (referred as "sessions") ran from October 24 to April 24, 1999 on the satellite network Wowow. Two years later, it aired in the United States on Adult Swim (the late-night block for Cartoon Network started in 2001). In addition to anime, two manga works were released for serialization in Asuka Fantasy DX; Shooting Star ran had a brief run from 1997 to 1998 while the second one ran from 1998 to 2000. Nobumoto, who had served as the writer for numerous episodes of the series (sessions 1, 3, 6, 12, 13, 15, 22, 23, 25, and 26), wrote the film, which was announced in September 1999 that started production in July of 2000. The show did have a clear end point, because Watanabe, convinced it would be a hit, didn't want to it to be something that would possibly tie him to making the show for years and years like Star Trek, but a film was constructed that is set in-between the series that retained the core four voice actors of the series with Yamadera, Ishizuka, Hayashibara, and Tada (I would mention the English dub and the fact that it retained the same four used for the show, but loose purists like me stick with the original actors to begin with, but your milage may vary. There also is a remake that came out years later, but this is no time for fairy tales).

I love the show, let me get that out of the way. The blend of numerous genres such as the Western or pulp fiction made for one of the most fascinating things I have ever seen, one that started and ended with a bang in ways that made it a great decision to see all the way through. Style over substance? Well...duh? The film (referred to with the subtitle "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" in Japan as opposed to just "The Movie") is definitely more rewarding for those who have seen the show than someone going in fresh (one that is quite episodic but worth the ride), but I think it works exactly to what made the show so great in the first place. It is a vibrant movie that cultivates a web of conspiracy into general thrills and warmth that comes from watching these sublime characters and voices come together with nice visuals and a general atmosphere that stands apart from the usual number of animated films. You can see the main four in simple terms in how they proved so endearing: the calm and collected ass-kicker, the jack-of-all-trade father figure, the conniving tease with unpredictability, and the energetic free spirit. The dysfunctional family of bounty hunters is endearing to those who enjoy these folks and the banter they share, regardless of whatever presence lurks (in this case, a villain with some sort of meaning not usually seen in the series). 

Consider the opening sequence with Yamadera and Ishizuka being involved in stopping a robbery (bounty job that is four targets rather than three) that lasts just four minutes but tells all you need to know (or already know) about these two characters with the right touch of action and charm. The touches of noir are present here with aesthetic that involves Arabic elements (namely because there's a place in the film seen to help tell certain elements of the story). 115 minutes is a considerable amount to ask, but it does do a careful job in cracking its own story down to the eventual endgame while still having time for engaging character moments that come across here within the question that comes in if one is living in the real world. Isobe may not be the most conniving threat seen in this particular anime lore, but he does resonate well in making a quality match with invoking the futility of trying to run from the fear of death. Kobayashi acts as the diminished mirror of him in terms of humanity (i.e. being a one-time ally for us to watch in the same way you would see from other one-time characters seen in the anime). Yamadera and his self-assured confidence carries the film quite well as a look upon people trying to circle away from their past but never quite escaping it - an antihero if there ever was one, but a quality antihero worth watching. Given that the film splits its time with the characters usually apart, Hayashibara fares pretty well in managing the enigmas present in the character and the plot without being lost in it. It is fairly inevitable where the film will go at some point, but it is the ride that matters most in getting there, and it is a generally involving one that doesn't meander or talk down to its audience, instead letting things breathe before getting back on the trail. As a whole, it proves rewarding for fans of the anime and diverting for newcomers, which is probably the best of both worlds when it comes to its enduring legacy after two decades. Generous or not (because hey, this is my rating system), I thought it was a pretty fun feature and one that should be worth one's time to see.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

This closes out September. Be ready for a whole month of horror movies, as you would expect. There will be a variety of decades covered in horror, but a special twist will start out the month.

Spectre.

Review #1891: Spectre.

Cast: 

Daniel Craig (James Bond), Christoph Waltz (Ernst Stavro Blofeld), Léa Seydoux (Madeleine Swann), Ben Whishaw (Q), Naomie Harris (Eve Moneypenny), Dave Bautista (Mr Hinx), Andrew Scott (Max Denbigh [C]), Rory Kinnear (Bill Tanner), Jesper Christensen (Mr White), Monica Bellucci (Lucia Sciarra), Ralph Fiennes (M), Stephanie Sigman (Estrella), and Alessandro Cremona (Marco Sciarra) Directed by Sam Mendes (#572 - Skyfall and #1585 - 1917)

Review: 

Go figure that this ended up being split into multiple paragraphs. Actually, this is the first Bond film I saw after deciding to start getting into the James Bond novels, you know, the ones that inspired the movies. So yes, Casino Royale was a pretty neat book, and I am curious for the other books done by Fleming and maybe I will look at the movies a bit differently by the time I finish them.

It is interesting to consider how people try to spin the wheel of continuing the James Bond franchise (as produced by Eon Productions) into another decade. The Daniel Craig era started in 2006 with Casino Royale, probably the best Bond film since either Goldeneye (1995) or Licence to Kill (1989), depending on your tastes. It did so with its attempt to inject a bit grittier realism into the series while keeping the entertainment level high. One never knows what to expect from a series created out of a character intended to be boring, as devised by Ian Fleming. Quantum of Solace (2008) was so much of a nonentity that I can barely remember watching it, but Skyfall (2012) certainly resounded better for all of its strange little quirks that came with attempts at emotional depth. The beauty of covering a film I took a pass on doing because it seemed too mild to watch in a theater seven years ago is that there isn't exactly much to spoil for those who do films. Of course, if you like surprises, go ahead with whatever you want to do. Besides, the Bond series would continue with Craig for No Time to Die (2021) after a number of years in development that retained certain actors from before. 

There were four writers: John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, and Jez Butterworth. Mendes and Logan apparently came up with the main concept of the plot together before lingering dissatisfaction in script from key groups led to asking Purvis and Wade to step in for re-writes (Butterworth ended up stepping in for the screenplay), and you may remember that Logan & Purvis had served as writer on these films since The World Is Not Enough while Logan helped to write Skyfall. So, three years later, with the same director in Sam Mendes from the previous film, who decided to do the film after initially saying no (Nicolas Winding Refn had said no in the meantime), here is another one of these Bond movies. Oh, but it's not any kind of mild follow-ups, no, it's the kind of sequel that tries to go all out in all the narrative and epic pulls you might see in a franchise blockbuster of the 2010s. Guess what? It isn't particularly good. It reminds me of a goldfish in a fishbowl: the fish seems to be happy in the bowl, and it gets to look something nice outside the bowl, but its memory span will prove forgettable despite all the food (spectacle in this case) you give it. In short, it manages to show not the strengths of spectacle in locations and budget but rather the weaknesses of trying to use it to hide a limp story that runs at 148 minutes for reasons I can't really comprehend.   

You may or may not remember that the character of Blofeld had been featured in physical form as the primary villain in four movies (one being a non-EON feature), but none since the 1980s. Of course, you would hope in that time spent away dealing with litigation with Kevin McClory that EON found folks that could make a quality adversary that would make the best portrayal (Telly Savalas) proud. Nope! Being overshadowed by Bautista playing a heavy with one word to say is bad, being nondescript and being brought down by narrative choices is just as bad. He manages to be like a shadow, non-descript in menace because of the choice of time given to Waltz (because hey, time to visit another country on the plot that is totally not familiar). And yes, there is a twist to help connect these previous films together: Quantum is basically a subsidiary to the real power behind the throne of secret doom: Spectre (no, not SPECTRE), complete with being linked together because someone found a ring that had everyone's fingerprints all over it (get it?). Spectre and the master plan involves surveillance that seems cribbed from both a 1984 ripoff and the "Cain and Abel" narrative. Maybe I wouldn't have seen the twist coming if I never saw the villain having a connection to the spy in "family"...in Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002). The idea of one adoptive brother wreaking havoc on the other adoptive brother is hysterical in its ridiculous contrivances - remember that after Blofeld reveals his whole "daddy liked you better" spiel to Bond and mildly tortures him (tied to a chair, but thank goodness for watches), his next brilliant plan is to go to an abandoned building and taunt Bond to find him with arrows pointing where he is while trying to do the "save yourself or save the girl and die"...totally not a parody to guess how that goes. Exploding watches are one thing, but somewhere you have to draw the line (that line probably gave up when it heard about smart blood). It almost clouds the fact that the "surveillance angle" the film tries to play is the bare minimum of an angle, which would not be a problem if you have a striking villain or actual conviction to do something beyond "Is James Bond still relevant?" again. Simply having an adventure while tinkering with the tiniest things of the formula is too much, nah, you have to play it really safe or throw as much spectacle in digital effects to distract from this being a neutered average movie (unless you count not shooting someone as innovative). Having the illusion of an opening sequence done in one take is probably the best trick the film plays in a movie that seems to have no idea where the third act is going to go besides just throwing things up in the air and "leaving it to God" (which is probably how they decided on Sam Smith being the title singer for the film rather than Radiohead). 

You know you might be in trouble when you have not one but two Bond romances to go around, and one of them is basically a glorified cameo that really is there for info-dumps than actual passion (Bellucci, in a role I imagine had a nice paycheck, because "oldest Bond girl" means diddly squat). Seydoux reminds me of a broomstick in that things are meant to happen but you completely forgot why you had it there because you fell asleep. The chemistry of Seydoux and Craig is amusingly dry (the age difference has never been more apparent, going from 10-11 in the previous three to...seventeen), inflicting only the bare minimum of what you might expect from a Bond romance arc...but of all the ones where you see the two do a walk off into the sunset, this is not even in the top half of being convincing. Perhaps not surprisingly, the parts that work to the usual Bond formula (a Q, a M, and a Moneypenny) do pretty well when it comes to seeing Fiennes try to make his first mark as M or the small moments of Harris and Whishaw when paired with Craig, whether that involves seeing how James Bond lives for the first time in a while or hijinks with tech. Bautista does make a useful adversary in the art of quick-skilled brutality (mostly in his first scene) that contributes to an involving chase scene or two that works best among the rest of the muddy foundation points, which goes with Scott and his "totally not a bad guy" presence and Christensen...uh, I will be honest in forgetting who he was supposed to be (Casino Royale had him get shot in the leg and that's all I remember). Of course, Craig still seems like the stellar man to play the lead role, one who has the confidence required to pull the film away from being the total disaster it might have been with someone who can't have a little bit of fun with some of these lines. In other words, he still seems likes the kind of person who can pull off being an odd man that big things happen around him (while not reminding one of late 1980s Roger Moore). 

As a whole, I really did want to like the film. I wanted to like the idea of a James Bond feature that continued the thrill of where the previous venture left off and see where one can go further in spy adventure as the series goes past its 50th anniversary. And yet, somehow, I found it to be probably the most mind-boggling misfire since Die Another Day (2002). In trying to dazzle the audience with new tricks, all they managed to do is show an empty hand. It may be a nice film in parts, but it is a dull stinker in all the other ways that make it a muddle to sit through. It isn't the worst Bond film, but it is probably the most confounding, and I imagine whenever I see the next one I can only have the slightest of expectations that they found a way to just, you know, do a Bond movie that isn't a big muddle when everything else is fine.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Delinquents (1957).

Review #1890: The Delinquents.

Cast: 

Tom Laughlin (Scotty White), Peter Miller (Bill Cholly), Richard Bakalyan (Eddy), Rosemary Howard (Janice Wilson), Leonard Belove (Mr. White), Helen Hawley (Mrs. White), James Lantz (Mr. Wilson), Lotus Corelli (Mrs. Wilson), and Christine Altman (Sissy Wilson) Directed by Robert Altman (#900 - Nashville and #1433 - M*A*S*H)

Review: 

"The danger of writing a script is that everybody has the same voice. I think when they don’t have the same voice it makes the film better. So when you have five different sources in there, five different voices, it seems closer to reality. I’m trying to push the actor into becoming a real creator—creating that part. Bringing things to it that the writer and/or myself couldn’t bring."

Here we have a couple of firsts. This was the first feature film in work of Robert Altman. The Kansas City native returned from service in the Thirteenth Air Force with the interest of writing, but his minimal success in that field (one film script got sold) had him move back, and his next assignment was with the Calvin Company, an advertising, educational, and industrial film production company. He directed many industrial shorts for the company before he got his first foray beyond that with television in the early 1950s. This was the first starring role for Tom Laughlin. Yes, before he got into the act of trying to write and direct his own films, Laughlin was an actor, starting in 1955 with a handful of television appearances and one film to his name before this feature. If you can believe it, Laughlin and Altman did not get along during production, mostly because of the way that Laughlin wanted to do the film (Laughlin described himself as a "Stanislavsky actor", not a Method actor), complete with actually preparing for a tired moment by running laps, and Altman later called him a "pain in the ass" while finding the best way to settle things: he simply told Laughlin what he wanted in a certain scene; for his part, Laughlin described the film as "very amateurish" along with expressing a dislike of Altman's lack of organization, and at one point he started rolling the cameras to shoot a scene rather than wait for Altman to arrive (because he felt guilty given whose money it was). Tying this all together is the debut production of Elmer Rhoden Jr, a Kansas City-born exhibitor of films that was president of a theater chain that encompassed six states. Wanting to tap into the teen market in an era where there was plenty to go around from rock and roll to hot rod features, Rhoden Jr made his first effort into producing, complete with using the theater chain as a way to get his film regional success. With a budget of roughly $63,000, he recruited Altman, who would write along with recruit the people required for said production in terms of casting and location picking, complete with recruiting people from his industrial films and a mix of California talent (including cooperation from the Kansas City Police Department) to go alongside Altman's wife at the time (Corelli, who divorced him when he began having Hawley as his mistress) and Altman's daughter as actors in the film. Rhoden would make two further features as a producer before he died in 1959, dying a couple of months after suffering a heart attack (owing to his alcoholism) at the age of 37.

Admittedly, if you did not know that Altman was the director or that Laughlin was the star, you might not be inclined to pick it out among the oodles of delinquent films. But the film is a decent one in the ways that matter most from folks making their first attempt at breaking into features, regardless of how they thought of the other. Laughlin would get his chances to act and direct by 1960 while Altman would get to direct on a regular basis in television before he got his next chance to direct in features again with Countdown (1967) before hitting the big time in the 1970s. The Delinquents isn't exactly anything special, but it was a modest success that did all the things one might see from seeing people (not quite teenagers but not quite just 30-year olds) try to play juveniles and do the mildest form of "bad things" (you see a mildly involving switchblade fight to go with robbery hijinks and partying). You can see the idea of Altman wanting to have loose and free dialogue go with his favoring of trying to not go through all of the Hollywood channels. One can see the seeds of the observer of chaos even in a movie that Altman might have been only loosely fine with in the long run. He got to make a movie on his terms but saw it changed with voiceovers to start and end the movie that present it as a tale of violence and immorality...that sees delinquency as a disease that could be treated with either more attention from parents or youth groups. I think Altman just wanted to make a movie where teens just go around on a cruise about town without an easy endgame, and in that sense, it is a neat little movie, efficient in 72 minutes in going where it wants without seeming stifled by boredom. The parental figures present their cases of thinking they know what is best for their kids in this age (which isn't like when they were kids, obviously). Laughlin may have the screen presence of a rock tumbling down a well, but it is a graceful presence that handles what is required in someone trapped in expectations on all sides without becoming just a Method punching bag while Howard maneuvers panic with mild success. Bakalyan and Miller won't exactly set a new presence as "hoods of tomorrow" like the poster might say, but they are capable threats that you would expect from a film like this that keeps things firmly on the level. As a whole, things come, things go, but some things are forever, whether that involves actors or directors getting their first true chance to make an impression mean something. Regardless of how the experience went, The Delinquents is a solid feature for its headliners that makes quite the curiosity for those who wish to seek it out as an average but fascinating piece of chaos.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Ocean's Eleven.

Review #1889: Ocean's Eleven.

Cast: 

George Clooney (Danny Ocean), Matt Damon (Linus Caldwell), Andy Garcia (Terry Benedict), Brad Pitt (Rusty Ryan), Julia Roberts (Tess Ocean), Bernie Mac (Frank Catton), Elliott Gould (Reuben Tishkoff), Casey Affleck (Virgil Malloy), Scott Caan (Turk Malloy), Eddie Jemison (Livingston Dell), Don Cheadle (Basher Tarr), Shaobo Qin (The Amazing Yen), and Carl Reiner (Saul Bloom) Directed by Steven Soderbergh (#984 - Logan Lucky and #1526 - Traffic)

Review: 

"I wanted to see if I could combine two types of films, one that had this elegant, elaborate, technical side but also this casual off-hand quality to the performances – a film that wasn't aggressive."

The thing to remember about Ocean's 11 (1960) is that it sucked. It was a mediocre, bland movie that begged for a more involving script when it came to making a star vehicle heist movie that did only one thing right: making the idea of stealing money from Vegas with an intricate plan sounded cool. So yes, I would understand why someone would think they could do a remake of a 40-year old movie with a new array of talented name actors. Ted Griffin serves as the screenwriter for this film, which takes the loosest of inspiration from the original film and its screenplay by Harry Brown, Charles Lederer, George Clayton Johnson & Jack Golden Russell. Soderbergh, who went from indie classics such as Sex, Lies, and Videotape (1989) to mainstream success with Erin Brockovich and Traffic (both 2001), was recruited to direct, and he directed both of the subsequent sequels (released in 2004 and 2007), which were all commercial successes.

The easiest thing to say is that the remake is better than the original. In fact, it runs laps around the original, doing so despite perhaps being just a good feature rather than the possible great caper it could have been. It is not particularly outstanding in any one area, but it manages to do just enough in being good in most of the core aspects to make it a solid piece of entertainment. It is a movie that wants you have a good time and that's about it, doing so with casual energy and expertise that would make anyone favorable to a machine-type of film (i.e. a movie that is mechanical but solid for a rental) where the heist is a heist you might see coming but enjoy anyway, complete with assembling its key eleven pretty quickly in the 116-minute run-time. Clooney glides through the adventure with casual charm, maneuvering through the machinations of what comes with heists and people, which mainly consists of a few amusing moments when it comes to the setup and his key part of the climax. Pitt maneuvers as the second man with casual coolness that also lends for a few little neat moments, such as pretending to be a doctor to move his way forward. Damon has the self-effacing qualities one might see from other films with him, which more or less means that he makes the best of playing a quiet pickpocket. Granted, some of the supporting cast sticks out better than others. Cheadle tries his best to play the charade of having a Cockney accent in a manner that would make Dick van Dyke proud. Oh right, I hadn't actually seen Julia Roberts in a movie before. Eh, she's okay, but watching the chemistry between her and Clooney is merely passable in bittersweet zippiness, which either means I should watch more films with Roberts or just go on my merry way. Besides, Garcia is the real presence among the others, odious and calculating in all the right ways as the targeted heavy. Mac and Reiner make quality relief in the "comedians turned con men" roles, as is the case with Gould and his loose charisma. Disappointing that Jemison and Qin kind of fall by the wayside, since Jemison's panicky characterization is at least semi-interesting as opposed to Caan and Affleck trying to play siblings for what you'd expect in very loose amusement. Each half could be seen coming in terms of general "know where it's going" quality, but they work out in not dragging the obvious points down, and the eventual endpoint is a nice way to go out. As a whole, the movie is a glossy and familiar work, but it is a well-executed familiar work that does everything you would expect from it with plenty to like that fulfills its reasonable expectations just fine. Whether one has seen the original or the subsequent sequels to the remake, you can't really go wrong here.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

Review #1888: Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.

Cast: 

Andy Serkis (Caesar), Jason Clarke (Malcolm), Gary Oldman (Dreyfus), Keri Russell (Ellie), Toby Kebbell (Koba), Kodi Smit-McPhee (Alexander), Kirk Acevedo (Carver), Nick Thurston (Blue Eyes), Terry Notary (Rocket), Karin Konoval (Maurice), Judy Greer (Cornelia), Jon Eyez (Foster), and Enrique Murciano (Kemp) Directed by Matt Reeves (#1038 - Cloverfield and #1814 - The Batman)

Review: 

"I think that what I thought was this emotionality and being in the apes kind of inner lives, that's a reason to do this.  Like because you know the ending.  And so now the question is how do we get from here to there?"

I'm sure you remember Ruper Wyatt's Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011), the first reboot movie involving Planet of the Apes since the last time someone tried to do a new Planet of the Apes ten years prior. With the use of visual effects and performance capture by Weta Digital rather than prosthetics, it certainly made quite the impression in trying to make a new path inspired by Pierre Boulle's 1963 novel Planet of the Apes. Honestly, while I remember Rise being fine, I think I could only tell you that Andy Serkis was the best part to remember, if only because his motion capture performance (and occasional voice) really made the film distinct in not just being a mundane reboot/makeup show (of course, Serkis had considerable experience with capture in the previous years, so that helps). Wyatt did not return for this film, instead being replaced by Matt Reeves, director of films such as Cloverfield (2008) and Let Me In (2010), and the only cast members to return are Serkis, Konoval, and Notary (you may notice those are all performers for apes, and this is the case with the subsequent 2017 sequel). The film was written by Mark Bomback, Rick Jaffa, and Amanda Silver (the latter two wrote Rise and also serve as producers on this film), with Bomback being brought in to do re-writes, as Reeves was not big on the original treatment (post apocalyptic San Francisco...with humans and apes pushing up power lines), favoring fir a story with Caesar at the forefront that spends a good chunk of its first quarter with him before eventually segueing into the "surprise" of human life (since remember that the humans suffered an airborne flu that spread worldwide in the c-sorry, Simian flu).

So yes, there are elements of previous Ape films (such as Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973), for example), but there is something here that was sorely needed from the shallow or mild foundations seen in the last two features: energy. It has a pacing to it in its presentation of the similarities and differences that come with human and ape life (where you can see some American Sign Language utilized with certain quirks done), one that has an edge in handling the material with a useful main presence with plenty of credibility and presentation to go around. With a more balanced film of actors with and not with motion-capture, Serkis leads the ensemble with commanding presence, one that handles the dilemma present in both apes and humans in the battle of how one treats others (hint: co-existence is easy to say but hard to administer). One looks past the fact that Serkis (and others playing apes) had to act with a bunch of dots around his face and instead sees the talent shown by him in the art of showing dominance alongside conflict. Serkis has managed to evolve the character with his performance that mimics the evolution of the apes in the most fitting of ways, which makes the overall result all the more interesting. The rest keep up okay. Clarke makes a reasonable counterpart to the divide, well-meaning in trust when it is earned in ways that operate in similar fashion to the performance by James Franco in the earlier film (with regards to Caesar) without being a copy, and Russell and Smit-McPhee make okay companions to the human element (well, one is here for folks like the big orange primate, not kids and step parents trying to make friends). Oldman has only a select number of things to really do as a sort of caretaker, since Serkis has the show, but he does prove a useful adversary for what is needed in the long run, which also applies to Kebbell when he is paired against Serkis in terms of pain and aggression. As a whole, it shows plenty of perspective on its inevitable road to ruin. As a movie depicting the brink of war and a demoralized world, it's a pretty solid adventure. It runs through its 130 minutes with careful ambition to make involving drama for a useful epic. It makes most of an effort to stand apart from the number of sci-fi dystopias involving the usual suspects while inviting the question of what could happen next with Ceasar and beyond.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Thin Man.

Review #1887: The Thin Man.

Cast: 

William Powell (Nick Charles), Myrna Loy (Nora Charles), Maureen O'Sullivan (Dorothy Wynant), Nat Pendleton (Lt. John Guild), Minna Gombell (Mimi Wynant Jorgenson), Porter Hall (Herbert MacCaulay), Henry Wadsworth (Tommy), William Henry (Gilbert Wynant), Harold Huber (Arthur Nunheim), Cesar Romero (Chris Jorgenson), Natalie Moorhead (Julia Wolf), Edward Brophy (Joe Morelli), Edward Ellis (Clyde Wynant), and Skippy (Asta) Directed by W. S. Van Dyke (#231 - San Francisco)

Review: 

Admittedly, a movie with a director known as "One Take Woody" sounds like a recipe for an interesting time. W. S. Van Dyke entered film in 1915 after a wide variety of time spent in business school and numerous part-time jobs and theater company tours. He went from assistant director with D. W. Griffith to director in the span of two years. When it came to sound, he was adept in his craft that made him a solid company man for Metro Goldwyn Mayer that served him well until his death in 1943. Of course, this is something worthwhile to mention because of the fact that he was one of the key parts behind what ended up becoming a film series. The Thin Man saw five further features: After the Thin Man (1936), Another Thin Man (1939), Shadow of the Thin Man (1941), The Thin Man Goes Home (1945), and Song of the Thin Man (1947). Van Dyke would direct three of the sequels while its main stars in Powell and Loy starred in each of the movies (one would notice that the "Thin Man" actually originally refers to a missing man played by Ellis, but people referred to Powell as "Thin Man" pretty early on). The movie, if you didn't know, is an adaptation of the 1934 novel of the same name by Dashiell Hammett. Hammett was a member of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency (both private law enforcers and aggressors against organized labor) before he was a writer, which led him to write numerous stories and novels with characters such as Sam Spade (as it turned out, this was the last novel written by Hammett, who dealt with tough health and other struggles before his death in 1961). Husband-and-wife duo Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich wrote the feature, with instruction by Van Dyke to loosely adapt the novel while having concentration on providing witty banter for its lead actors, with Van Dyke often shooting the first take due to his belief that actors lose spontaneity with every passing take.

Go figure that a movie shot in less than three weeks ended up being a complete success for all involved.  The chemistry between Powell and Loy in banter is one that other filmmakers would be jealous enough to wish they could steal for themselves. Van Dyke knew he had magic with these folks, so he made a movie with resourceful pacing and spontaneity that makes for a capable mystery with chuckles to go around. Powell may have been considered a bit too old for the part (42) when compared to Loy (29), associated with exotic roles at the time. But they are so dazzling here, zinging off each other without serving as distraction for tired plotting. Powell knows exactly what to lend to the material in his timing and mannerisms, sophisticated in deduction without coming off as a Sherlock pastiche. He glides through 91 minutes as if the plot wasn't particularly important to having fun. It wasn't his first crack at playing a detective (he had played the character Philo Vance in four films from 1929 to 1933), but it was his first crack at having a film that wanted to show him with sophistication and charm. Powell and Loy would star in fourteen total movies together. Loy makes a quality partner in her own wiry charm that pushes things along with easygoing flair that matches wit (and alcohol) with Powell all the same in pure escapism. O'Sullivan and the others have to play a bit of catch-up in maintaining the plot to some sort of believable level (i.e. things that you've probably heard from a detective story but not completely cliche), in order to not be completely overshadowed by the duo, much less the dog and his paw movement. The dinner sequence where all are seated in order to gradually explain the whodunit is particularly effective in execution in closing the romp. This is the kind of movie where a guy can sock someone from behind before getting into a scuffle or have lines like "didn't come anywhere near my tabloids", you should have a real good time with this movie. Regardless how the follow-up films went, Dyke cultivated in record time a work of useful entertainment that saw one of the best pairings in film history (Powell and Loy) come together for one of the most interesting films of its era that practically walks on air with its sophistication that all would be proud to be part of.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Sneakers (1992).

Review #1886: Sneakers.

Cast: 

Robert Redford (Martin Bishop / Martin Brice), Ben Kingsley (Cosmo), Sidney Poitier (Donald Crease), David Strathairn (Irwin 'Whistler' Emery), Dan Aykroyd (Darren 'Mother' Roskow), River Phoenix (Carl Arbogast), Mary McDonnell (Liz Ogilvy), Stephen Tobolowsky (Werner Brandes), Timothy Busfield (Dick Gordon), Eddie Jones (Buddy Wallace), George Hearn (Gregor "Greg" Ivanovich), Donal Logue (Dr. Gunter Janek), Lee Garlington (Dr. Elena Rhyzkov), and James Earl Jones (NSA Agent Bernard Abbott) Directed by Phil Alden Robinson (#488 - Field of Dreams)

Review: 

Ensemble movies need their appreciation too, if you think about it. Do you remember WarGames (1983)? In the process of writing the script for that film, Lawrence Lasker and Walter F. Parkes discovered the existence of "sneakers", which refers to hackers that well, sneak into a computer system somewhere (in this case, the hackers here are hired by banks to break in and test the security system). A number of drafts eventually attracted the attention of Phil Alden Robinson, and he ended up spending nine years trying to get the film going. Getting the attention of Robert Redford (cast in a role originally intended with a star in their mid-40s as written by people in their 40s) helped the process and eventually led to a film with a cadre of actors that went from veteran stars to younger names such as River Phoenix (this was the penultimate movie released before his death the following year) while squeezing James Earl Jones in for one scene. Lasker and Parkes also produced the film, which was their fourth venture together (one of them was Awakenings (1990)). Clearly, the movie is really more of a take on the caper movies of yesteryear with its distinct characters in its ensemble, although the message about a world run by "little ones and zeroes" probably still seems quite true after three decades. You probably remember Robinson as the director of Field of Dreams (1989), his second effort; Sneakers is his third feature effort, and his next feature film ended up being Freedom Song eight years later.

Admittedly, it is a nice little movie when it comes to seeing familiar faces in an attempt at a techno-thriller/heist movie. Oh sure, it is a movie that does extoll a little bit about the quirks of a new age where having control of the information might be more important than having the fastest gun. Sneakers does so with a grasp of a number of cliches you have probably seen in countless heist movies with how you can describe the supporting characters in two-word phrases or how the climax is operated (besides the literal slow-motion sequence), right down to needing to acquire a box. In that sense, it can either prove as a comfort movie with plenty of enjoyment from an age like the 1990s or just an average ensemble, and I think it works out more often than not to make a quiet winner. Redford does well with what is needed in general charm, a uniter of misfits with what you've seen a few times from him (perhaps playing a bit of The Sting but without looking like a copy). Poitier, in his penultimate appearance in a feature film, still has the knack for steely timing to contrast the semi-whimsical others, mostly against Aykroyd (amusingly, when approached for the film, he actually was more interested in playing the Cosmo role before being told that Kingsley was signed for it). Kingsley doesn't have as much to really do as the adversary, but in a movie with just a fraction of action and more about the general chase, this works out okay in general familiarity (better him than a ham or a nonentity, perhaps). Strathairn lends a few chuckles to go along with a wiry Phoenix that make the most of those little moments to shuffle the plot. McDonnell makes a quality deadpan middleperson, one who does share a few interesting moments with Redford alongside some chuckles with Tobolowsky, who seems to be having a ball with his moments on screen. 126 minutes is admittedly a big ask for thrillers to enjoy, but I think it does pull enough out of the bag of enjoyment to work at the expectation required from its cast and crew. It's a movie about a couple of scraps who just want to untangle themselves from a weirdo conspiracy involving uncertainties that is dealt with in wry patience that makes a solid little three-decade gem. If fun-loving ensembles trying to play caper is up your alley, go right ahead with this one, where the game of concerns of privacy still holds true now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

City Girl (1930).

Review #1885: City Girl.

Cast: 

Charles Farrell (Lem Tustine), Mary Duncan (Kate), David Torrence (Mr Tustine), Edith Yorke (Mrs Tustine), Anne Shirley (Marie Tustine), Tom McGuire (Matey), Richard Alexander (Mac), and Roscoe Ates (Reaper) Directed by F. W. Murnau (#256 - Nosferatu, #499 - Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, #1335 - Tabu: A Story of the South Seas)

Review: 

Admittedly, covering certain directors takes a bit of leeway when it comes to the realm of the silent era, particularly with F. W. Murnau. Of the 21 feature films made by the German director, only twelve of them survive in its entirety, with this being one of the lucky ones while being the last of the three Fox Film productions he did. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) is obviously the most famous as a statement in visual interest (it had a synchronized musical score and sound effects soundtrack. His next feature, 4 Devils (1928), is now considered lost. At any rate, Murnau shot the movie in Athena and Pendleton, Oregon, and it probably makes considerable sense to someone who actually did once purchase a farm of his own. The working title of the feature was "Our Daily Bread", which ended up being used for select distribution in European countries (besides, in 1934, King Vidor would use the title for his own film). The movie is an adaptation of Elliott Lester's play The Mud Turtle, which had run for a number of performances in 1925 (as such it was adapted to the screen in scenario by Marion Orth and Berthold Viertel while H.H. Caldwell and Katherine Hilliker did the titles). There were two versions of the film: a part-sound version that had music and re-shot parts when Murnau refused to cater to Fox's demands and the silent version. The sound version is lost, but the silent version has been restored from its initial re-discovery in the 1970s (as a survivor of the vaults unlike a number of Fox Film features, which includes Sunrise's original 35mm negative). Incidentally, this film would serve as an inspiration for Terence Malick's Days of Heaven (1978).

It may not be as memorable in its striking visual power as say, Sunrise, but it still makes for quite a feature to enjoy. In a way, it is a distinct telling of that film when it comes to the clash of people from the small towns and someone from the city that could lead to consequences. Now, instead of the lakeside, one reaches the wheatfields of Minnesota. It is like a companion film without becoming a shell. The lesson one does learn within a romance filled with sweet people like this is that you can leave the city but still find weird things in the countryside. Idyllic life isn't something you just find on a farm or the city because it happens to look like it can be, as people of all personalities can be found wherever you lurk, where one hopes to find honest people for meaningful understanding. There is more to life than making movement and relying on habits and prejudices, you might say. The character may seem simple and easily defined, but one just has to find the little layers within that makes useful ambiguity. One never knows what would have happened if Murnau had not died in 1931 when it comes to filmmaking, but I can imagine that he clearly valued the art of silent filmmaking more than just doing a film with sound for the sake of it. You can show a city diner without needing the sound to make it seem alive when it comes to showing how Farrell and Duncan make a quick quality pair. As pawns in the game of life that isn't easy or fair for singles or couples, they grow on you pretty well. It's not a movie built for cute moments of course, since Torrence serves as the grumpy counter to idealism while Alexander makes a quality cad. 

Inevitably, the ending isn't quite what you would hope would occur from a film like this. It seems just a bit too sudden and convenient for what has to be seen and not see in the resolution of the triangle conflict. Of course, who really knows if the final shot of two people crossing the threshold of being again in the farms will work the way you think: understanding people is one thing, living with them day after day is another. Murnau is hopeful but not preachy about what he thinks to say about the illusions that come with rural and city life. As an 89-minute feature, it is paced with delicate efficiency that arrived perhaps a bit too late to make the mark it should have deserved among the silents. At any rate, Murnau's penultimate feature is a pretty good one that can be watched among his other surviving works with general interest. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

L'Age d'Or

Review #1884: L'Age d'Or.

Cast: 

Gaston Modot (The Man), Lya Lys (Young Girl), Caridad de Laberdesque (Chambermaid and Little Girl), Max Ernst (Leader of men in cottage), Josep Llorens Artigas (Governor), Lionel Salem (Duke of Blangis), Germaine Noizet (Marquise), Duchange (Conductor), and Valentine Penrose (Spirit) Directed by Luis Buñuel (#1383 - Él and #1723 - Los Olvidados)

Review: 

I'm sure you are familiar with Un Chien Andalou (1929), the debut of Luis Bunuel to cinema in a collaboration with Salvador Dali. It was a short movie, lasting under thirty minutes that has endured in its imagery. They had met at the University of Madrid in 1917 while Bunuel was studying philosophy. They had a friendship filled with contentious arguments and creativity, which sprinkled heavily onto filmmaking. The earlier film for example, featured a scene of ants swarming around hands and a sliced eye because each had dreamt it, so as a film of surrealist principles without aiming for rational explanation, this makes considerable sense. One year later, Bunuel would have his feature debut with this film (translates to The Golden Age), albeit one that is just 63 minutes that is presented with title cards to tell elements of the story despite having sound (with French dialogue present). The film had attracted attention that led to a commissioned new project from the de Noailles family (Charles and Marie-Laurie). They owned a private cinema and would end up helping to fund other filmmakers with certain interests such as Man Ray. Bunuel would also serve as editor and co-writer of the music with Georges van Parys; every bit of footage shot by Bunuel made it into the film, which he shot sequentially. The resulting film (which grew from an idea of a short to a feature) damaged a friendship, led to a French far-right group throwing ink on the screen, and a critic calling the film one that dragged "country, family, and religion" into the mud. While there would be private exhibitions in subsequent years, distribution and public exhibition of the feature would not happen again until the late 1970s, since the de Noailles family withdrew it in light of the condemnations.

Dali and Bunuel had a falling out due to growing ideological disagreements - Dali later stated he was always an "anarchist and monarchist" while once angering Bunuel when he called him a "Communist and an atheist" in a book when Bunuel was in America. But hey, each became noted names in certain fields of film and art, things happen. Describing what happens in various moments seems redundant, but let's give it a try: scorpions, people sucking on fingers, an end sequence called "120 days of depraved acts" (referring to a famous work) that features someone with a long beard and white robe that resembles a certain figure, people writhing in the mud, people on fire that no one pays attention to, a blind man getting knocked over...you get the idea, I think. Of the noted five names in the cast, Modot and Lys were the only professional actors, while Penrose was a poet/author, Ernst was a painter/poet, and Artigas was a ceramic artist. The folks in the film generally work well with the flow of images because one doesn't need to say too much to portray hypocrisy and frustration. The film moves like a scorpion with frenzied movements in its vignettes before reaching the end with clear-tipped poison that will strike whoever dares to go in without a clear mind. It strikes the bourgeois hypocrisies that Bunuel saw in his times that still seem apparent now that can really be construed to one sentence: screw the rules. I welcome the boldness to yearn to engage in that primal desire to consummate without the thoughts of the church or society-at-large to act as a supposed moral guardian. Hypocrisy is in the eye of the beholder, whether one is horny or really, really hates the insanities of modern life. I think it works out pretty well in general interest, one with striking power after many decades without becoming an insult to one's patience. It provokes and examines things without preaching to you, and it is mostly effective in its pacing and presentation of imagery. Bunuel made one further film in the decade with the ethnofiction work Land Without Bread [Las Hurdes: Tierra Sin Pan] before his hiatus, but the best was still to come for him. The fact that one could find this film on the Internet (along with the earlier short) means one could have an interesting time if one is looking for something in the realm of the surreal.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Old Fashioned Way.

Review #1883: The Old Fashioned Way.

Cast: 

W. C. Fields (The Great McGonigle / Squire Cribbs), Joe Morrison (Wally Livingston / William Dowton), Baby LeRoy (Albert Pepperday), Judith Allen (Betty McGonigle / Agnes Dowton), Jan Duggan (Cleopatra Pepperday), Tammany Young (Marmaduke Gump), Nora Cecil (Mrs. Wendelschaffer), Lew Kelly (Sheriff Walter Jones), Jack Mulhall (Dick Bronson), Oscar Apfel (Mr. Livingston), Samuel Ethridge (Bartley Neuville / Edward Middleton / The Drunkard), Ruth Marion (Agatha Sprague / Mary Wilson), and Richard Carle (Sheriff of Barnesville) Directed by William Beaudine (#463 - Billy the Kid versus Dracula, #535 - Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla, and #1153 - Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter)

Review: 

There was plenty of time for director to have their assignment involve W. C. Fields, who ended up in countless comedies over the 1930s, with varying results. William Beaudine was a director who churned out movies at a rate in quantity and genre distinction like no other, which meant that there is a crop of varying quality with his films, which he directed for decades when he started at the age of 23 in the 1910s (with features in next decade, with plenty of comedies around). Of course, Beaudine was the man for hire with Paramount Pictures in a string of movies that he done on assignment for various recognizable names such as Fox Film (later in the decade, with studios chafing at meeting his salary finances, which meant he eventually had to go with cheaper studios). This film was written by Jack Cunningham based on a story by "Charles Bogle", which was just another name for W. C. Fields that I'm sure you are familiar with him doing the same thing in other movies such as It's a Gift, released the same year as this. This is an interesting presentation: it shows scenes from a play that the characters in the movie play for a crowd with The Drunkard: or, The Fallen Saved, (written primarily by William Henry Smith with unknown collaborators) which was first performed in 1844. The play was a temperance play, which meant that it was a play meant to warn of the dangers of consuming alcohol (remember that the United States did an entire Amendment dedicated to banning it in the early 20th century). It was actually quite popular as something to produce across the States in the 19th century. While it may seem like dated melodrama of its time, there actually is a little theater in Tulsa that has done a production of the play one time a week for nearly seven decades. Even Buster Keaton made fun of the play with his own parody in 1940.

Million Dollar Legs (1932) was his first Paramount appearance (with a few shorts sprinkled in that were done by Mack Sennett), while International House (1933) made him even more popular that would keep on a road to taking the primary lead in films that came out later such as Tillie and Gus and then this film (there were a few little anthologies along the way to go with other films like David Copperfield (1935), of course). Of course, the film shows the play within audiences that would engage with the drama on its own terms (i.e. reaction shots) in emotional involvement, whether that means a woman telling her husband to watch his heart or a couple asking if they think "this" is a good play. The film verges on the huckster played by Fields and not so much on the weirdness of the play, because you think of it for yourself (so can either look on the nostalgia of 19th century audiences enjoying a play or whatever). He approaches things with lofty patience for what he knows will be amusing sequences for himself besides the necessary parts involving would-be romances or other things. He's a misanthrope in the most fun way possible, weaving his way through oddballs of adults and children for general interest…and he also shows his juggling skill to the audience, which he was pretty adept in the old days of vaudeville that is a key highlight. As a whole, the movie works best in his time on screen in general huckster amusement, where he can maneuver select lines and facial expressions without the semblance of tiredness or forcing it in, down to the logical conclusion set at the end. He seems adept at trying to convince folks (read: studio executives) that he can carry his own film without needing to be just part of the ensemble, which seems easy to prove now but obviously needed to be shown for clear enjoyment there, such as when he plays sly in the opening when trying to reach a train looking for his deadbeat self...which he handles adeptly. The stuff with Allen and Morrison is okay, mostly since it isn't just a single-minded pursuit of a girl (because hey, she wants him to get a life in college). Baby LeRoy is a baby, which means if you care for stuff involving him "throwing" stuff, then it works fine. If one prefers to see Fields play a charlatan rather than a family man, then go right ahead. I thought it worked out fine for a serviceable pace that is easygoing enough for most folks to enjoy without losing focus. It isn't exactly his most distinct feature, but it works out in all the useful ways needed to make it worth a watch.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Big News (1929).

Review #1882: Big News.

Cast: 

Robert Armstrong (Steve Banks), Carole Lombard (Margaret Banks), Louis Payne (Hensel), Wade Boteler (O'Neill), Charles Sellon (Addison), Sam Hardy (Reno), Tom Kennedy (Ryan), Warner Richmond (District Attorney Phelps), and Helen Ainsworth (Vera, society editor) Directed by Gregory La Cava (#1787 - My Man Godfrey)

Review: 

Remember the good ol' days of directors being tasked to make movies on the quick and low that had a semblance of a plot to go with sound? Well, okay, maybe you are quite familiar with films of the late 1920s that saw plenty of filmmakers try to mold themselves away from the silent era with new output of sound and all the challenges that came with doing so. Gregory La Cava was at least familiar with making a number of films with romantic or comedic interludes before this one, cultivating himself with two-reel comedies before moving into features in the 1920s. and this one that was spearheaded by Pathé Exchange, Inc (the American subsidiary of Pathe-turned independent spinoff that did a number of movies from the 1910s until 1930). The film was based on the play For Two Cents by George S. Brooks, while the adaptation was done by Walter DeLeon, Jack Jungmeyer and Frank Reicher. Strangely enough, the film has a sound gimmick within its plot, because the climax involves a Dictaphone record. Well, that, and a reporter who has to fight alcoholism and a crime ring that wants to frame him for murder...of the boss that just fired him (yea, okay). The film features Carole Lombard, billed as Carol Lombard for the second-to-last time in her career, with this being one of three sound films in 1929. Of course, the real fresh face is Robert Armstrong, who actually had studied law at the University of Washington before becoming an actor while nearing the age of thirty in 1919 and a film actor in 1927. 

Somehow, this just didn't become one of those sound movies that people really remember. Maybe it was just too low budget to really dazzle audiences curious for hearing people talk, or maybe it just was something else (for curiosity, I looked up any contemporary review I could see of this film, and the only one called it a movie that "will make money wherever it is shown" - this was released only a month before the Wall Street crash, incidentally). When it comes to newspaper wisecrackers, The Front Page (released two years later as an adaptation of a Broadway play) probably ends up being one of the first ones you would mention among the early sound features, mostly because of its own snappy dialogue and eclectic timing. Of course, both movies were made before the rigid enforcement of the Production Code, so there's that to consider. Big News is merely just a thing that exists in mediocrity, not exactly writing the wheel on camera movement or snappy newspeak, but it can work out for those who want to spend 75 minutes on something that moves in a straight line. Sure, there are a few moments where it explores the trouble of trying to let go a good bottle, but you probably know where it will go in setting the steps to inevitably laying off the stuff (because hey, this was the 1920s), for better or worse. Armstrong in that sense makes a quality lead to follow, one who can play things with wryness that doesn't aim for straight pity, earning stripes of charm gradually over time for general interest. The newspaper scenes are breezy and worthy in what you might see from banter that doesn't plod too much, and Lombard shows withering devotion that has the bare promise of having screen presence with better material. Hardy plays the heavy with relatively no trouble, while Kennedy and Ainsworth make goofy support. As a whole, the movie looks exactly what you'd see from something with two sets and a climax that is not nearly as built together as it thinks it is (with a haphazard setup that is solved haphazardly) in a confusing muddle of a movie. Watching the movie seems like watching rainwater slowly move down gutters - it might seem nice for a while, but you won't really remember much of it when it passes by. It just doesn't do enough to win out in the end, but at least the main folks got to do more promising things.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Love Parade.

Review #1881: The Love Parade.

Cast: 

Maurice Chevalier (Count Alfred Renard), Jeanette MacDonald (Queen Louise), Lupino Lane (Jacques), Lillian Roth (Lulu), Eugene Pallette (Minister of War), E. H. Calvert (Sylvanian Ambassador), Edgar Norton (Master of Ceremonies), and Lionel Belmore (Prime Minister) Produced and Directed by Ernst Lubitsch (#1026 - The Shop Around the Corner and #1358 - To Be or Not to Be)

Review: 

"I made sometimes pictures which were not up to my standard, but then it can only be said about a mediocrity that all his works live up to his standard."

So, here we are with an example of film directors honing their craft with the dawn of sound in features. Ernst Lubitsch had been a director after honing his craft in the early 1910s as an actor in his native Germany, doing so with a mix of comedies and historical dramas before notice abroad led him to leave for Hollywood in 1922. He directed for various studios over the next two decades, and one wouldn't be surprised that his first part-sound film in The Patriot (1928) earned him an Academy Award nomination. The Love Parade, which premiered in late 1929 but not released to the public until January of 1930, is his first true sound feature. Go figure that his first sound film featured two singers for actors. Chevalier became a performer in his native France since the turn of the 20th century, with only a stint as a prisoner of war in World War I serving to interrupt his career (apparently his two years as a POW is where he learned English). He did appear in a number of films before this one, which included Innocents of Paris (1929), but it is this film that made him a key name, although he had to be convinced by Lubitsch that his voice (a working-class one) would fit the style that Lubitsch wanted with a fantasy-land European sounding country. As for MacDonald, she was in the business of performances since she was a child, complete with touring in kid shows before becoming a teenager and soon doing stints on Broadway. Strangely enough, the way to her becoming involved with this film came from a screen test for a film she wasn't allowed to do (due to contract), since Lubitsch happened to look through old screen tests and found the one he wanted with her, with this being her debut feature. MacDonald and Chevalier would do a couple of films together (most notably with The Merry Widow (1934), which had Lubitsch as director).

The film is based on the play The Prince Consort, a French play written by Jules Chancel and Leon Xanrof (which in turn had been a Broadway play in 1905). Guy Bolton and Ernest Vadja wrote the screenplay for the film. Lubitsch made a musical different from the early approaches of doing a sound movie that folks saw with The Broadway Melody (1929) in having songs performed in front of a static camera. In other words: sometimes to tell a story, you tell it with a song, complete with a solid supporting cast to back them up in amusement. When it comes to good-natured escapism, you can't go wrong with something like this, one that makes for a solid achievement of entertainment. It does so with gusto of energy from its director that gives its main stars things to do beyond just being vehicles to sing, as their chemistry together proves quite refreshing. It is a romance of assessment, one where the wooing isn't as important as the process of finding out just what love really means to people living in a royal place where everyone seems to have their noses in business. Chevalier makes a quality rogue to follow with from the very first sequence we see and hear of him in the 107-minute feature, which involves him dealing with a scorned lady and even sees him address the audience for a moment (singing won't come for quite a while, and he isn't even the first one to sing) before fake weapons get used for playful fun. He has a sly charisma that seemed exotic for audiences in need of someone like him in a time for new sounds and charms. Of course, MacDonald isn't to be lost in the shuffle, because her self-assured charm and collected confidence make a worthy match, one who can sing as well as she can delegate with him in graceful charm. Being a royal is one thing, being a happy royal is another, one might say. Lane and the others (including the distinct voice of Pallette) make worthwhile contributions in chuckles along with a bit of singing that make it a splendid romp across romance and the lines between being just someone's spouse and being in love. In that sense, it works out quite well, complete with having Lubitsch find ways to get around early sound quirks, complete with directing two couples to sing the same song in alternative places by having two sets built (orchestra between them off camera) that he could then piece together with editing. As a whole, it may move within the expectations that encapsulate romantic musicals, but it still manages to move with resourceful timing and pace from cast and crew that worked beyond the dreams of what one thought sound movies could be that still seems engaging today. For that, Lubitsch seems just as interesting to look back now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Forbidden Fruit (1921).

Review #1880: Forbidden Fruit.

Cast: 

Agnes Ayres (Mary Maddock), Clarence Burton (Steve Maddock), Theodore Roberts (James Harrington Mallory), Kathlyn Williams (Mrs. Mallory), Forrest Stanley (Nelson Rogers), Theodore Kosloff (Pietro Giuseppe), Shannon Day (Nadia Craig), and Bertram Johns (John Craig) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille (#1245 - The Squaw Man (1914), #1371 - Unconquered, #1697 - Why Change Your Wife?)

Review: 

Sometimes I think I haven't been quite fair with Cecil B. DeMille. Imagine being only the 119th director to have at least four films covered on Movie Night, you might. The man made seventy movies and had a reputation for scale and showmanship, yet here we are with something from his most proficient era, the silent times (the religious films are ones I can kick the can on for a couple more years). This was actually a remake of a film he had directed in 1915 called The Golden Chance, which he co-wrote with Jeanie Macpherson. She had collaborated with DeMille on countless movies in the era when she had approached him at Lasky Studios over she could act in his features (apparently, she also served as one of his mistresses). At any rate, the director made dramas, comedies, Westerns, morality plays, you get the idea; it only makes sense to go back to familiar material that worked out before, since it wasn't like people could just go back and watch the earlier movie. Yes, this is basically a riff on the Cinderella story, what with it being about a (married) seamstress being turned into a pretty woman in gorgeous gowns to serve as an escort to a man at a dinner party that sees them both fall for each other. You know who really liked the movie? Alfred Hitchcock, who cited it as one of his favorites in 1939 (he also stated Saturday Night (1922), also done by DeMille, as his favorite).  

So okay, it is a bit of a melodrama romance. Did I mention there is also a conniving butler who plans to rob them? Or that he joins up with the drunken husband of the leading lady? That, plus the extortion attempt is what makes up a very curious experience for a film. I can't say that it is great by any measure, because it certainly has moments to uh, make light of (try reading the title cards about husbands and wives out loud and you see what I mean), but it is still pretty solid for what ends up on screen for 87 minutes. It isn't as offbeat in mindset like Why Change Your Wife? (1920), but it has all of the DeMille touches in imagination with its views on love, complete with dream sequences imitating Cinderella and birds being killed by shoes being thrown. These antics are more interesting than a good chunk of the actors in the movie, who are just fine. Ayres shows a few of the demands required in basic emotions of love and pain that comes and goes. Burton makes a quality lout, one fitting the bill for what is needed in ways that you can see the decayed essence of a person with someone to play off of (hell, there's a scene where dollar bills are imposed on his eyes). Roberts and Williams do well in basically playing discount fairy godparents (again, this Cinderella story is their doing, but only because getting oil deals is important), complete with guiding our lead to the right fork to use in dinner that is pretty funny. Stanley kind of gets lost in the shuffle with minimal describing factors. Look, it is the kind of movie that hones plenty of things that would seem familiar to soap opera enjoyers, which can make for an interesting experience if one has the patience for it. DeMille knows what he likes when it comes to certain viewpoints about the ideals of love and how to show it visually. Sure, one knows where the road is going to lead when it comes to these kinds of movies, but it sure makes for a worthwhile ride to go on. Thankfully, with the public domain, one can see for themselves just what happens when you play a bit of Cinderella on the melodrama, so if it seems up your speed, perhaps take a ride with DeMille if it seems like something to view from a name in classic cinema.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Okay, there is a sort of theme I am planning with the month of September, albeit on a "Stuff to do" basis, covering movies from directors that haven't had as much coverage on Movie Night as others have had...that and one other movie I've been looking forward to. Enjoy the ride...