Blackmail (1929).

Review #2374: Blackmail (1929)

Cast: 

Anny Ondra (Alice White; Joan Berry as offstage voice), Sara Allgood (Mrs. White), Charles Paton (Mr. White), John Longden (Detective Frank Webber), Donald Calthrop (Tracy), Cyril Ritchard (Mr. Crewe, an artist), Hannah Jones (The landlady), and Harvey Braban (the Chief Inspector; Sam Livesey in silent version)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, #2014 - The Lady Vanishes, #2032 - The Man Who Knew Too Much)

Review: 

"It was a simple yarn. It was a simple story. I never really did it the way I wanted to. It–– I was probably using “The Lodger” form. I was showing in the first reel the technique of an arrest."

So, it is time to see the dawn of sound with England, I suppose. Blackmail (1929) is the striking point between silent and sound for that particular country (it wasn't the first sound movie ever in England, but it's the one people know) and of course it was Alfred Hitchcock who was right there. The movie is based on Charles Bennett's play of the same name, which had premiered on the West End in 1928 that actually had Tallulah Bankhead as the star. Hitchcock and Benn W. Levy are credited with the screenplay for the movie. At any rate, Hitchcock had done nine silent movies (as started with The Pleasure Garden [1925]), with The Manxman having previously been released in January of 1929, seven months prior to this movie. Blackmail started as a silent film with British International Pictures, but Hitchcock was given permission to film a portion in sound. The result is, well, you have two versions to pick from (the silent runs at 77 minutes, the sound runs at 85 minutes), and the sound version happens to have a chunk of it that relies on imagery and not dialogue anyway, particularly with the opening six minutes and the chase sequence at the end (incidentally, here is a sound test of the movie online, complete with Ondra speaking). In the age of needing really audible voices, Ondra, an actress born to Czech parents, was essentially dubbed for her performance, as Joan Barry read the lines of the script off camera while Ondra mouthed the words, which, well, it was the 1920s.  Incidentally, a few future noted directors participated in the movie: Ronald Neame was a clapper slate handler on the movie and Michael Powell worked as a stills photographer.  Ondra may not have been a Hitchcock mainstay, but she did maintain a constant career in acting (in German, French, and Czech) and even forming her own production company (while also being relatively in profile as the spouse of famed boxer Max Schmeling, although they were not big on a certain growing German regime); she appeared in her last movie in 1957 prior to dying in 1983 at the age of 87. As for Barry, she actually did get the chance to appear physically in a Hitchcock movie with Rich and Strange (1931) before she decided to focus on starting a family in 1933 and never returned to acting before her death in 1989. Hitchcock would be a busy man, as he directed three movies alone in 1930 (Juno and the Paycock, Murder!, Elstree Calling) on the road to doing sixteen sound movies in his native Britain before America came calling.

A restoration of the silent version of Blackmail occurred just fifteen years ago (also, if you want to hear about someone comparing both versions, you can inquire with this fellow reviewer here)*. Incidentally, in the year 2025, you can see the movie in the public domain, as is the case with movies from the year 1929 (there are versions of the movie of shoddy quality that can be found for cheap, but, well, avoid that). Sure, there are plenty of Hitchcock movies to choose from in trying to see what all the fuss is about, and you won't go wrong with this one. You get a movie with aspects that will seem right at home with a typical Hitchcock experience with a lead character entrapped in a web of trouble, a chase sequence that takes placed in a noted place (in this case, the British Museum), and a clash of aggression and vulnerability where the ending is not going to be that easy. It takes its time to set things in place when it comes to its one focus (people in peril, namely), but it is a curious enough procedural without straining in all of the cliches dealing with crime having to pay, and it goes to show that making a foray into sound did not have to be creaky to get something across to interested audiences (at least the ones who weren't seeing all of the American products). Besides, sound can be a hell of a thing to generate suspense in what comes to one's attention and what *strikes* at your attention. The performance of Ondra/Berry relies on the strange things that come with having one person for being in a fugue state for a chunk of it and the other just being a voice that is probably best played with the scene of "Knife!" that certainly sticks out in one's mind in unnerving tension. The others are fine with the conundrum that comes in procedure and the seedy smarm of Calthrop and the strait-laced Longden. Apparently, the climax involves a bit of effects trickery, as the Museum wasn't lighted enough to film the chase properly, so Hitchcock used the "Schufftan process", which deals with taking still photos of the place one wants to film and reflecting the photos in a mirror that deals with a mirror having scraped slivering. Hell of a thing, folks. The last shot at the end involving a callback to what we just saw does lend the fact that the movie isn't necessarily ending on a certain happy note, at least. Interpret at your own (fun) peril at what version of Blackmail is best for you**, but what you get in either event is a neat movie from a craftsman of suspense like no other.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*I'll be real, I don't follow too many writers because I am a bit lazy. But I check this person from time to time for fun.

**Hell, I am not watching the silent movie to compare the two. Since I'm told that a good chunk of folks prefer the silent version, I would rather split the difference and say that a 8/10 for Blackmail works for either movie.

The Lady from Shanghai.

Review #2373: The Lady from Shanghai.

Cast: 

Rita Hayworth (Elsa "Rosalie" Bannister; singing voice by Anita Kert Ellis), Orson Welles (Michael O'Hara), Everett Sloane (Arthur Bannister), Glenn Anders (George Grisby), Ted de Corsia (Sidney Broome), Erskine Sanford (Judge), Gus Schilling ("Goldie" Goldfish), Carl Frank (District Attorney Galloway), Louis Merrill (Jake), Evelyn Ellis (Bessie), Harry Shannon (Cab Driver), and Wong Chung (Li) Produced and Directed by Orson Welles (#200 - Citizen Kane, #1366 - The Stranger)

Review: 

Sure, let's talk about Orson Welles. Citizen Kane (1941) is probably the most electrifying debut for any director to start out with, much less make for a career, and the fame it gained later is endless. But, well, one film does not define a career, so what happened next? Welles had his next film with The Magnificent Ambersons in 1942, complete with a mansion set that apparently had walls that could be rolled or lowered to deal with the camera. Unfortunately, Welles did not have the final cut privilege that cut the movie pretty down, but even in an edited form, people still like to talk about the movie. For a few years, Welles acted in film along with doing plenty of work in radio before he came back into directing with The Stranger, released in 1946 to general success (so much so that you can even find the movie in the public domain). For this movie, apparently it came at the behest of needing money. Specifically, Welles was directing a musical with Around the World and asked Harry Cohn of Columbia Pictures if he could borrow money and in exchange would do a movie for no further fee. When it came to adaptation material, the movie is based on the 1938 novel If I Die Before I Wake, as originally written by Raymond Sherwood King. Apparently, William Castle had brought the book to the attention of Welles. Apparently, Cohn did not like the rough cut done by Welles (after shooting had ended in early 1947) and insisted on studio-reshoots (Cohn was not particularly big on a movie described in a Welles biography as having "expressly Brechtian aspirations" and apparently found the movie hard to comprehend) that inflated the budget to go along with extensive editing ordered that basically cut a sequence of mirrors from twenty minutes to about three (stills survive); William Castle, Charles Lederer, and Fletcher Markle apparently did uncredited work on the script. The movie indeed was shot in various locations, ranging from San Francisco to Acapulco and on the actual yacht Zaca. The result was a movie that was not particularly loved in America but found favor in Europe before getting people to look further into it in later years (as one does with certain "flops"). Welles would direct seven further movies (along with a special case and a documentary about one of his own films) in his lifetime. A remake was considered in the early 2000s but never got off the ground.

Sure, it is an oblique kind of noir, filled with varying moments of general interest in the ruminations that come with guilt and innocence. But it is a really entertaining movie that entraps you for 88 minutes with efficiency that comes in the web of mystery and strangeness present here. It is a dreamy doom that is all successful because of the efforts of Welles behind and ahead of the camera, one that keeps attention for most of its time not so much in where the plot is going to go but where the web is really going to end up with these people. Somehow, it never occurred to me that I hadn't watched a Rita Hayworth movie before. There were a handful of movies she became known for from Only Angels Have Wings (1939) to Separate Tables (1958), but Gilda (1946) was the one that most probably know because of her femme fatale role (the long and short version of Hayworth is that she was the daughter of dancers), although, well, this is a movie where her hair was cut short and bleached to be platinum blonde (evidently, Cohn was aghast at this decision). Her aura of mystery and wandering nature is pretty neat here though, hair or otherwise (I'll be real, I am not too big on appearances anyway, how do you think hair reflects on me?). She glides through the film with the efficiency of a jagged knife that you can understand in why someone would just drop themselves for (or in the case of Welles, narration for a good chunk of it). Sloane and Anders round out the important parts of the cast in worthwhile scuzzy jaggedness (the former was a noted regular actor on film/radio), popping in and out with resounding amusement at the absurd world one is inhabited in with dubious lawyers and weird ambitions. The movie benefits greatly from the on location filming, because, well, you can't have every noir involve the same four walls, locale does help. The courtroom stuff is probably the only part of the film that comes close to being sluggish, but the chase sequence to cap the movie off, complete with a devastatingly beautiful sequence of mirrors (which obviously people can recognize in other stuff that "borrowed" from it) that you really need to see for yourself. The ending closes it all down in a sort of irony that could only come in wanting to ensure that even getting to live is not the way to total freedom. As a whole, this is a fun movie, bewildering in its strange scenarios and webs with committed people to hold it all together that is more than just a studio-cut movie but a curiosity all on its own.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Boomerang! (1947)

Review #2372: Boomerang! (1947)

Cast: 

Dana Andrews (State's Attorney Henry L. Harvey), Jane Wyatt (Madge Harvey), Lee J. Cobb (Chief Harold F. "Robby" Robinson), Cara Williams (Irene Nelson), Arthur Kennedy (John Waldron), Sam Levene (Dave Woods), Taylor Holmes (T. M. Wade), Robert Keith ("Mac" McCreery), Ed Begley (Paul Harris), and Karl Malden (Det. Lt. White) Directed by Elia Kazan (#104 - East of Eden, #109 - A Streetcar Named Desire, #110 - On the Waterfront, #1375 - Panic in the Streets, #1406 - Splendor in the Grass)

Review: 

"I really will be able to do this picture the way I think pictures should be made. It was our neo-realism."

Sure, it's easy to forget that some movies really can play fast and loose with facts. Here we have Elia Kazan's third feature film as a director, which came in the wake of his debut two years prior in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945). 1947 actually brough three different movies for Kazan as a director: The Sea of Grass (1947) was an MGM Western featuring Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn that for some reason managed to have Kazan express his dislike in later years. Gentleman's Agreement, released in November of 1947, wound up winning Kazan an Academy Award for directing. But Boomerang! (which as with Gentleman was released by Fox) was the second movie to come through for audiences, being released in March of 1947. The movie took its material from a 1945 article in The Reader's Digest called "The Perfect Case", which had been written by Fulton Oursler based on an actual crime that happened in 1924; Richard Murphy wrote the film script. In that year, in the city of Bridgeport in Connecticut, after eight days of anguish over the murder of Father Hubert Dahme, Harold Israel, a vagrant, was arrested and charged for the murder. Israel had given a confession and had been found with a revolver, but through the efforts of state attorney in Fairfield County Homer Stille Cummings, Israel was found innocent, and the indictment was dropped*. Cummings in general was a fascinating person: the Yale graduate actually had served as Mayor of Stamford, Connecticut for four years in the 1900s and he later served in committee work with the national Democratic Party. And, true to the end of the movie, Cummings actually did become U.S. Attorney General, serving six years from 1933 to 1939 (among the things he did in office was make bank robbery a federal crime). Israel essentially faded away into history, dying in the mid 1960s, although he was reported as having been married with children years after being freed, although the case was never solved. He wasn't particularly big on the first two movies he did when it came to their production style (done entirely on sound stages), but the chance to do shooting in Stamford, Connecticut interested him, since Kazan stated that at the time, he "shared the appetites" of neorealist filmmakers (such as Vittorio De Sica with Shoeshine, for example); a few non-professional actors are present in some shots. Kazan's next movie would be Pinky (1949); of his first five films, apparently, he was only big on A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

Technically the movie is cited as being a "semi documentary", which is probably helped by the narration heard every so often from Reed Hadley, who had been used to narrate prior films such as The House on 92nd Street (1945) (the narrative touch was big with producer Louis de Rochemont, who was involved with documentary stuff). This is the kind of movie that probably would be interesting to compare with Kazan's subsequent Panic in the Streets (1950) in straight to the bone procedurals. Kazan wasn't as fond of Boomerang! in his later years, basically calling it "the same studio machine - brought outdoors", but he at least stated his learned certain little tricks and techniques because of making the movie (he also once stated he could do a film anywhere and didn't need sets or movie stars). Sure, maybe the actors are still "movie actors", but at least there is an interesting atmosphere of doubts and failings, where a murder investigation turns itself into a city-wide infection that leaves only the reporters with any sort of satisfaction at the end of things. The police** don't win in the end and even the people that knew the victim don't win any sense of peace in the end, suffice to say. Andrews is pretty reliable in uncomplicated feelings that arise in not rolling with just being a cog in the machine of others around them, which works out for the usual reliable presence you would hope for. Cobb probably sticks out just as much in what he gets from his routines, one who shows the weary nature that comes from pressure that probably works the best among the cast, although Kennedy makes for a useful near-sacrificial lamb in worried nature. Of course, the 88-minute runtime does mean there are moments spent with other people about stuff tangentially related to the murder, specifically with Begley and the conniving nature that comes in bits and parts before it literally shoots itself for the climax. Sure, it doesn't have as much power as it likely could have (Williams comes to mind in that regard), but the routines with the ins and outs of the world of people is interesting enough to hold the movie down to at least some fascination. Sure, Kazan may be a bit hard on himself with his own assessment, but it is at least a solid movie to recommend for those who like an old-fashioned yarn.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Strangely, I am reminded of another actual case involving coerced confessions and Connecticut with Peter Reilly, who in 1973 was convicted of murder at the age of 18 when cops essentially lied to and coerced him to confess by refusing to let him sleep in a long interrogation - this was a case that happened in the 1970s, mind you.

**Remember: don't fuck around if in the web of a cop, whether that means knowing your rights and asking for a lawyer. Peter Reilly became a reform advocate, particularly for a bill in his state named SB1071. This was a bill trying to curb on deceptive tactics by cops for people under the age of 18, and go figure, not every state has this on their books, but Connecticut now does. See, I don't hate cops, I just know they can give you bad juju if something is in the wrong place.

The Professionals (1966).

Review #2371: The Professionals.

Cast: 

Burt Lancaster (Bill Dolworth), Lee Marvin (Henry "Rico" Fardan), Claudia Cardinale (Maria Grant), Robert Ryan (Hans Ehrengard), Woody Strode (Jake Sharp), Jack Palance (Jesus Raza), Ralph Bellamy (Joe Grant), Joe De Santis (Ortega), Rafael Bertrand (Fierro), Maria Gomez (Chiquita), and Jorge Martínez de Hoyos (Padillia) Written for the Screen and Directed by Richard Brooks (#871 - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, #1033 - Dollars, #1426 - In Cold Blood)

Review: 

Admittedly, it does help to highlight a director that likes to have it their way as writer and/or producer too, particularly one as fiery and as less covered as I would like to admit. Richard Brooks was actually a reporter before he became interested in the film industry, and it served him well to serve in the Marine Corps film unit in World War II because his debut novel (you might know it as Crossfire [1947]) got him attention in actually being sought for writing in film, most notably with uncredited work with The Killers (1946) and collaboration on Key Largo (1948). He became writer/director with Crisis (1950) at MGM and honed his talent there, culminating with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), one of his numerous adaptations of previous material. He struck forward with other studios and won with Elmer Gantry (1960), which won him an Academy Award for his script. Two films later (Sweet Bird of Youth (1962), Lord Jim [1965]), here we are with another adaptation of previous material, in this case being the 1964 novel A Mule for the Marquesa, by Frank O'Rourke (O'Rourke was a regular writer of Western books, with The Bravados (1958) being among the first of his adapted into movies). The movie was shot in both California and Nevada (most notably with Death Valley). The result was a hit that garnered Brooks two Academy Award nominations. If any director had multiple peaks and valleys, Brooks likely reached his last peak with his next movie that arose in 1967 with In Cold Blood, as he directed six further movies in the next two decades.

Oh hell, you need to balance out the Westerns when travelling along the trail for curious entertainment, one that has two distinct halves that will hold one's attention with how much energy can be put on screen in such lean execution. Cliche as it sounds, this is clearly the work of a professional when it comes to establishing an entertaining ensemble (one that sure won't remind folks of say, The Magnificent Seven) and a locale that isn't lost among the peaks and valleys of dirt. It is a gritty and fun movie for its 117-minute run-time, suffice to say. It is a pal's kind of movie, not one where one ego just overshadows the other, but if we are being fair, Marvin fits the movie like a glove. There is something about Marvin* that inspires a smile with how one just rolls with him to lead a movie with such an understated charm that might as well have come right down from his days playing hardboiled guys that doesn't have to say much to just make one roll with things. Of course, Lancaster isn't too far behind in wise-ass charm, he just happens to be shrouded in curiosity in following along with being part of the kicking-ass nature and causing mayhem. Ryan and Strode round out the core four with their own entertaining qualities (even with both past their fifties, one can see an ass-kicker there, basically) while Cardinale and Palance fill the sides with commitment that show the actual sides to a frontier closing in on people where people will die for their commitment to a cause because of the passion they yearn to show. Bellamy is the right kind of craven outsider needed to start and end the movie. Being trapped in peaks and valleys roll well with the mayhem created in just letting things fly with relatively colorful people to hold it. By the time one gets to the ending, you might see a movie that strains to really hold it all together, but it does work out to see the culmination of making a choice on conviction rather than by simple order. In that sense, this is a neat movie, maybe not a great Western but a worthwhile ensemble movie with worthwhile people all around to make it worth your while.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*You might want to know that would be Academy Award winning Lee Marvin, as the previous year saw the release of Cat Ballou (1965), which saw him win for Best Actor. Incidentally, Marvin and Ryan teamed up the next year for The Dirty Dozen in another movie about colorful characters and guns, guns, guns.

A Slight Case of Murder.

Review #2370: A Slight Case of Murder.

Cast: 

Edward G. Robinson (Remy Marco), Jane Bryan (Mary Marco), Allen Jenkins (Mike), Ruth Donnelly (Nora Marco), Willard Parker (Dick Whitewood), John Litel (Mr. Post, banker), Edward Brophy (Lefty), Harold Huber (Giuseppe 'Gip'), Eric Stanley (Mr. Ritter, banker), Paul Harvey (Mr. Whitewood), and Margaret Hamilton (Mrs. Cagle) Directed by Lloyd Bacon (#562 - It Happens Every Spring, #898 - Larceny, Inc, #1340 - 42nd Street)

Review: 

Edward G. Robinson doing comedy isn't too out of left field, really. Actually, Roy Del Ruth had directed him in 1933's The Little Giant (which dealt with a bootlegger trying to go into the legit business) and John Ford had directed him in a crime comedy with 1935's The Whole Town's Talking, which dealt with a lookalike killer. A Slight Case of Murder is based on the 1935 play of the same name, which had been created by Damon Runyon (the famed writer and his one attempt at making a play) and Howard Lindsay (who actually became noted for his work in Broadway plays and musicals with Russel Crouse beginning in 1935). Earl Baldwin and Joseph Schrank were credited for the script behind this movie. Incidentally, Bacon (a very busy director in the 1930s, he apparently made over three dozen movies in that decade)* and Robinson would team up again with a gangster-related comedies with Brother Orchid (1940, which had Baldwin as a writer) and Larceny, Inc (1942), which is probably the more famous Robinson movie about a convict trying to go straight. Incidentally, Roy Del Ruth would direct a remake of A Slight Case of Murder with Stop, You're Killing Me (1952), which starred Broderick Crawford.

With a plot involving a bunch of corpses turning up in the middle of foreclosure and a cop for a possible son-in-law, you've got plenty here for a neat little comedy, even with the apparent age on display in terms of its subject matter. Every so often, I have to remember that there was some pretty crappy beer people had to deal in the old days (as opposed to now, I suppose). To be honest, even with the amount of movies that I've seen with Robinson in the cast (ten, now), I sometimes think I haven't given him his proper due as an actor, and this is saying something for a guy who honed his talents for several years on Broadway and thrived when it came to dramas, particularly since he had the temperament to sell damn near anything, from the tough guy role to the biopic (sure, that doesn't include dancing, but who's asking?). He clearly seems to be having fun here, having the talent to make the hijinks bounce off him with useful timing without turning it into straight farce or just being the straight man to strange stuff, he just happens to be involved in a silly little dark comedy that won't have too much violence but will have enough silly shifty people for 85 minutes. Donnelly pops into the action with attempts at playing natural class that results in a few chuckles, although the cast of goons-turned-assistants such as Jenkins and Brophy are worth a few laughs as well. The buildup to resolve the dead body problem is pretty amusing if not a bit abrupt (seriously it goes from calling the cops to fainting like that). These are the kind of movies that could be stamped out a dime a dozen in the old days that will work exactly for those who like something that will deliver most of the time with colorful enough people and execution in a specific age and place (dated or not) that you could call the epitome of "quick yarn". Hit or miss, you won't have your time wasted here, suffice to say. As a whole, if you are in the mood for Edward G. Robinson and a bit of silly fun with a quick pace and resourceful company around him, you will find a neat little movie here to enjoy from the old years.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Welcome to the four-timer club, Lloyd Bacon.

The Milky Way (1936).

Review #2369: The Milky Way.

Cast: 

Harold Lloyd (Burleigh "Tiger" Sullivan), Adolphe Menjou (Gabby Sloan), Verree Teasdale (Ann Westley), Helen Mack (Mae Sullivan), William Gargan (Speed McFarland), George Barbier (Wilbur Austin), Dorothy Wilson (Polly Pringle), Lionel Stander (Spider Schultz), and Marjorie Gateson (Winthrop Lemoyne) Directed by Leo McCarey (#085 - Duck Soup, #1350 - Love Affair, #1394 - An Affair to Remember)

Review: 

It does hurt, in a sense, to reach the near end of the Harold Lloyd run. The Milky Way was the fifth sound movie that he starred in, which if you remember correctly, were not exactly comparable to his silent output in terms of audience appeal. By this point, he wasn't even the producer of his own movies and now he was 43 (to say nothing of the fact that every movie made after 1919 was done with a special glove to hide the fact that he had just eight fingers). The year after this movie was released, Lloyd sold the land of his studio to the Latter-day Saints, and the year after that saw him star in his last sound movie for nearly ten years. With this movie, it was based off Lynn Root & Harry Clork's 1934 play of the same name*, and three screenwriters are credited with this adaptation: Grover Jones, Frank Butler**, and Richard Connell. Evidently the movie was the byproduct of casting shuffles, as apparently it was originally developed in mind with Jack Oakie to star, and somehow Ida Lupino was in talks to play the role ultimately played by Dorothy Wilson before Lupino got sick and bowed out. This was the tenth of thirteen movies that McCarey made in the 1930s, one made in between Ruggles of Red Gap [1935] and Make Way for Tomorrow [1937] (incidentally, McCarey actually was the son of a fight promoter; the USC law school graduate even tried boxing before trying his hand at getting involved with film and went from gagman to director). A handful of cast mates and McCarey got sick during production and apparently it fell to Norman Z. McLeod and Ray McCarey to shoot a few sequences (uncredited). The play has been filmed one time since, with The Kid from Brooklyn (1946), as produced by Samuel Goldwyn with Danny Kaye in the lead role of a musical comedy (Lionel Stander happened to appear in both movies). As you might expect from the old days of trying to corner the market, Goldwyn had purchased the original negative of the 1936 movie, pulled them from circulation and nearly every print in order to destroy them. Of course, he didn't get all of them, and the best version of the movie actually is one that came from a print preserved by Lloyd himself. 

It does help to have some zip for a comedy, yes. The last of his sound movies with The Cat's Paw (1934) was relatively successful in having a pairing of Lloyd with an established supporting presence (George Barbier) that wasn't about just bumbling around with middle-ground romance, and even Movie Crazy (1932) had some promise too. The 88-minute runtime for this movie basically leaves the film with two distinct segments: Lloyd doing Lloyd elements (to a point) and the attempts at verbal jabs and occasional visual stuff. The movie does pretty well, for the most part, mostly because it has the composure of confidence for both filmmaker and in cast, mainly because it isn't just bumbling around with misunderstandings (it instead plays on one guy trying to hustle both the media and a fighter) that might be Lloyd's most accomplished movie since oh, probably Speedy (1928). You've got a guy being trained to fight by playing it tune to the waltz and antics with a horse to go with brief interludes in the ring (and a horse, I suppose). I like the distinct difference Lloyd gets to play before and after getting in the ring in terms of heightened confidence. Menjou and Stander makes their moments count with such worthy timing in terms of huckster pride (with the latter having a voice practically made for it) that keeps the movie fresh beyond just looking at Lloyd or the varying moments spent around Teasdale, Mack, or Wilson (who are equally fine). While you might know just what is coming around the corner for a chunk of its tenure, there is still enough interest generated by the energy that is present on screen, such as with its resourcefully quick ending to generate a worthwhile ending. As a whole, Lloyd's one play at the screwball movie with McCarey in tow is a fine one, having enough fun with antics and a game cast to make a worthwhile curiosity worth looking into.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*It's funny to be semi-reminded of Battling Butler (1926), which dealt with Buster Keaton playing a guy being involved with a deception involving boxing, although that was based on its own play and is clearly distinct from The Milky Way; by coincidence, Chaplin also did a boxing sequence with City Lights (1931). But hey, never hurts to name drop.

**That would future Academy Award-winning writer Frank Butler to go along with future Academy Award winning director/writer McCarey, as Butler's collaboration with Frank Cavett for the screenplay to McCarey's Going My Way [1944] won an Academy Award, although that was a weird year in general, because McCarey's story for the film also wound up getting him an Academy Award for "Best Story" which well, goes to show what awards come and go.

Bad Day at Black Rock.

Review #2368: Bad Day at Black Rock.

Cast: 

Spencer Tracy (John J. Macreedy), Robert Ryan (Reno Smith), Anne Francis (Liz Wirth), Dean Jagger (Sheriff Tim Horn), Walter Brennan (Doc Velie), John Ericson (Pete Wirth), Ernest Borgnine (Coley Trimble), Lee Marvin (Hector David), Russell Collins (Mr Hastings), and Walter Sande (Sam, the diner owner) Directed by John Sturges (#427 - The Magnificent Seven, #1395 - Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, #1412 - The Great Escape)

Review: 

As one might expect, the genesis for the film came from a story adaptation. Howard Breslin had wrote a short story called "Bad Time at Honda" that was initially published by The American Magazine in 1947. Apparently, Don McGuire was sent to do a screenplay of the film with Joel McCrea in mind to star as an indie or MGM production. Somehow the progression of directors in mind went from George Sidney to Richard Brooks to the final choice, John Sturges (director of such previous films as Mystery Street [1950] and Kind Lady [1951]), while Millard Kaufman was hired by MGM to rewrite the script (both Kaufman and McGuire were credited for the script). Regardless of how old Spencer Tracy was at the time of filming (54), MGM (specifically Dore Schary, near the end of his little run in heading production there) got what they wanted with him as the lead, with the apparent drawing element being that he would be playing one-armed man (well that and apparently jumping at the film when he was told that they were considering Alan Ladd); it would end up being the last movie Tracy made for the studio. The movie was a general hit with audiences and earned its director, star, and writer Academy Award nominations.

For what we say about the past and what we say about present and the ever-unknown future, it is important sometimes to have a movie that reminds one of the times where people made profoundly stupid mistakes. The advent of World War II led to paranoia and probably one of the worst decisions made by an administration in wartime: forcible relocation and incarceration of over 120,000 people of Japanese descent that lasted for several years. Here we have a movie with a slow boil about what happens when people have gotten too comfortable with what they have done (or watched others do) and react to "outsiders" trying to pry things into the light. Sure, it is a crime drama movie, but there are those elements of the Western and noir present even within the vast scale that arises in CinemaScope with a particular setting that might make for a worthwhile pairing with say, High Noon (1952). With our "stranger" character that will arrive just as quickly as he will depart, how many movies have someone go up and compare them to a disease? (the answer is not too many, probably). But the tension and all-around terror that comes through here is a movie that is not afraid to simply let you broil with these crude people because you might recognize that at some point in time, they were as normal as you or me. Now they find that plugging one's ears to the drums of doubt is preferable more than anything, which is quite an unsettling thought, particularly since our one-armed lead is really just a man of the ordinary type of honor: being curious. In that sense, Tracy mines it for all it is worth, approaching folks with an unnerving sort of charm that has the audience watching with intent curiosity (mainly because when thinking of how one would do when thrust into the same spot, one probably has escape on their mind). One just sees a man when they see Tracy, with the whole one-armed thing not coming off as a gimmick and the age just seems to be a number, particularly when it comes to that one particular bar fight, which is an astounding one in its cut-rate efficiency. And then of course there is the cast around him*, who each excel in their own ways of unsettling nature. Ryan in particular is a devilishly terrific adversary, one with such an unsettling nature that comes with bubbling hatred that is quite unsettling to see in all of its layers, and the fact that he played so many hardened folks doesn't make it any less effective. Marvin and Borgnine make for quality heavies to see in the landscape, grim and worthy enough to match against Tracy, while Jagger and Ericson make for quality weak-willed people that are probably closer to reality than any of us would like to admit (i.e. folks who yield to what they see with their own eyes). Brennan closes it out with conviction in his wavering apathy. Regardless of what you might see coming from the film (look how many surprises can you think of for a movie in the 1950s), it still makes for a quality punch when it arrives at its departure point in all-around truth. In general, it is a tight 81-minute feature that manages to carefully reveal the unsettling qualities that arises in unchecked values in the name of "loyalty" that is startling in its effective execution with worthwhile presences and direction to steer it all together.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

*Incidentally, there is quite a load of talent of the movie that seems curious to mention. Tracy you probably already know as an Academy Award winner (twice), but you've also got a three-time winner with Brennan, future winners with Marvin and Borgnine (who won it in 1955 with Marty), a nominee with Ryan, and a previous winner with Jagger.

Sinners (2025).

Review #2367: Sinners.

Cast: 

Michael B. Jordan (Elijah "Smoke" and Elias "Stack"), Hailee Steinfeld (Mary), Miles Caton (Sammie Moore), Jack O'Connell (Remmick), Wunmi Mosaku (Annie), Jayme Lawson (Pearline), Omar Benson Miller (Cornbread), Li Jun Li (Grace Chow), Delroy Lindo (Delta Slim), Yao (Bo Chow), Lola Kirke (Joan), Peter Dreimanis (Bert), with Sam Williams (Jedidiah), and Buddy Guy. Written and Directed by Ryan Coogler (#760 - Creed and #1050 - Black Panther)

Review:

“This film is very much me. I love anything supernatural. I’m in. I like stories about communities, about neighborhoods, about archetypes. And I love period anything. So, when you layer those things together, that does it for me.”

It sure is interesting to have a horror movie where an actor gets to sink their teeth in playing multiple roles, isn't it? This is the fifth feature film from Ryan Coogler, who had made his debut as a filmmaker with Fruitvale Station (2013) that incidentally had Michael B. Jordan as the lead (that film dealt with the shooting of Oscar Grant). Apparently, the time to make the movie from pitch to production in less than six months that had shooting on IMAX cameras; it is a co-production of Proximity Media, which I did not realize was founded a few years by the Cooglers. It was after the press tour of the second Black Panther film (2022) had ended that saw Coogler come up with the premise, in which spending time resting with Blues music reminded him of his uncle from Mississippi, stating that listening to the music felt like a way to try and bring him back to life, in a sense. After a bidding war ended with Warner Bros. distributing it, the movie was shot in roughly three months last year for apparently over $90 million and had the pleasure of not being delayed so one could theoretically watch it on Easter weekend (and, for whatever reason, in 25 years Coogler will have the rights to the film reverted to him).

Really the movie is more about community and family than just a straight vampire movie, although From Dusk till Dawn (1996) comes to mind (well, the idea of vampires having a certain type of link reminds me of Vampires [1998], but you can argue with me later). The enjoyment of the movie comes from seeing the gradual peeling of familiar layers in a slow boil of 137 minutes (complete with a certain surprise in its credits), although it probably helps to go into it with as little knowledge as possible. Sure, knowing it has vampires sure is something, because, well, don't be mad that a movie with vampires has vampires, but there is an attempt to have a worthwhile period adventure that has accompanying music for a fusion that does lend for a entertaining atmosphere. Sure, it probably is a bit too long when trying to wrap its ending up, but it will make a solid movie to at least pop in one time if you're into it. It is a movie that shows salvation with the power of making choices for oneself, which in this case means the power of music for one's soul.* The decisions made at the end of the movie are about choices made willingly without settling as some sort of "escape". The film has two actors to hold the movie in viewing the lines of music, power, and some sort of faith: Jordan and Caton (the son of gospel singer Timiney Figueroa, making his debut). Jordan gets a role that might as well be one for a lifetime: playing two folks with their distinct levels of charm within the veneer of tragedy that clearly has shaped them. It isn't merely a gimmick, he manages to make the twins distinct people that are interesting to see in their urges play out (sure, the first half of the film does split them up so one can see distinct interactions, but you get the idea). Caton plays the coming-of-age-turned-survival role with no shakiness, which means a good deal of energy and timing, particularly since it involves the blues that he handles with useful presence that doesn't fade in the background with such a stacked cast. Steinfeld** plays it generally well with the confidence that comes in sorrow that is rooted in love even when the time comes for, well, vampire glee in the eyes. Truthfully, the highlight in the supporting cast is Lindo, who is given a pretty familiar character type in "lovable drunk" that he handles with warmth that makes you smile each time he pops up on screen, although Mosaku makes a go at it with earthy presence when paired with Jordan. O'Connell makes a fine adversarial presence, one that manages to achieve some of the qualities that basically plays it as if vampirism could be its own type of religion or cult that could be an escape from problems (read: Mississippi, October 1932), complete with knowing one's memories as if it was in their own blood. It probably isn't as defined as much as it could be to really make this more than "pretty good", but the pursuit of music and "community" is interesting enough to hold the movie's second half to a certain point. The movie gets wrapped up with tidiness that wants to make it so things are pretty sealed up with each of its three characters that will leave the viewer with general satisfaction (whether it needed a certain beat to happen though is up to the viewer) with the choices that are made willingly in the name of, well, love. As a whole, Sinners is the kind of movie with commitment and energy to its subject matter of Deep South, blues, and blood that might deserve further watches down the line for what it brings to the table in style and charm.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.***

*Noted president of the Josh Allen Fan Club, among other things. Sorry, I couldn't resist, although I'll give you a link anyway.

**Okay, I will admit that the music montage...is one I had to step out in the middle of it happening because I had to pee, but I imagine that might be the standout sequence for some people.

***Correction time. On the previous review of The Family Jewels, a clerical error (i.e. idiot mistake) has now been fixed, in which that movie is a 6/10 rather than the 7/10 I accidentally scribbled first. Also, with Sinners, it is more of a 8.5/10 but I'm not sure whether to actually go with .5 ratings yet, and it seemed best to round up and maybe come back to it later.

The Family Jewels.

Review #2366: The Family Jewels.

Cast: 

Jerry Lewis (Willard Woodward / James Peyton / Everett Peyton / Julius Peyton / Capt. Eddie Peyton / Skylock Peyton / Bugsy Peyton), Donna Butterworth (Donna Peyton), Sebastian Cabot (Dr. Matson), Neil Hamilton (Attorney), Jay Adler (Mr. Lyman, Attorney), Anne Baxter (Actress in In-Flight Movie), Ellen Corby (Senior Citizen Airline Passenger), and Gene Baylos (Circus Clown) Directed by Jerry Lewis (#963 - The Nutty Professor [1963], #1404 - The Bellboy, #1710 - The Patsy)

Review: 

It's interesting, I had this movie on a DVD pack for several years and I can't exactly say that there were interesting reasons to get around to this movie. The Family Jewels was the sixth feature film directed by Jerry Lewis (of twelve in his career, with all but one having him as the star), which happens to be a bit of a swan song. It was the fifth (of seven) time he co-wrote the screenplay with Bill Richmond. It was the last one he directed for Paramount Pictures, as he would leave for Columbia Pictures the following year. In what might be a bit familiar for those who see enough comedies, you have our lead playing multiple characters (as evidenced by previous efforts such as The Nutty Professor and The Ladies Man), as one does when having a movie about a kid having to visit uncles and "choose" which one to live with (the uncles I suppose have no recourse to have a say), and it can't simply just be the family chaffeur. Opposite Lewis is Donna Butterworth, who starred in exactly one other film with Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966). The movie made some money and probably didn't attract as much praise or criticism as one might read from the early (or late) parts of Lewis as a director, suffice to say*.

If you're big with Lewis movies, you might or might not find a bit of enjoyment even with a second-rate effort that is found here with a movie (runtime: 99 minutes) that is hit-or-miss with its gags because of the fact that it really is just a series of vignettes with little to really show besides Lewis in a costume and Butterworth making small observations. It basically could be construed as a coin-flip of what you might like from characters that are so, so, so clear to pick out from: a sea captain with a, um, interesting facial getup and a "story", a circus clown that actually sounds like Lewis not just doing a bit (which of course isn't there long), a photographer character that looks and sounds like Buddy Kelp (get it, because now he just take photos rather than being a professor?), a bumbling pilot in a plane (Ford Trimotor) more rare than the successful gags in the sequence, a detective character that gets, well, "Sherlocky" on a pool game, and a gangster character with goofy teeth. It really is hard to say in so many words the level of varying middle-ground stuff that comes from a movie that clearly has so many characters to try and hide the fact that this probably would barely hold mustard as a TV special. It is the kind of movie where you might start lifting your hand up in the "move on already" motion, because there can only be so many chances at sight gags (so basically, swing, whiff, swing, whiff, whiff, swing, whiff). Sometimes I was wondering if the movie would've somehow been funnier if it focused on either the Sherlock character or the decidedly non-happy clown entirely, because at least those would've invited the possibility of actually having more of someone like Hamilton (pictured one year before being Commissioner Gordon on the famed Batman show) or Adler for more than five minutes**. Butterworth is fine, but she doesn't exactly have much to do besides what you might call "plucky kid stuff", because this is a movie that loves its cheap gags to observe Lewis with, such as say, in-flight entertainment being affected by the turbulence of the plane or a military parade being shifted around or a car station having hijinks. To say nothing of the sheer predictable ending. Honestly, the more I think about the movie, the less I find myself liking it, really, because it stuck less and less in my mind when trying to make this review, and I generally think that if I don't feel like watching it again, it doesn't qualify enough to be thought of as a "good" movie. With that in mind, your milage will vary with a later-stage Lewis movie that just wasn't for me because sometimes, "hit-or-miss" just isn't enough.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

*Maybe this is petty, but in the opening, Lewis is seen with a Dodgers cap on a Giants jersey. Jeez, man.

**If someone actually times how long Hamilton or Adler are in this movie, you get a gold star.

Blue Chips.

Review #2365: Blue Chips.

Cast: 

Nick Nolte (Coach Pete Bell), Mary McDonnell (Jenny Bell), J. T. Walsh ("Happy" Kuykendahl), Ed O'Neill (Ed Axelby), Alfre Woodard (Lavada McRae), Bob Cousy (Vic Roker), Larry Bird (himself), Matt Nover (Ricky Roe), Shaquille O'Neal (Neon Boudeaux), Anfernee "Penny" Hardaway (Butch McRae), Anthony C. Hall (Tony), Marques Johnson (Mel), Robert Wuhl (Marty), Cylk Cozart ("Slick"), with Jim Beaver (Ricky's Dad), and Louis Gossett Jr. (Father Dawkins) Directed by William Friedkin (#037 - The Exorcist, #1438 - The French Connection, #1477 - To Live and Die in L.A., #2085 - Sorcerer)

Review: 

 “It wasn’t going to be the way coaches have been played in the past—you know, usually as the wise father figure. This guy was a deeply troubled man. That’s how I looked at Bobby, and that’s how I looked at this character. He had this overwhelming desire to win at any cost.”

There is a certain curiosity that comes to this film, really. This was the second of three movies that William Friedkin would direct in the 1990s, which you might remember included such works as The Guardian (1990) and Jade (1995). Oh, but this was a movie produced and written by none other than Ron Shelton, who you might remember was behind the scripts/directing of films such as Bull Durham [1988]* and White Man Can't Jump [1992] (fun fact: one scene in the original script of Blue Chips proved an inspiration for Jump). Apparently, the project had been in development hell since 1981, although it should be mentioned that Tates Locke claimed that the movie actually took inspiration from his 1982 book Caught in the Net (as co-written with Bob Ibach) that had detailed the offenses of Locke as a head coach at Clemson in the late 1970s (ironically, Bob Knight actually was set to write the introduction to the book but rejected it because he took the book as saying "that everybody cheats", which he disagreed with)**. Shelton couldn't direct the movie due to his involvement with Cobb (1994), but Friedkin's love for basketball got him interested in the project (he even got to direct his basketball idol in Bob Cousy). The movie was not a big success with audiences at the time (he was once quoted as saying that he couldn't overcome the difficulty of capturing "the excitement of a real game, with its own unpredictable dramatic structure and suspense"), but time has probably rewarded those who consider that college sports has only recently moved into the "NIL era" in which, well, now college athletes can control and profit from their name, image, and likeness. Timely or not, consider that one of the coaches appearing in the national championship game this year involved a coach in Kelvin Sampson who once endured a show-cause order that meant he couldn't coach in college for five years for a select group of violations committed under his watch.

The game of college basketball has never been particularly squeaky clean, anyway. Amateur athletes in the NCAA had interesting definitions when you consider the guy (Walter Byers) who created the term "student-athlete" also once called a team as doing “ghetto run-and-shoot basketball” (Jerry Tarkanian, coach of said team and justifiably hated Byers, happens to appear in this film)***. Scandals evolved from point shaving to slush funds. Blue Chips (1994) could not foresee the absurdity that arose with scandals involving universities and athletes, in which one school was accused of procuring a madam for athletes (which led to Rick Pitino being fired) and a murder that led to an actual scandal. So here we are with a movie about a man that rips himself apart in a decidedly non-heroic movie. But the movie is honest about where certain people in higher places are in terms of values: in the toilet. Cynicism runs free because the pursuit of the almighty victory (and dollar) has never been more blatant and, well, celebrated. Nolte actually shadowed Bobby Knight and went to practices and games. He pulls off a tremendous performance, riding the line of perceived morals with commitment that isn't just an impersonation or bluster for the sake of it. It happens to be a part with amusement in cynicism, as evidenced by how he says he happens to be a religious type that changes from recruitment to recruitment. By the time he gets to the last game, the juxtaposition of him versus Knight might as well be looking at a mirror (incidentally, Knight is only caught in barely audible dialogue, he apparently was mic'd up but said too many profanities). Walsh is the other highlight, managing to evoke great adversarial power that handles people as if they were commodities (with the exception of the climax, of course). The rest are fine, whether that is an ordinary but committed McDonnell, the delightfully cynical (if not underused) O'Neill or adequate work from actual athletes trying to do both basketball and acting - O'Neal is not in it that much, but he is quite engaging while Cousy plays the "wool over the eyes" just fine. The movie can't exactly capture all the fun and tension from seeing an actual basketball game, but it does leave one with a rush with what they see (particularly for those who recognize cameos such as Dick Vitale). The 108 minute runtime manages to make an effort in seeing the extent one could actually lose (or lie to) themselves in trying to win at all costs. As a whole, it is a committed Friedkin movie in charm and execution that is at least honest enough to prove a watch for the energy drawn out by Nolte in a morality tale that still has a resourceful bite to it. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Happy Monday and Go Cougars. If you want to hear more about college basketball movies, try Glory Road (2006).

*See, by having these little notes in the bottom, I save space in the actual review by not referring to Bull Durham as overrated. 

**By that point in time, Bobby Knight had already done such lovely things as hitting a head coach in the back of the head (Joe B. Hall) and choked and punched a sports information director. Never let anyone tell you about the glories of Bobby Knight without saying how much of a miserable human being he was.

***Tarkanian sued the NCAA a few times, fun fact.