Honor Among Lovers.

Review #2522: Honor Among Lovers.

Cast:

Claudette Colbert (Julia Traynor), Fredric March (Jerry Stafford), Monroe Owsley (Philip Craig), Charles Ruggles (Monty Dunn), Ginger Rogers (Doris Brown), Avonne Taylor (Maybelle Worthington), Pat J. O'Brien (Conroy), Janet McLeary (Margaret Newton), and Ralph Morgan (Riggs) Directed by Dorothy Arzner (#1648 - Sarah and Son, #1810 - Working Girls, #1992 - The Wild Party, #2187 - Christopher Strong, #2362 - Anybody's Woman)

I suppose the best way to start talking about the film is to let Arzner's words (conducted in the 1970s) about the movie: "I collaborated in the writing of Honor Among Lovers, which I made for Paramount in New York. As audiences were ready for more sophistication, it was considered the smartest high comedy at the time. No, there was no pressure regarding the script, I had very little interference with my pictures. Sometimes there were differences in casting, sets, or costumes, but usually I had my way. You see I was not dependent on the movies for my living, so I was always ready to give the picture over to some other director if I couldn’t make it the way I saw it. Right or wrong, I believe this was why I sustained so long––twenty years." This was the 8th credited feature film for Arzner as a director, right between Anybody's Woman (1930) and Working Girls (1931). There were apparently a few working titles with "Sex in Business", "Strictly Business", and "Another Man's Wife". This was the second pairing of Colbert and March, who first appeared together in Manslaughter (1930) (they appeared again with The Sign of the Cross [1932] and Tonight is Ours [1933]).

Okay, sure, an office triangle movie with a couple of future Academy Award winning actors involved*. It sounds like a pretty casual affair, particularly with a runtime of 75 minutes that basically coasts on just how much you yearn to see how one woman's choices create so many ripples for all involved. It's the type of movie that has its own little quirks for modern audiences, of course, mainly because the boss in the film is, well, a boss trying to strike up a romance with his secretary that decides that the best course of action after she gets married is to fire her. But at least he seems normal when compared to the other man in the triangle in Owsley, who was a stock theater troupe man before he got onto film (in the last days of silent film) that acted all the way until his death...at 36 in 1937 (from a heart attack, of all things). One can enjoy a little bit of ham-handedness (especially when representing the underrated aspect of a love triangle story: a guy who isn't actually that good at wooing). One thing comes to another and boom, suddenly you have folks trying to throw their significant other down the river for their foolishness. At least the movie isn't completely judgmental over the decisions made by its one key feminine presence (because if it was, the movie probably would hit the rails into melodrama to chuckle at). Colbert and March prove fairly dependable and have a bit of chemistry together to where it at least isn't too hard to see where they would actually grow up and want the other. As a whole, it's a decent movie that comes and goes with the relative craftsmanship that Arzner had honed down in less than five years as a director that just rolls with useful sophistication and perspective for human nature.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*March won his first Academy Award with his performance in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) while Colbert won her award with It Happened One Night (1934), and if you pay attention to the supporting roles, you'll see the future winner for Kitty Foyle (1940) in Ginger Rogers

Apologies, I forgot to include a song of the day for the previous review. So enjoy two: 

belated) Song of the day

and this song of the day!

Pardon Us.

Review #2484: Pardon Us.

Cast: 

Stan Laurel (Stan), Oliver Hardy (Ollie), Wilfred Lucas (Warden), June Marlowe (Warden's Daughter), James Finlayson (Schoolteacher), Walter Long (The Tiger), Tiny Sandford (Shields, Prison Guard), Otto Fries (Dentist), and Charlie Hall (Dentist's Assistant) Directed by James Parrott.

Review: 

Admittedly, I plain forgot to really check out the comedy duo of Laurel and Hardy. So, why not start with their first feature-length film?  British-born Stan Laurel had started on the stage at 16 and did work in music halls (Fred Karno was a particular influence on Laurel and the one he was an understudy to in Charlie Chaplin) and eventually ended up at the Roach studio as director/writer by the 1920s. As for Georgia-born Oliver Hardy, he was a stage singer-turned comedian that had thrived in Florida productions (such as playing second banana to Billy West [a Charlie Chaplin impersonator] shorts) before going to Hollywood to seek new chances. Officially, they became a team in 1927 with Putting Pants on Phillip; Leo McCarey is stated to have aided the duo in helping develop their format. Most of the work they did until 1950 on film was in shorts (totaling over 70, sound and silent), but they did do 23 feature films, mostly with Roach (who when he had a dispute with Laurel, he tried to pair Hardy with Harry Langdon with Zenobia) that went right down to their last in Atoll K (1951). The two even had time to appear on television before Hardy's health started to decline that saw him die in 1957 at the age of 65; Laurel did not appear on film or stage again. He was awarded an Honorary Academy Award in 1961, four years prior to his death at the age of 74.* There exist various versions of the film: a British cut (Jailbirds) lasts 41 minutes while the original release and reissue was 55 minutes, an extended cut lasted 64 minutes and the current DVD edition runs at 70. The funny thing is that there were also foreign-language editions of the film made with the same sets for Spanish, Italian, German, and French, although only the Spanish version survives (apparently, Boris Karloff appeared in the French version). 

Apparently, the 1930 film The Big House was a big enough hit that Roach wanted to a short film making fun of the prison drama and even wanted to use the same sets. MGM was fine with it...if the duo would do a feature for them. Roach decided instead to make a replica of the prison sets. The result was a film that went from a short to having enough material to just be a full-length film. Sure, it might be a bit dated, as evidenced by it being made when one could be arrested for selling beer (or the blackface bit, which happens midway through*). It's a pretty episodic (it was directed by James Parrott, one mostly versed in shorts, which included the future Academy Award-winning short The Music Box [1932]) and disjointed affair, but it can be enjoyable in parts for those in the mood for a bit of goofy fun. There's plenty to mine with a goofy tooth and a few silly scenarios involving the duo wandering through jail life. The duo basically glide through the film in setting up whatever gag is necessary that can be charming in its execution for mischief that basically comes and goes with timing you just don't see everyday. The jail sequences mostly come and go with a bit of chuckles, mostly with Long and his demeanor (Finlayson comes close, but there isn't anything that really just zings too highly or lowly for too long. In general, you have a movie that is fairly watchable and fairly on the level of having some goofs in a time where you could just roll with the gags and have a mostly pleasant experience seeing how it comes together with a game duo there to do it all.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Apparently, at the funeral, Buster Keaton stated that the funniest among them was not him or Chaplin but Laurel. Dick Van Dyke (December 13 will see him turn 100) even delivered a rendition of The Clown's Prayer.

*No, I did not intend to watch back-to-back movies where someone is in blackface. What the fuck?

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931).

Review #2103: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931).

Cast: 

Fredric March (Dr. Henry Jekyll / Mr. Edward Hyde), Miriam Hopkins (Ivy Pierson), Rose Hobart (Muriel Carew), Holmes Herbert (Dr. John Lanyon), Halliwell Hobbes (Brigadier-General Danvers Carew), Edgar Norton (Poole), and Tempe Pigott (Mrs. Hawkins) Directed by Rouben Mamoulian (#773 - Applause and #1869 - The Mark of Zorro [1940])

Review: 

Well, I'm sure you are familiar with at least one adaptation of the 1886 novella The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, as written by Robert Louis Stevenson. The novella was popular enough to inspire a stage play in 1887 by Thomas Russell Sullivan, who was asked to write it by actor Richard Mansfield because he was intrigued at the idea of playing two roles. In the 20th century, a handful of the Jekyll and Hyde films took their inspiration from the play, and the screenplay by Samuel Hoffenstein and Percy Heath here is not too different. Undeniably, this had been on my to-do list for quite a while, because how could I resist the urge to do a 1930s horror film made by a major studio that wasn't from Universal? The only other Jekyll film I watched was the 1920 edition with John Barrymore, but that was five years ago (incidentally, 1920 also saw the release of Der Januskopf, a F.W. Murnau production that had Conrad Veidt as the star that is unfortunately lost). Besides, the pre-Code era is never a bad one to look through when it comes to the days of getting in tune with "talkie" films and literary adaptations that engage in a degree of entertaining acting along with the fact that one could even see the film at all. Cuts had been made later in the decade for a re-issue due to the Code, but thankfully those scenes are still around. When MGM made their own version of the Hyde story in 1941, they had Victor Fleming as director and Spencer Tracy as the star while making sure to purchase the rights to the previous 1931 film and they basically hid it to avoid competition, which meant one couldn't really study it or rescreen it on a regular basis for the next two decades (ironic too, because the 1941 film is generally considered fairly inferior to the 1931 movie). Apparently, it was Mamoulian who suggested the use of March for the lead role rather than Paramount's idea of using Irving Pichel (or Barrymore, but he was busy at MGM) because he would be fine but "not handsome enough" for the role of Jekyll. The makeup was done by Wally Westmore, but the key element to the effects for transformation came with cinematographer Karl Struss, who noted the use of panchromatic film with differing color in makeup for certain filters to go with certain camera shots. He actually felt that the effect for Hyde looked too much like a monkey while wishing it was more of a psychological change with subtle effect for the change in the mental state. 

Eventually, one sees the deterioration that comes with the arrival of Hyde to the scene, which does make for a useful 98-minute venture of costume drama in atmospheric scares. It is the kind of thing one would retain in their memory to go along with other present 1931 novel "adaptations" with Frankenstein and Dracula (either version). Evidently, one sees March as Jekyll just a notch above when they see him as Hyde in terms of scenes/time, which manages to come off as two distinct people in the boisterous way that March plays his hand. The film isn't a stagy stodgy adaptation in part because the camera action is focused on establishing the tension that comes from a man waiting to burst out of his traditional chains, whether that involves POV shots (which actually start the film) or the eventual crash of man and pre-evolved man. It probably isn't surprising that he won an Academy Award for this film (sharing it with Wallace Beery), because he is tremendous here, showing the tragedy that comes with curiosity that goes too far, which involves desperation and lunacy that impulsively strikes fear for those around him. Those transformation sequences (by potion or later by impulse) are astounding, and that first sequence of Hyde in the open as one of uninhibited design and desire works to what the film wants in distinct characterization with useful effect. What we have is a victim of his own desires. Hopkins and Hobart make up both sides of the impulse here, whether that involves charm or stuffy patience for the scenario presented in upbringing (one lives in a boarding room and the other is not allowed to marry until it reaches a certain day), which makes for a quality payoff when seeing the result of overblown desire (or passionate frustration). The rest of the cast play their parts in the roundabout way to be expected, contrasting the impulsive March handily. In total, this is a splendid horror film in its camera construction and its headliner performance from March that makes for a neat encompassing film still fit for the times required.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Night of the Creeps.

Skippy.

Review #2064: Skippy.

Cast: 

Jackie Cooper (Skippy Skinner), Robert Coogan (Sooky Wayne), Mitzi Green (Eloise), Jackie Searl (Sidney), Willard Robertson (Dr. Herbert Skinner), Enid Bennett (Mrs. Ellen Skinner), Donald Haines (Harley Nubbins), Jack Rube Clifford (Mr. Nubbins, Dog-Catcher), Helen Jerome Eddy (Mrs. Wayne), and Guy Oliver (Dad Burkey) Directed by Norman Taurog (#421 - Palm Springs Weekend, #523 - It Happened at the World's Fair, and #1174 - Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine)

Review: 

The career of Norman Taurog really is a double-edged sword if you think about it. He was familiar with performances from a child as he entered that realm on the stage while being raised in his native Chicago. He appeared in off-Broadway for a number of years before he entered the film industry in collaboration with Larry Semon that saw him direct for the first time in 1920. He eventually graduated from shorts to features by the end of the decade with Lucky Boy (1929), which actually had a few portions of dialogue. By the time of Skippy (1931), Taurog was already a veteran of half-a-dozen films that clearly would serve him well as a recipent of an Academy Award. Yes, well, here we are with the film that saw him awarded one for Best Director that happened in the year of such films as Cimarron, The Front Page and Morocco (well, it only was the fourth ceremony held). As such, the film starred his nephew in Jackie Cooper for the title role after he had started appearing (read: dragged by his grandmother) in films at the age of 3, which resulted in a spell spent with Our Gang before Paramount borrowed him here. If you ever want to see just what kind of differences exist between the past and now when it comes to treating actors, Cooper shared just Taurog got him to cry, as related by his autobiography years later. When one sequence couldn't get the right amount of tears, Taurog chewed him out as a ham and called for the spare costume to be put on Robert Coogan. The next time that a scene was needed in tears, now again incurring the wrath of Taurog in not being able to cry on cue, decided to have someone take away Cooper's dog that he had with him on set. But that isn't all, he proceeded to have a security guard come up with a gun and make it seem like the guard shot the dog, which naturally led Cooper into hysterics; of course, if Cooper did the scene the way Taurog wanted in calmness, he could go see if the dog was possibly alive (well, the dog wasn't shot, but of course the real key to getting Cooper to cry a third time was far simpler: his mother talked him through the scene in why he would need to cry). Of course, Cooper has also stated that Taurog essentially was a contradiction: he called him both an effective director among the ones he could compare in making films but he also was a tough figure for a kid that basically suffered abuse from their grandmother. One would say, however, that Cooper thankfully ended up more fortunate than others of his time, which included a lengthy run on television, both as actor and director (coincidentally, Glamour Boy, made a decade after this film, saw him star as a has-been child star that even referred to "Skippy" for its promos). As for Taurog, by the time he retired in 1968, he had directed roughly 180 feature films, which included directing for stars such as Spencer Tracy, Dean Martin, Elvis Presley, and beyond.

Amidst all of that is the fact that this was based on the comic strip of the same name, as created by Percy Crosby in 1923, which served as an inspiration for Charles Schultz's Peanuts (if you would like to fall down the rabbit hole of where Crosby ended up, well, try this out) As such, the film was written by Norman Z. McLeod and Joseph L. Mankiewicz (both future directors) in screenplay, while Don Marquis provides additional dialogue, and Sam Mintz provided the story. There was a sequel with many of the same people returning in Sooky in the winter of 1931. What it all boils down to for this film is a a film threatening to choke in schmaltz that thankfully is at least endearing enough in the overall result to make it more than just a dated feature. It packs a bit of a punch in melodrama that will at least make one not have to spring a defense of a silly children's movie being, well, "made exclusively for children".  It is Cooper who holds his own, a testament to solid timing and, well, the aforementioned treatment during production; the last crying scene (the one that wasn't conjured up with tricks) might actually be the most effective, showing just what really matters to a kid when they think about life that seems like it could go forever. Crosby once described the character as "the child in my soul", and it isn't hard to see how Cooper makes that seem engaging and useful for child adventure. A weaker presence would've been the last straw in an otherwise okay movie with characters that possess the amount of dimensions expected for such a simple-to-the-point story.  Coogan (brother of the noted Jackie) is, well, I can give slack for a six-year-old, so go with that (Green does some sort of goofy yodel on occasion that is, well, embarrassing for any teen). The adults are about what you'd expect in mild-mannered foils, so there's that. As a whole, what does one expect from a film about kids trying to deal with shantytown shutdowns and trying to raise $6 (adjusted for inflation, that's about $100 today) to buy a windshield and save a dog from death? Well, you will get a film that shows its age along with a heart on its sleeve with an ideal (if not semi-coerced) performance from Cooper to make it all worth a viewing for those into curiosity for this sort of film.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Working Girls.

Review #1810: Working Girls.

Cast: 

Judith Wood (June Thorpe), Dorothy Hall (Mae Thorpe), Charles "Buddy" Rogers (Boyd Wheeler), Paul Lukas (Dr. Joseph Von Schrader), Stuart Erwin (Pat Kelly), Frances Dee (Louise Adams), Mary Forbes (Mrs. Johnstone), Claire Dodd (Jane), Dorothy Stickney (Loretta), Alberta Vaughn (Violet), and Claude King (Mr. Adams) Directed by Dorothy Arzner (#1648 - Sarah and Son)

Review: 

Working Girls was the ninth feature effort from Dorothy Arzner (with two uncredited contributions), who as we all know deserved better when it comes to appraising one of the most prolific women directors of the first half of the 20th century, if not still one of the most prolific of the now. The film is adapted from the 1930 play Blind Mice, which had been written by Vera Caspary and Winifred Lenihan; Caspary was a novelist who is best known for her novel Laura (that was turned into a hit movie), while Lenihan was an actress mostly involved in the theater and her one defining role as the title role in the 1923-24 American production of Saint Joan. It was a re-working of Caspary's novel Music in the Street, which used undercover work at a rooming house by her. However, the play was actually not much of a success, since she was not experienced in writing plays (to the point where the producers did re-writes) that resulted in two weeks of life on the stage. Zoe Akins served as the screenwriter for the film, as she did for a number of Arzner's early films.

I'm sure you are familiar with the classic structure of two women trying to make it while working in the city. Well, don't forget about the joys of pre-marital relations and making light of marriage. Actually, Arzner described the film as one of her favorites, but Paramount Pictures gave it a limited release - keep in mind, this was the Pre-Code era too. A deal by Universal Pictures to acquire a number of films from Paramount's library from 1929-1948 would also bury the movie in obscurity for years without a home video release. Of course, prints do exist that were screened for occasions such as 2015 for UCLA or for bootlegs. Of course, one might not exactly be quite familiar with the stars besides Lukas (well, him and Erwin were both future Academy Award nominees, though). It was the last starring role for Hall, and Wood had her peak (in terms of roles) in this year, while Rogers had a few years of being known as "America's Boy Friend" who dabbled in music. The reason I am spending a bit of time with history window-dressing is to give a little credit to the actual result generated by Arzner when it comes to making a solid Pre-Code comedy that can be interpreted as a useful feminist work with its ruminations about marriage that make for a fairly interesting 77 minutes. Sure, there were a handful of films that aimed to capture the reality of folks trying to mingle the realities of city life with love life with regard to what expectations are held to them, but this time with a truly feminine perspective. While the structure of the film doesn't exactly yield to too many unpredictable closing marks, it does manage to have a charm and efficiency to make things seem worth it without being absorbed in audience-safe fears (with a little bit of editing charm to go alongside it). Wood and Hall pair fairly decently when it comes to showing the associations that comes with free-spirited young people that will either take advantage of situations presented to them or be swept away by it (or both), which results in a few laughs. Rogers proves adequate in flighty charisma, but Lukas is the more distinct presence in terms of measured interest while Erwin makes a casual foil to seal the puzzle of distinct personalities playing against the leads. While its ending nearly shakes with too much offbeat nature (i.e. a gun-induced marriage proposal), the movie is generally riveting enough with showing perspective in the right places that means it still shows relevance among its peers after nine decades, one that is cheery and earthy enough to recommend.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Not Wanted (1949).

Dracula (1931).

Review #1733: Dracula.

Cast: 

Carlos Villarías (Conde Drácula), Lupita Tovar (Eva), Barry Norton (Juan Harker), Pablo Álvarez Rubio (Renfield), Eduardo Arozamena (Van Helsing), José Soriano Viosca (Doctor Seward), Carmen Guerrero (Lucía), Amelia Senisterra (Marta), and Manuel Arbó (Martín) Directed by George Melford (#1318 - The Sheik)

Review: 

Believe it or not, there was a time long ago when wanting to show a film in different countries meant more than just hiring folks to dub voices. Sure, one could just change a few things around in title cards for the silent era, but there really was a moment in time where studios thought the best way to potentially get a few bucks from places like Mexico was to just hire a bunch of actors (for cheaper than they had spent the first time around) and do it all over again; Paramount on Parade (1930) for example, had thirteen releases (with the all-star revue having versions from Spanish to Czech). Universal Studios did this for a time in 1930, and this extends to The Cat Creeps (1930), which had George Melford as director and Lupita Tovar as star. Melford certainly is an interesting presence to be behind this, an actor/director for several decades, although by the time of the 1930s he would curtail his work as director (doing just seven in the decades after handfuls in the previous one). Of course, he also did not speak any Spanish nor did he understand it, so he used a translator to talk with his actors. I'm sure you are familiar with Tod Browning's Dracula (1931), one that was adapted from each the 1897 book of the same name by Bram Stoker and the 1924 stage play of the same name (which had been written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston). That movie was shot in the day time, while the Spanish-language edition would be done at night (complete with similar shots), and Melford had the benefit of seeing the rushes of the prior shoot. Of course, the big difference is that this movie is 104 minutes long, which essentially is half an hour longer than the English-language film.

One has to remember that it probably doesn't matter which language version is better. Of course, one film didn't have the distinction of languishing in obscurity for four decades, where having a screening at the Museum of Modern Art in 1977 (not complete, but close) was the impetus for making the film known more to folks beyond historians. Home video releases came in the 1990s, but a restoration (of both versions) only came in 2012 (incidentally, I think I've watched Dracula (1931) about once since that year). Honestly, as an overall experience, the Spanish-language film is probably the more interesting experience, although they each have merits to consider, depending on how much one wants to consider it beyond just who has the better Dracula and who has the better pace. To put it nicely, the Spanish Dracula is a bit more interesting to watch because it doesn't seem as static (of course, years of watching horror movies, complete with a handful from the same era has certainly colored the perception), complete with extended versions of scenes seen earlier, such as the scene on the boat, which now includes a few screams and a shot of a hand coming out. In general, the cast in moments without Dracula seem a bit more ready to handle what the need to handle (at least besides the Van Helsing character, who was interesting whether played by Edward Van Sloan or not). The haunt level probably better by a margin, but there is certainly one area that the English version simply does better: Dracula himself. It must be an odd distinction to be known for a horror film, but imagine it being a particular version of a horror film, and thus one has the case of Villarías, who simply can't be as effective with the lines presented here, with his facial expressions playing a small part in that regard (seeming perhaps a bit more tuned to comedy), although one could argue that a nicer seeing vampire might make a scarier villain when revealed. Lugosi simply was the best at doing those little lines with the right amount of timing to make it seem worthwhile. Tovar does fine with what is needed here in innocence that was fairly present before (played by Helen Chandler before). While Norton doesn't have any more to do than the version played by David Manners, one won't be too disappointed to remember for long, while Rubio plays a fairly adequate nutso Renfield. Arozamena fills the warm dedicated presence fit to oppose Dracula without confusion. As a whole, there are a plethora of Dracula movies one could sit through from country to country to consider, each with their own perspective on how much one sees of Dracula and other considerations. In that sense, each 1931 Dracula movie can be thought of as part of a great curiosity, one to wonder just how folks can handle the challenge of doing a book/stage hodgepodge in the early days of sound did what they did with the same sets and props but with crucial differences.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Vampyr.

AND NOW...A SURPRISE, one that is long overdue...or at the very least I think so.

Review #071, Revisited: Dracula (1931).

Cast:

Bela Lugosi (Count Dracula), Helen Chandler (Mina Seward), David Manners (John Harker), Dwight Frye (Renfield), Edward Van Sloan (Van Helsing), Herbert Bunston (Dr. Seward), Frances Dade (Lucy Weston), and Joan Standing (Nurse Briggs) Directed by Tod Browning.

Review: 

Consider the time of the 1930s. Sound was now coming into focus for feature films, so what better time for horror to come into focus than now? Or, at the very least, what better time to continue the cycle of taking material from books or the stage to satisfy the demand for films? Universal Pictures was no exception, having done plenty of these kind of movies, such as with The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) and The Phantom of the Opera (1925). Ah, but this is a different kind of adaptation: It is  not only an adaptation of the 1897 book of the same name by Bram Stoker but also it is based off the 1924 stage play of the same name (written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston). One of the stars of the production of Broadway was an actor by the name of Bela Lugosi (born Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó). The Hungarian actor escaped his native country in 1919 after breaking into acting two years prior, and he dabbled in Germany before settling into America, where he eventually went from labor work to bit film parts. The Dracula role on Broadway became his in 1927, and in spite of doubts from studio executives, he found his way towards the lead role for the film (incidentally, this was the same year he would become naturalized as a U.S. citizen). At the helm for the film was Tod Browning, who actually grew up with an interest in the circus, which went from vaudeville to eventually time spent as an actor before becoming a director by the mid 1910s.

This was the film that started what folks might consider the modern horror genre, and it is likely the film that most remember Browning and Lugosi for (with typecasting following for the latter over the next two decades). It is odd to consider then just how much legacies can affect the image of a film over time, considering the 90 years that now stand between the release of this film and now. Honestly, my perception of the film has changed over time, in that the teenaged version of me really dug it (i.e. as a 15 year old). Now, with the passage of time and with plenty more films under my belt, I can recognize that this film, while important to its place in the horror genre and the Universal Monsters line as a whole...is merely okay at best. The one shining reason to see it is for Lugosi, pure and simple. Of all the Draculas to come out on the silver screen, it is Lugosi who stands out as one of the most hypnotic and most interesting to view in the eyes of aristocratic charisma that haunts one's view, and one can certainly see why Lugosi would have an interesting time with finding roles after this film. Browning (whose career would close in 1939 after over forty features under his belt) seems a bit outmatched in elevating the material beyond static shots and a quick pace of just under 80 minutes, but at least one can say the film looks fairly nice despite a few failings in general tone. Frye does fairly well with evoking nuttiness (albeit with a bit of ham) that certainly steals the show away from others to their detriment (Van Sloan and the others are a bit wooden, but at least he seems like he should be wooden to play a curious hunter). Honestly, it is probably more curious that there was a Spanish version of this film, done at night over the course of three weeks with the same sets than anything. At any rate, this film and Frankenstein (1931) would play a key part in American horror in the sound age, and while one can debate the quality of what is seen rather than what lives on in legacy, it cannot be denied that Lugosi manages to make things stay on the level where it needs to go to keep things from turning into a dull affair.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Little Caesar.

Review #1701: Little Caesar.

Cast: 

Edward G. Robinson (Caesar Enrico "Rico" Bandello), Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (Joe Massara), Glenda Farrell (Olga Stassoff), William Collier Jr. (Tony Passa), Sidney Blackmer (Big Boy), Ralph Ince (Pete Montana), Thomas E. Jackson (Sergeant Flaherty), Stanley Fields (Sam Vettori), Maurice Black (Little Arnie Lorch), and George E. Stone (Otero) Directed by Mervyn LeRoy (#596 - Random Harvest)

Review: 

There is an interesting curiosity one can find from movies made in the pre-Code era of Hollywood filmmaking. Sure, there were boards of censorship all across the country since the silent era, but one generally finds more interest in looking at the era of filmmaking when sound become prevalent in feature films. In other words, one sees things differently in film when you can hear the action to go along with it, regardless of the fact that public pressure would soon mount a Motion Picture Production Code that would soon oversee features for three decades. But that was in 1934, so let us jump back to 1931. This was the same year that saw the release of The Public Enemy (featuring James Cagney in the role that also made him a star) which came out three months after this feature, with each being based on written experiences in Chicago near gangster types, with this film being based off the book of the same name by W. R. Burnett (a novelist and screenwriter for decades who had resided in the city as a hotel desk clerk), with a screenplay written by Francis Edward Faragoh and Robert N. Lee (each nominated for an Academy Award for their work here, which they lost to the writers for Cimarron), with un-credited work by Robert Lord and Darryl F. Zanuck. Incidentally, Robinson and Cagney would star together in a feature together in Smart Money (1931), a crime drama that was the first and only time they starred together. For all the speculation about inspirations within the gangster Al Capone for either The Public Enemy or this feature (which drew not so much entirely on Capone but also criminals such as Salvatore "Sam" Cardinella), this was also the same year that he was charged and convicted of tax evasion that saw him put in jail. At any rate, those aforementioned films also made stars of their lead actors; Robinson had emigrated to the States from Romania as a child, but his first interest was in law before acting. Years spent in the theatre served him well when he started to make regular appearances in film with The Hole in the Wall (1929), which would be one of a handful of films he appeared in that ranged from second to supporting role (primarily in the crime drama genre). Of course, the gangster film did not entirely start with this film either, since one could argue that Underworld (1927) as the proto-gangster movie, and Lights of New York (1928), the first all-talking feature (which alongside Public Enemy and Little Caesar was released by the studio) also had elements of the crime drama in it. At any rate, Burnett was also one of the writers behind Scarface (1932), which also has stood as one of the lasting key pieces of the gangster film, particularly in the pre-Code era. 

At the helm for this feature is LeRoy, who had graduated from a brief stint in acting to writing comedies to directing his own features in the 1920s. Little Caesar is one of over thirty features that he would direct in the 1930s for a decade with plenty of audience appetite for films. As a whole, it might not be as devastating in raw entertainment as The Public Enemy, but its lead performance by Robinson essentially carries it enough to the point where it does not matter too much because one is having too much fun with the gripping interest generated in 79 minutes. LeRoy was one of the hardest working directors of his time, and it certainly shows in both his successes and missteps presented here, one that has some fairly well captured shots from cinematographer Tony Gaudio to accommodate some static moments (as is the case with early sound films, and this even has a few intertitles) without seeming too constrained or too apart while serving as a blunt instrument of efficient filmmaking. There would be a variety of gangster films over the next few years, but Little Caesar managed to stay its welcome with its reasonable edge for the subject that didn't go straight for easy tricks such as indulging in violence or confusing its message in simplified or complicated gobbledygook - it helped to build the clichés to gaze upon in the gangster film for years to come, if you think about it. You get a tale of someone rising the ladder in organized crime that doesn't pull punches, and Robinson is at the forefront of making this role his with no complication. He would find himself typecast in a variety of tough guy roles over the next few years (even taking a role in Larceny, Inc (1942) to offset his image with a comedy, which I fondly remember enjoying), and it isn't too hard to see why, owing to his voice and mannerisms that make him undeniably interesting to view through the film, whether spent trying to strong-arm Fairbanks Jr or strong-arm himself into the next big thing; everybody needs a good death scene in a gangster film (no matter how prepared/un-prepared one is for it), and he makes that final line stick with the right sense of doom and folly required. Fairbanks Jr and Farrell are meant to match him in sensibility, which generally works out fine in useful engagement without detracting from the general experience. The supporting cast prove worthy enough in setting the seedy atmosphere required in terms of grimy strength (ones that could be thought of as faceless brutes). Jackson plays the authority with coarse charm that doesn't serve to make this a straight moral tale. As a whole, its portrayal of the rise and fall of a crime lord proves quite interesting in cultivating a worthy atmosphere and tension within a great lead performance and fair support from others in a proven feature that has endured well for itself after eight decades since its release, a fitting marker for a star and director that had plenty of time to follow up their successes in their field.

On the board for the Count to Ten Project, updated.

1921: 5, 1922-23: 8 each, 1924: 9, 1926: 7, 1929: 5

1930: 6, 1934: 4, 1935: 5, 1936-37: 6, 1938: 5

1940-41: 8 each, 1944: 7, 1948-49: 8 each

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Mädchen in Uniform.

Review #1649: Mädchen in Uniform.

Cast: 

Emilia Unda (Mother Fräulein von Nordeck zur Nidden), Dorothea Wieck (Governess Fräulein von Bernburg), Hertha Thiele (Manuela von Meinhardis), Hedwig Schlichter (Fräulein von Kesten), Ellen Schwanneke (Ilse von Westhagen), Erika Mann (Fräulein von Atems), Gertrud de Lalsky (her Excellency von Ehrenhardt), Marte Hein (Duchess), Lene Berdolt (Fräulein von Garschner), Lisi Scheerbach (Mademoiselle Oeuillet), Margory Bodker (Miss Evans), and Else Ehser (Elise, wardrobe mistress) Directed by Leontine Sagan.

Review: 

"The whole of Mädchen in Uniform was set in the Empress Augusta boarding school, where Winsloe was educated. Actually there really was a Manuela, who remained lame all of her life after she threw herself down the stairs. She came to the premiere of the film. I saw her from a distance, and at the time Winsloe told me "The experience is one which I had to write from my heart." Winsloe was a lesbian...However, I really don't want to make a great deal of...or account for a film about lesbianism here. That's far from my mind, because the whole thing of course is also a revolt against the cruel Prussian education system."

It's easy to say someone is best known for their first theatrical effort when they have plenty of credit to go along with it. Born Leontine Schlesigner in Austria-Hungary, she grew up in a variety of places around Europe that ranged from South Africa to Vienna. She did training for the theatre with the Max Reinhardt that would lead to a career for herself on stage alongside a few appearances in film. At the age of 42, she directed her first film with this effort. She would direct two further theatrical efforts with Men of Tomorrow (1932, co-directed with Zoltan Korda) and Gaeity George (1946, co-directed with George King); she would work in England and South Africa within the theatre as a director until her death in 1974. The film was an adaptation of Christa Winsloe's 1930 play Gestern und heute [Then and Now] (although it was written as "Knight Nerestan"), and Winsloe collaborated with Friedrich Dammann on the screenplay, while Carl Froelich served as both producer and "senior artistic director". The film would inspire a French novel and film with Olivia (1941, 1951) along with two remakes (1951, 1958). The one key difference between adaptation was the climax, which ended in a suicide for one of the characters (Winsloe would publish a novel relating to the characters in 1933 with Das Mädchen Manuela; incidentally, the play was the only one that Winsloe wrote prior to her murder in 1944). This was certainly a provocative film for its time, then and now. It includes an all-female cast and it was made as a collective effort between cast and crew (who took less pay in order to make the film, although its success in profits would seep into the hands of producers). It also happened to be released near the tail end of the Weimer Republic, one that managed to garner some attention in distribution, such as the United States (First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt helped give it attention in terms of recommending the film whereas other places threatened to ban it). 

Of course while the film certainly ranks as a key piece for female filmmaking, it happens to also be a look upon the dynamics of academy teaching, which I suppose should make sense with their striped clothing that makes them look like prisoners, where they need to only obey rather than think, complete with filming in the Potsdam military orphanage (alongside work in Berlin-Tempelhof). That, and a love story involving it taking spirit in a variety of forms - a lesbian one. It was a mild success upon release, overshadowed by releases of the time. However, growing turmoil within Germany in the decade led to a curtailing in releases for this film alongside exile for members of the crew, such as with Theile and Mann each leaving for Switzerland by the mid 1930s due to Nazi takeover that felt the film was "decadent". It also happens to take place with two actresses playing a teacher-student dynamic of forbidden love that fooled me in one aspect: they actually were the same age (23), though it does not gaze upon its romance with anything more than a kiss on the mouth. In this sense, Thiele (who had played the role on stage) takes the lead quite well in sensitivity, one that resonates with artful movement and grace without withering to a challenging part in terms of taboos and believability. One cares for what they see and don't see in scenes spent in the school with her, such as her recollections of her mother or her first time spent with the others and their affirmative mood towards their governess. Wieck completes the angle of infatuation with her style of warm reasoned charm, one that we can read affliction for with subtlety that makes them seem like a double act with how she and Thiele match with each other with even the smallest of glances or gestures. Unda is the clear foil for each of them as the authority figure, and she does quite well with the material given, careful in cold measures as the representation of maintaining the values of the time (namely a spartan living) without becoming a cliché to poke at. Others in the cast do fine with the closely-knit settings, such as with Schwanneke and her brash attitude to being oneself with charm in the eyes of those who either seek to play off it or counteract it. There is quite a fluid look on display here, one that manages to look quite shimmering despite (or perhaps because of) its shooting within the school setting, where one doesn't find a stale shot on display here. It certainly deserves its place as an international cult classic, one that grips attention with its natural feel for well-placed shots and artful handling of conflict between authority and freedom, one that makes its 98 minutes go by with calm pacing and careful framing that allows the viewer to approach it with interest and ambiguity that made it a worthy curiosity upon queer film circles in the 1970s. It lands most of what it wants to accomplish in careful planning with a delicate subject matter involving what it means to find oneself in the throes of burgeoning womanhood and all that comes from it, whether that means a struggle to maintain oneself in freedom or with passion in life and love. In that sense, it certainly merits as a curiosity for what it says on the outside and inside after nine decades since its release as a useful piece to women filmmaking.

Next Time: A 1949 double-feature starts with a familiar tale...done the first time around, with Gigi (1949).

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Front Page (1931).

Review #1336: The Front Page.

Cast: 
Adolphe Menjou (Walter Burns), Pat O'Brien (Hildebrand "Hildy" Johnson), Mary Brian (Peggy Grant), Edward Everett Horton (Roy V. Bensinger), Walter Catlett (Jimmy Murphy), George E. Stone (Earl Williams), Mae Clarke (Molly Malloy), Slim Summerville (Irving Pincus), Matt Moore (Ernie Kruger), Frank McHugh ("Mac" McCue), Clarence Wilson (Sheriff Peter B. "Pinky" Hartman), Fred Howard (Schwartz), Phil Tead (Wilson), Eugene Strong (Endicott), and Spencer Charters (Woodenshoes) Directed by Lewis Milestone (#901 - The Racket)

Review: 
As the phrase goes, laughter can be the best medicine. The silent era had plenty of comedies to go around, whether short or feature-length, all with their own level of imagination in terms of craftsmanship of gags and actors to play with amusing situations. Obviously this would continue with the sound era, only now you had a voice to go with amusing situations, along with the rise of one notable section of the comedy genre: the screwball. There exists plenty of subgenres to comedy, ranging from slapstick to romantic comedies. The screwball associates with those particular genres with its own twists on the conventional love story alongside characteristics such as fast-paced overlapping dialogue, situations bordering on farce and other various tactics helping with making prime escapist fare. The decade was prime for the screwball comedy, with the most famous example being It Happened One Night (1934). Plenty of directors found a name for themselves in the decade, or at the very least settled into the transition of the silent era without too many snags. Lewis Milestone fell into the category of continued success. Although his body of work for the decade was nearly half from the last decade, he managed to create several interesting and memorable films in varying genres (after all, he is the only man to win an Academy Award for Best Director for comedy and drama), such as the epic war film All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), or the novella adaptation Of Mice and Men (1939). Simply put, Milestone had a career spanning six decades for good reason. It should not prove surprising to see Howard Hughes listed as producer, with this being his follow-up after Hell's Angels, since he had produced Milestone's Two Arabian Knights (1927) and The Racket (1928).

The film was adapted to the screen by Bartlett Cormack and Charles Lederer based on the Broadway play of the same name, which had first premiered in 1928 from the creation of Chicago reporters-turned-playwrights-turned-film writers Ben Hecht (who you may remember from his work on Underworld in 1927) and Charles MacArthur. Louis Wolheim was to play the lead role, doing nearly a week of rehearsals before he died unexpectedly of what is now attributed to stomach cancer. In his place is Menjou, who had a near five decade long career in silent and talkie films. He does a tremendous job in garnering sharp laughs, spot on for a rough-and-tumble yet resilient role like this, never turning it into a complete cliche. O'Brien handles himself fairly well, rolling well whenever needing to generate interest with making chemistry with a gamely strong Brian or with the quirky co-star reporters, such as the banjo-playing Moore, and others such as Wilson prove just as well in inducing chuckles. The film has a compact pace, juggling its subplots in 101 minutes with the strokes of a director in his element to make entertainment that impacts the viewer with enough sense in humor and style to keep the audience locked in their seats with anticipation for what amusement could come next, mixing cynicism and sentiment without too much trouble. By the time the film wraps up its subplots up neatly (complete a memorable way of getting around the censoring of a certain word), one is left fairly satisfied by what they have seen. The play would not stop with just one adaptation. In 1940, it was adapted again, this time with the Hildy character being a woman and ex-wife to the Burns character in His Girl Friday, with director Howard Hawks attempting to have even faster-paced dialogue present. Like this film, it also happens to be in the public domain. The film was then remade in 1974 by Billy Wilder and subsequently revised to have the character work in television reporting with Switching Channels (1988), for which neither were particularly big hits. In any case, The Front Page is a fine piece for its era, worthy of a viewing for the curious that yearn for some quick sharp laughs for a worthwhile time in a worthwhile age.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Tabu: A Story of the South Seas.

Review #1335: Tabu: A Story of the South Seas.

Cast: 
Matahi (The Boy), Anne Chevalier (The Girl), Bill Bambridge (The Policeman), and Hitu (The Old Warrior) Directed by F.W. Murnau (#256 - Nosferatu and #499 - Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans)

Review: 
It should only make sense that F. W. Murnau would be behind one of the last great films of the silent era. He had directed twenty films (with eight now being lost) since beginning his career at the age of 31 in 1919 with Der Knabe in Blau (The Boy in Blue), having survived numerous plane crashes and being a prisoner of war during his time in World War I for the German Empire. He had grown up inspired by the works of Nietzche and William Shakespeare, viewing the cinema as an art form for the director to sketch with his camera, which he used to great effect with films such as Der letzte Mann (The Last Laugh) from 1924, which eschewed using multiple intertitles to try and help its story, or his film based on the German legend Faust in 1926 - his last German work before migrating to the United States. He had made two further films for Fox Film after the memorable Sunrise with Four Devils and City Girl, which did not prove successful. Similarly dissatisfied with the film studios over his vision was Robert J. Flaherty. He had began his career with the seminal Nanook of the North (1922), with his next feature being the first docufiction film with Moana (1926). However, he had gotten into disagreements with MGM over his meticulous way of shooting when doing White Shadows in the South Seas (1928), which led him to quitting production. The two had a common acquaintance in Flaherty's brother, and Murnau's desire to make a film in Tahiti combined with Flaherty's connection to natives led to a story written by the two for a film. By 1929, they had gotten started in location scouting and wound up with their lead actress in a cocktail bar. They had intended to receive funds to produce from a small company, but delayed transactions led to Murnau deciding to fund it himself. The following year, they had began production, with Flaherty filming the opening scene before technical issues led to Floyd Crosby being brought in to help shoot the film. These three were the only professionals on the film, with everyone else from the cast to the crew being natives (trained by Murnau). The changes made to the script to incorporate a love story did not please Flaherty, who spent most of his time developing the film in a lab, perceiving Murnau as arrogant and selfish. The film was made over the span of ten months before eventually being signed for a deal of distribution with Paramount Pictures for March 18, 1931. Tragically, Murnau would not survive to see the film premiere, having died in a car accident the week before. The film did not prove to be a success, although Crosby would win an Academy Award for his cinematography work; the film managed to survive despite World War II destroying the original negative, and time has helped the film's reputation as a fascinating silent piece that almost plays like poetry.

One does not have to wait long to see its hypnotic power take affect. It manages to tell a concise 84 minute tale on the power of its images (and occasionally translated messages) without needing to use overblown theatrics or sentiment to get its tragedy the right kind of meaning. One wonders what Murnau would have done when it came to direction if he had survived further in the sound era, really. Its tale of romance that falls prey to the demands of others and fate trying to deny them is a familiar one that can be said in any decade, which most certainly can make for great entertainment, or at least ones that are moving enough to inspire curiosity. This does fine in that sense because of its craftsmanship. Matahi and Chevalier certainly make the most of it, being figures for Murnau to mold for effect to where we see clear chemistry between them throughout the two chapters (fittingly named "Paradise" and "Paradise Lost"). Hitu rounds out the small cast with an imposing nature through old eyes that sell the dangers of forbidden love trying to persist over superstition. One doesn't need to have a complete understanding of the culture the film tries to depict to find themselves absorbed by what they are seeing, where patience does not wear thin or lead to much frustration. By the time the film gets to its tragic but swift ending in the seas, the film has sealed itself as a fascinating finishing point for an era where music and images took precedent over voice. On the whole, while it isn't quite as striking in every composition as his other works, Murnau manages to create a lasting great piece to sadly close out a career on with this film, a mesh of drama with his flourishes in camera combining with a depiction of people from another culture to make a useful curiosity piece that you should check out for yourself.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: City Lights.

Review #600: City Lights.

Cast
Charlie Chaplin (The Tramp), Virginia Cherrill (A Blind Girl), Florence Lee (Her Grandmother), Harry Myers (An Eccentric Millionaire), Al Ernest Garcia (His Butler), and Hank Mann (A Prizefighter) Directed by Charlie Chaplin (#353 -Monsieur Verdoux and #599 - The Kid)

Review
To close out this road to 600 Reviews, is a familiar face. Charlie Chaplin is probably one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, not only did he star in his own films, he was also the director, the writer, the producer and even the composer of the music for his own films. He starred in numerous films all throughout the early 20th century, eventually venturing into feature length films, and this is one of them. This was made just as sound films became popular, but Chaplin didn't care, he wanted to keep the silent charm of the iconic character, the Tramp. The movie has a neat premise that is simple yet easily compelling. Chaplin is a good director, but he is an even better actor. Watching him interact with everyone is pure joy, especially his first scene with Myers, which is exceedingly hilarious. Chaplin and Cherrill work well together, interacting perfectly together, and it adds a new layer to an already fun movie. The slapstick is fun to watch and extremely hilarious along with being memorable, especially the boxing match, for all of its silliness and charm. The whole movie is charming and warm, and the cast is just right. The final scene with Chaplin and Cherrill is absolutely perfect and is probably one of the best end scenes in motion history. This is a remarkable movie that is absolutely recommended for everyone, young and old, for happy or for the sad. Thank you for all of your support over the past 3 and a half years, and I hope for another 600 reviews.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Public Enemy.

Review #494: The Public Enemy.

Cast
James Cagney (Tom Powers), Jean Harlow (Gwen Allen), Edward Woods (Matt Doyle), Joan Blondell (Mamie), Donald Cook (Mike Powers), Leslie Fenton (Nails Nathan), Mae Clarke (Kitty), and Beryl Mercer (Ma Powers) Directed by William A. Wellman (#349 - Wings)

Review
Originally Edward Woods was going to be the main character, until it was decided that Cagney was more effective in the lead role, and it's not hard to see why. Cagney has a distinctive voice for the role and stature, which works especially well for a gangster film. The film itself may seem dated, but it is certainly an interesting look into the criminal world. The rest of the actors are good, and Cagney pairs off well with Woods, which is a fine surprise. The scene most refer to as the most memorable is the grapefruit scene as Cagney smashes it into Mae Clarke's face, leaving in a huff. It certainly is a powerful scene, and it must've been really surprising back in 1931. This film certainly shows its age, given the sound, the use of live ammunition in one scene, but despite that, the film manages to get its point across, about the criminal underbelly of small time gangsters, that can be in any town, any where. Countdown to 500 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6...

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Maltese Falcon (1931).

Review #395: The Maltese Falcon.

Cast
Bebe Daniels (Ruth Wonderly), Ricardo Cortez (Sam Spade), Dudley Digges (Casper Gutman), Una Merkel (Effie Perine), Robert Elliott (Dundy), Thelma Todd (Iva Archer), Otto Matieson (Joel Cairo), Walter Long (Miles Archer), and Dwight Frye (Wilmer Cook) Directed by Roy Del Ruth.

Review
As it turns out, the 1941 film version of the Dashiell Hammett novel was not the first adaptation, as this 1931 film was made first, though it would soon languish into obscurity, even being called Dangerous Female after the 1941 film was released. But my question before watching was would it be any good. And...it's not exactly good, but it has some sort of merit. Trying to compare this and the 1941 film is liking trying to compare a work of art by Picasso to a painting by a beginner, it's just not fair to compare because as I said in my review of the 1941 film, "The film has a style to it that helps the film makes its case for a good film, if not already from the acting. The story's good, making you interested in it for the entirety of the film." From what I've heard, the two films are pretty close to the novel, different in some ways, and this version feels like the 1941 version, but not too much. Maybe it's just me, but when I was watching I thought I heard a crackly noise that kept going in the background for the rest of the film, but that could just be me. The actors are alright, and the sets do look well. The film shows its age at points, and while this isn't a great film in most sense, this at least should watched once, either before or after the 1941 film. Take this for it's worth, no matter the consequences. Countdown to 400 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: M.

Review #333: M.

Cast
Peter Lorre (Hans Beckert), Otto Wernicke (Inspector Karl Lohmann), Gustaf Gründgens (The Safecracker), Ellen Widmann (Frau Beckmann), Inge Landgut (Elsie Beckmann), Theodor Loos (Inspector Groeber), Friedrich Gnas (Franz) Directed by Fritz Lang.

Review
This is the eighth world cinema film reviewed here (#015 - The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, #017 - A Fistful of Dollars, #019 - For a Few Dollars More, #167 - Gojira, #256 - Nosferatu, #261 - The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, #309 - Santa Claus), with this one coming from Germany. This happens to be the first review of Fritz Lang here, and the third of Peter Lorre, with this being his breakout role that would later garner him more roles. Like Gojira, I watched a version with subtitles (Thus I can't really discuss the level of acting in voices per say.), but even with subtitles the film is easy to follow, not really requiring dubbing (Fun fact: There would later be a dubbed version a few years after this with Lorre speaking English) to work. Lang's direction is good, having style yet a gritty feel to it. If there is one memorable person that is in this, it undeniably is Peter Lorre. He brings a recognizable, sinister tone, and the way his eyes shift along with his demeanor works effectively. The story works well, always managing to have some sort of raw energy that is efficient. Out of the the eight world cinema films reviewed here, this is one of the best, rivaling with Gojira, Dr. Caligari, and the Dollars Trilogy. Great stuff.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Frankenstein (1931)

Review #072: Frankenstein.

Cast
Colin Clive (Henry Frankenstein), Mae Clarke (Elizabeth Lavenza), John Boles (Victor Moritz), Boris Karloff (Frankenstein's monster), Edward Van Sloan (Dr. Waldman), Frederick Kerr (Baron Frankenstein), Dwight Frye (Fritz), and Lionel Belmore (Herr Vogel, the Burgomaster) Directed by James Whale (#069 - The Invisible Man)

Review
This film is the first (feature length) adaption of the Mary Shelley book, Frankenstein. It was released in November 1931, the same year as Dracula, so these films are essentially a double feature (separated by months, but still connected nonetheless) Anyway, this film is great. It has good atmosphere, especially the lab and the opening sequence. This film would have many adaptations from many places, from Hammer (Which would make many sequels to it) to Kenneth Branagh's version. The acting is great, especially from Colin Clive. I of course will mention the Monster's design by Jack Pearce. It looks terrifying and menacing, especially with Karloff in the role. A good film that spawned a franchise...

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Dracula (1931).

Hello, if you see this, you should check out the updated review of this film, complete with a review of the Spanish film!

https://movienightcentral.blogspot.com/2021/10/dracula-1931.html

Review #071: Dracula.

Cast
Bela Lugosi (Count Dracula), Helen Chandler (Mina Seward), David Manners (John Harker), Dwight Frye (Renfield), Edward Van Sloan (Van Helsing), Herbert Bunston (Dr. Seward), Frances Dade (Lucy Weston), and Joan Standing (Nurse Briggs) Directed by Tod Browning.

Review
This film is the second adaption of the Bram Stoker novel, Dracula (Nosferatu being the first, though it was unauthorized). Anyway, this film is the first Universal horror film, released in February 1931. The film has great atmosphere, with shots of the castle, shots of spiders, shots of...Armadillos help give the film's touch. The acting is good, especially from Lugosi. He has that stare that gives you the feel he is Dracula. The others do great, especially Renfield. The movie may not be all accurate to the book, but it is still a great horror film.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.