Professor Beware.

Review #2529: Professor Beware.

Cast: 

Harold Lloyd (Professor Dean Lambert), Phyllis Welch MacDonald (Jane Van Buren), Raymond Walburn (Judge James G. Parkhouse Marshall), Lionel Stander (Jerry), William Frawley (Snoop Donlan), Thurston Hall (Mr. Van Buren), Cora Witherspoon (Mrs. Pitts), Sterling Holloway (The Groom), and Mary Lawrence (The Bride) Directed by Elliott Nugent.

Review: 

In the year that Professor Beware was released of 1938, Harold Lloyd turned 45 and had made nearly 200 films (shorts, features) for over two decades, all with the delight of having laughs at seeing a bespectacled glasses character. With that film, incidentally, Lloyd was no long producing his own films (as he had done since 1924, at least until he sold the land of his studio to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1937), as it was a production of Paramount Pictures with Lloyd as only a partial financier. The movie was directed by Elliott Nugent, who actually had done a handful of films as an actor before venturing into directing and being a playwright (most notably co-writing The Male Animal with James Thurber) for roughly two decades that saw him direct films with varying stars that ranged from Henry Fonda to Bob Hope. The screenplay was written by Delmer Daves, who was a few years away from being the director of such films as Destination Tokyo (1943) while Jack Cunningham and Clyde Bruckman were listed as doing an "adaptation" of a story as done by Crampton Harris, Francis M. Cockrell, and Marian B. Cockrell. The movie, made for roughly $800,000, was not a success with audiences at the time of release, and the fact that the film is the lone one not owned by the Lloyd estate meant that the movie lurked in the syndication circuit but hasn't really had much of a home media release (unless one likes, to, well, look for old movies on YouTube). Lloyd would produce a few films and do work in the radio before returning for one more starring role with The Sin of Harold Diddlebock (1947).

Okay, so what is the odd scenario encountered this time around: a professor is curious about the final missing fragment that tells the fate of an Egyptian from 3,000 years ago that had been buried alive for loving the daughter of the Pharoah...and the professor happens to look a bit like the Egyptian and believes that falling in love might make him go down the same path (in fairness, being buried alive does sound like a bummer). When the professor meets a girl through odd circumstances that result in him meeting public embarrassment, he sure believes he may be going the way of the Egyptian equivalent of the dodo. Lloyd and company wanted to fasten their machine of gags on the road to what they thought would be a good time. It is mildly successful in that regard...but it just seems tired, even with a runtime of 93 minutes, mainly because the gags only really get into gear for its climax, when the lead character corrals people to all follow him onto a boat by picking a fight. Lloyd aimed to get laughs from madcap situations but at a certain point watching him try to pull laughs from getting onto a rope from a moving train, it all seems that time is catching up to him. It may interest you to know this was the one and only movie appearance for Phyllis Welch MacDonald. She had made her debut on Broadway in 1935 with A Slight Case of Murder (coincidentally a play co-written by Runyon) and she moved to Hollywood after two years. Apparently, she signed a contract promising not to marry or be engaged for six months (otherwise pay $5,000) as part being in this film. The year after the film was released, she married and left acting to start a family while also being involved in children's theatre and even doing painted portraits on commission; she died in 2008 at the age of 95. Such a nice way to live life, as opposed to being stuck in further movies that may or may not have had better chances for her to actually do something besides be stuck with listless attempts at chemistry that remind you that movies on the road involving goofy encounters were just done better in It Happened One Night (1934). Stander and Frawley at least seem able to provide a chuckle. You might remember that previous sound efforts from Lloyd involved a would-be sleuth in Chinatown, a shoe salesman pretending to be successful, a movie-crazed wannabee, a mayor by accident that tries to reform a town, and a quick-paced comedy where a milkman goes to boxing contender. Some are better than others, most are at least semi-entertaining, but at least Lloyd had an idea of when it might just be time to go out on his terms.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*For those curious (in link form) about the pursuit of Lloyd's feature films in order up to Professor Beware:

A Sailor-Made Man, Grandma's Boy, Dr. Jack, Safety Last!, Why Worry?, Girl Shy, Hot Water, The Freshman, For Heaven's Sake, The Kid Brother, Speedy for the silent era

Welcome Danger, Feet First, Movie Crazy, The Cat's-Paw, The Milky Way for the sound

We will see The Sin of Harold Diddlebock in 2027.

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.

Bringing Up Baby.

Review #2060: Bringing Up Baby.

Cast: 

Katharine Hepburn (Susan Vance), Cary Grant (Dr. David Huxley), May Robson (Elizabeth Carlton Random), Charles Ruggles (Major Horace Applegate), Walter Catlett (Constable Slocum), Barry Fitzgerald (Aloysius Gogarty), Fritz Feld (Dr. Fritz Lehman), Virginia Walker (Alice Swallow), George Irving (Alexander Peabody), Leona Roberts (Hannah Gogarty), Tala Birell (Mrs. Lehman), and John Kelly (Elmer) Directed by Howard Hawks (#951 - The Big Sleep, #1352 - His Girl Friday, #1399 - Rio Bravo, #1687 - O. Henry's Full House and #1773 - Red River)

Review: 

"I think the picture had a great fault and I learned an awful lot from that. There were no normal people in it. Everyone you met was a screwball and since that time I have learned my lesson and I don’t intend ever again to make everybody crazy."

In 1937, Howard Hawks read a short story in the magazine Collier's that had been written by Hagar Wilde. He laughed so much that he wanted to make a film of the story, which I'm sure you know was called Bringing Up Baby. He had time to spare, considering that he was being stalled out in making "Gunga Din" (which was worked out eventually by George Stevens). Wilde wrote the story and co-wrote the screenplay with Dudley Nichols (known for his structure work with films such as The Informer three years earlier) that retained a chase for a docile cat (panther in the story, leopard in the movie) in the wilderness of Connecticut. Look, sometimes you have to say audiences don't always know what the hell they want. This is especially true here for a film that only would make a small profit upon subsequent re-release. Perhaps most famously, Hepburn would be referred to as "box office poison" by the Independent Theatre Owners of America a couple of months after the release of this film in 1938, who referred her as having an excellent performance but also referring to it and another film in Stage Door as flops when closing out by saying "Sound judgment and good business sense are valuable assets in an industry that is far from being an art." Believe it or not, Hawks actually had Harold Lloyd in mind first for the lead role played by Grant. The studio rejected that suggestion and offered the role to a handful of others that rejected it. Lloyd apparently told Hawks that the film was the "best constructed comedy" he ever saw, which I'm sure has something to do with Grant and his portrayal that surely was modeled after Lloyd (right down to the glasses). Walter Catlett (a veteran of vaudeville and a number of films since the early 20th century) was brought in to help out Hepburn and her early jitters with doing comedy and ended up having a key role in the film as well. This was the second of four films with Grant and Hepburn after Sylvia Scarlett (1935), Holiday (1938) and The Philadelphia Story (1940), and it was her work in the latter of the four that resulted in Hepburn's first of four Academy Award wins, proving the old lesson that sometimes words on print really are worth less than toilet paper.

It is a profoundly silly movie, the screwiest kind of screwball movies that could only be done by a craftsman of energetic filmmaking. Hawks may have thought that the film had a few too many zany characters, but the main thing that is told here is that at the end of the day, it is better to enjoy life with free-spirited energy rather than try to stick with dignity. Hawks later stated that the way he achieved such vast pace is by pacing the actors "quickly within the frame rather than cross cutting fast". This results in a zany film filled with consistent energy from beginning to end that delivers everything you would think comes in these types of films without failing in the goal of worthwhile comedy. The 102-minute runtime is the ideal time to try and wrap these odd little characters for one wholly watchable feature that never plods in how it presents these two main people and the winding road they are tied to in amusing predicaments, complete with a select handful of ad-libs. Grant was already a comedic name on the rise with The Awful Truth (1937), because he really was quite the charmer who could hold his own with any kind of material and any kind of requirement, which in this case involves flustered panic. You can see pretty easily from the first sequence involving old bones and where his energies have to lie with such vaunted people. Hepburn is a free spirit of the highest order in impulse, one who has such a great chemistry with Grant that never leaves our mind from the very get-go. They make for such a great pair together, one zigging where the other is zagging without a false note detected among their interactions or ones where Grant is left trying to spin out of a spinning top of absurd situations, one of which involves a torn dress and a hat and another involving waiting to be heard in the middle of a convoluted explanation. They make a quality pair in both timing and, eventually, romance. Robson (a veteran of the stage who became a noted film presence at the ripe age of her seventies) amuses as the dignified straight one among the proceedings to be accompanied by Ruggles and his befuddled attitude among would-be hunters. They are swept up into probably the most interesting of all confounding situations when it comes to Catlett and the belief of just who is really who and the case of one (or two? or none?) leopard. It is the kind of film with quality animal performances (Nissa, the leopard who is used to play both the docile and circus leopard and Skippy, already familiar from The Thin Man) to go with quality timing that practically is as timeless as one would hope to expect in a comedy of screwy manners. The only real debate is just how damn good it is within the career of Howard Hawks and his immeasurable qualities in filmmaking.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

If I Were King.

Review #2018: If I Were King.

Cast: 

Ronald Colman (François Villon), Basil Rathbone (King Louis XI), Frances Dee (Katherine DeVaucelles), Ellen Drew (Huguette), C. V. France (Father Villon), Henry Wilcoxon (Captain of the Watch), Heather Thatcher (the Queen), Stanley Ridges (Rene de Montigny), Bruce Lester (Noel de Jolys), Alma Lloyd (Colette), Walter Kingsford (Tristan l'Hermite), and Sidney Toler (Robin Turgis) Produced and Directed by Frank Lloyd (#099 - Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), #1321 - The Sea Hawk, and #1339 - Cavalcade)

Review: 

Based on the early 20th century play and novel of the same name Justin Huntly McCarthy that involved the noted French poet François Villon, it probably doesn't surprise you to see this film among the list of ones done in the 1930s when it comes to literary inspirations. It wasn't the first adaptation, as Fox Film did one in 1920 with William Farnum as Villon. John Barrymore took his crack at it in 1927 with The Beloved Rogue. A 1925 operetta adaptation was turned into a 1930 musical operetta film with Dennis King. Two further adaptations have followed since this film, with François Villon (a French 1945 film) and The Vagabond King (1956). Who better to do a historical drama than Frank Lloyd? Sure, he may not be the most noted name among famed folks with multiple Academy Awards, but Lloyd specialized himself as a reliable director in both the silent and sound era. He had been born in Glasgow, but he only became an actor after seeing his travels in Canada as a would-be rancher and telephone company worker turn to Los Angeles in 1913. Needless to say, he made a variety of films, with Berkeley Square (1933) being his favorite. If I Were King was actually made in the latter stage of Lloyd's career, as he would retire for the first time in 1946 before a brief comeback with Republic Pictures in the 1950s. A studio man in the most complimentary of senses, he did films for studios from Fox Film to Paramount to Warner Bros. Oh, and this is a film that saw a script written by Preston Sturges. Sturges had made his way to Hollywood as a contributor to dialogue and script work in the 1930s (having first served as a playwright on Broadway) with films such as The Big Pond (1930) and The Power and the Glory (1933). Two years after the release of this film, he would become a director by selling his script The Great McGinty for "ten dollars" and the rest is history. 

It probably isn't surprising to see that even the reign of King Louis XI can lend itself to interesting biodrama with a bit of action and light touch of comedy. Well, having Ronald Colman as the lead actor is a pretty big help, because he brings a great presence of dignity that you would expect from a man of his talents. This time around, playing a poet with elements of the scoundrel that makes a mostly interesting film about the nature of what it really means to say one could do things on the level of a king (defender of the faith, don't forget), especially when playing a loose interpretation of an author that no one knows the fate of after his banishment in 1463 (incidentally, Louis IX became king in 1461 and reigned until 1483). Rathbone provides the support required in an eccentric that plays along in the charade (it is a romanticization after all) in a way that generates some amusement while never forgetting his place on the throne and the ways that he maneuvers people like pawns on a chess board. The little game that the two play of seeing how one would do "if I were King" is really more than just a series of little royal hijinks, instead serving as a trial of pride, one where the King can play both observer and executor. Of course, the romance between Colman and Dee is meant to be the real game of guesswork, and they do make a fine pairing for what is needed beyond the illusions that arise from the film (one built on it because of the very nature of Villon's fate). The rest of the cast do just fine in support, all serving as pawns in this weird little game of "who's playing who" that range from winded father figures in France or friends of the once-low man in Drew or Toler. The 101-minute runtime goes without many hitches, setting up its key conceit within the first 40 minutes without dawdling, and the climax is apt enough to patch things out handily enough. So yes, it is a ham-handed telling of poet and king in who is really setting who up, but it is an enthusiastic film with a useful script, a servicable director and worthy lead performances in Colman and Rathbone to carry things over the finish line with plenty to recommend in the long run, as one would hope from a film of its ilk.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Lady Vanishes.

Review #2014: The Lady Vanishes.

Cast: 

Margaret Lockwood (Iris Henderson), Michael Redgrave (Gilbert), Paul Lukas (Dr. Hartz), May Whitty (Miss Froy), Cecil Parker (Mr. Todhunter), Linden Travers ("Mrs." Todhunter), Naunton Wayne (Caldicott), Basil Radford (Charters), and Mary Clare (Baroness) 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, and #1828 - Rebecca)

Review: 

Admittedly, I haven't covered many British films in the line of Alfred Hitchcock, but the man made a film in six different decades, so clearly there will be time yet to cover more of his films, especially when doing 18 of them isn't even covering half of his filmography. The Lady Vanishes is the penultimate film that Hitchcock made in his native England, as he would move to the States to direct in Hollywood after Jamaica Inn (1939). He had attracted attention with previous British classics such as The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935), and American producer David O. Selznick believed he had talent waiting in America. However, Hitchcock still had a contract to go through with Gainsborough Pictures (with this being the 12th and final film with the studio), and it just so happened that a film idea called "The Lost Lady" fell into his lap, as plans to do the film with Roy William Neill fell through when background filing in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia ended in embarrassment. The film is based on the novel The Wheel Spins by Ethel Lina White, with a screenplay by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder. The book has been adapted once more in film in 1979 (a Hammer production with Cybill Shepherd and Elliott Gould as stars) and it has been adapted to television (most recently as 2013 on BBC One) and radio. The nature of the book was shifted by Hitchcock and company, most notably with the climax, since the book did not have a gunfight resolution. There have also been thriller films released with premises that sound a bit similar to the one presented here, such as with So Long at the Fair (1950), about a suddenly missing hotel room and Flightplan (2005), which involved a missing daughter on a plane.

The patience one has with an innocent being thrust into peril will determine just how much of its exhilarating attempts at mystery thrills work for you, with most of it being set on a train filled with a few characters that have evident reasons to maintain the status quo no matter what. With a 97-minute runtime, it does a reasonable job with building the eventual confrontation that comes with trying to confront bold-faced statements without cheating. Lockwood makes a useful lead to follow with when it comes to a archetype familiar in a handful of Hitchcock films: an innocent thrust into a situation with little choice but to dig their way out. Granted, dealing with oddball hotel people that either won't shut up about cricket or music is pretty mundane when compared to missing old ladies, but I'm sure you get the picture of seeing how an ordinary person like her could get swept up in a sea of people being human in "decision-making"; Hitchcock once described her having a gift for both "expressing her beauty in terms of emotion" when it comes to camera shots and also the insight to get the feel of lines, and she became a prominent British star for several years. Redgrave was in his first film role after spending time in the theater, and he does pretty well here in general conviction for wavering belief when spent with Lockwood (whether the belief to mess with her or to be on her side). Lukas and his veteran presence makes a quality adversary in swift conviction that keeps the viewer occupied. Whitty makes a quality presence to serve as the title character, which goes over better when compared to Wayne and Radford, who actually played these "characters" (comedy relief) for a handful of other movies- eh, theyre okay. The funniest thing that happens is probably when one of the characters gets shot the hand when stumbling into a standoff. That, or the attempt at trying to get a "nun" away quietly.

Honestly, I wish I liked it more, but I suppose being a "good" film that just meets expectations is better than being a supposed great film that flounders if one expects way too much. The climax is when the film tries to play neat and tidy with resolving things in clever fashion, which does work out fine. As a whole, it certainly is a movie worth recommending for those quite familiar with the famed director Alfred Hitchcock, especially if one wants to see exactly where the line went from his British roots in directing to taking on Hollywood came with this particular film. You will find plenty to like if you are in the mood for it, and some have even called it one of his best films, so take that for what it is worth.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

You and Me.

Review #2009: You and Me.

Cast:

Sylvia Sidney (Helen), George Raft (Joe Dennis), Barton MacLane (Mickey), Harry Carey (Mr. Morris), Roscoe Karns (Cuffy), George E. Stone (Patsy), Warren Hymer (Gimpy), Robert Cummings (Jim), Adrian Morris (Knucks), and Roger Gray (Bath House) Directed by Fritz Lang (#333 - M, #500 - Metropolis, #1365 - Scarlet Street, #1619 - Destiny)

Review: 

As the story goes, Norman Krasna wrote up a story at the request of Paramount Pictures that would have George Raft as a star. Krasna, for those who don't know, had gone from an ambition to do journalism to work his way into becoming a drama critic before moving onto playwrighting to then becoming a studio writer, first with Columbia before moving onto others such as Paramount. In fact, one of his ideas for a script would become the basis for what became Fury (1936) at MGM, with Krasna receiving a co-credit and a subsequent Oscar nomination. Important to the story of the film that eventually became a film is that Krasna wanted to direct it. However, Carole Lombard read the script and found it interesting (after plans had been done to have Raft star with Helen Burgess), which then made Paramount want someone to direct who, well, had experience directing, because Raft and Lombard wanted someone with experience. At any rate, Krasna was let go from directing, which was meant to go for Richard Wallace before it eventually landed to Fritz Lang, as asked by Sylvia Sidney (who had starred in Fury and You Only Live Once (1937), as directed by Lang), who was brought on to star with Raft. Lang later called the film his first flop ("deservedly") while saying that he had wanted to make a "didactic" film while having influence from Bertolt Brecht, a good friend of his that had made a theatre style called Lehrstück that basically was a play that would teach you something. Virginia Van Upp (a child actress-turned-script writer/reader/casting director/agent) is credited with the screenplay, although Jack Moffitt did uncredited work as well. As for Krasna, he would eventually get his chance to direct, albeit in the 1940s with Princess O'Rourke (1943), which he also wrote.

The movie is an odd curiosity, that much is certain. It is probably not too hard to see why the movie did not make much of an impact with audiences, because it was an odd film to have a guy like Raft star in a film with Lang that is more of a quirky crime film rather than straight drama. Of course, it is a decent movie, one that is fairly watchable if one has the patience for a film that is just a bit off center when it comes to teaching about just where crime really can go when it comes to a businessman who wants ex-cons to work for him to give them a second chance at things that might as well serve as more of a means to one's end in streetwise foundation. Oh, and there is a bit of a romance alongside things as well. Raft once described his ambitions when it came to acting as simply wanting "to be me", which basically meant he wasn't trying to just stick to roles similar to his presence-making turn in Scarface (1932), which led to a handful of suspensions from the studios he worked with, since he did not want really want to play heels (hell, he was a dancer before becoming an actor). As such, his charm is basically room temperature, which means he reacts to the situations around him with the mildest of reactions, as if the only thing that can faze him is being behind the ball when the final score is up (of which I mean the score of life). Besides, with a passionate Sidney (who appeared a handful of gangster films in the time period, with some exceptions) around, one finds that the movie moves along well enough already. Her well-meaning procession of foolhardy attempts to keep the one she loves and the secret she holds just as dear firmly away from each other, and she does the best to make the dilemma matter (making a case of "you dummie" into "oh, poor dummie"). Of course, the real highlight is a sequence near the end in trying to point out just how much one really could make when robbing a store when detailing all of the costs that come with the setup, which she handles with splendid timing that makes a simple "go home and think about coming to work on time tomorrow!" all the more fun. The supporting folks are mostly there to fill the chorus of would-be returnees to crime, which work in small bits of charm that mostly come from Hymer and his demeanor. Maybe there is a sense of irony to see Carey, an actor known for his rugged frame actor (generally seen in Westerns) playing an owner who likes to hire parolees. At any rate, it is an strange curiosity, one that isn't merely a crime drama or a straight romance because of the fact that it likes to dwell on the absurdity that comes with trying to find where the real game is at when it comes to something as simple as "you and me". As a whole, it may stretch itself a bit thin for 94 minutes, but it is firmly watchable and certainly something that should be considered for viewing among the curiosities that made the career of Fritz Lang all the more involving for what he did end up bringing to the screen in vision.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Topper Takes a Trip.

Review #1829: Topper Takes a Trip.

Cast: 

Constance Bennett (Marion Kerby), Roland Young (Cosmo Topper), Billie Burke (Clara Topper), Alan Mowbray (Wilkins, Topper's butler), Verree Teasdale (Mrs. Nancy Parkhurst), Franklin Pangborn (Louis), Alexander D'Arcy (Baron de Rossi), Spencer Charters (Judge), Irving Pichel (Prosecutor), and Asta the dog (Mr. Atlus) Directed by Norman Z. McLeod. (#688 - Horse Feathers and #1346 - Topper)

Review: 

You remember the 1937 movie Topper, do you? Well, maybe not, but I'm sure a little refresher would not hurt. The original film featured Cary Grant, Constance Bennett, Roland Young, Billie Burke, and Alan Mowbray in an adaptation of the 1926 novel of the same name by Thorne Smith. The movie was about newly-dead folks who come back as ghosts and decide to do a good deed in order to be stuck in limbo, which involves helping their stuffy and tired friend - wacky hijinks ensue, at least what you would call hijinks from the 1930s. McLeod, a director of comedies such as Monkey Business (1931), returns as director and all except Grant in the main cast return for this film, while Jack Jevne and Eddie Moran return to write the sequel, with Corey Ford joining as screenwriter. Perhaps not surprisingly, the film features footage taken from the 1937 film as a recap, complete with a thanks given to Grant for allowing the footage to be used. A sequel followed in 1941 called Topper Returns, which retained Young and Burke. 

Instead of a husband learning to loosen up (alongside his social climbing wife), now we have a story about a ghost trying to bring them back together as opposed to divorce - perish the thought of him trying to explain that the only friend he is seeing is a friendly ghost, who now is accompanied by a ghost dog. Oh, and there is a trip to Paris that sees all of them together and I think you know how it ends. Honestly, the only thing that might be a highlight is the effects by Roy Seawright, who received the only Academy Award nomination for the film for Best Special Effects. Bennett and Young are fine actors, but man I was not really that invested in this film. It exemplifies all the average qualities of an average movie that is just not quite my thing, since it is barely funny and barely that compelling, mostly because I see a movie that is going through the motions with ghost hijinks that aren't really that clever to see actually play out. 80 minutes go by with creaky maneuvering that never really incites a big guffaw or even a big groan, not even for the dog (of The Thin Man notice). Young is staid as ever, but it felt more interesting the first time around with him as a foil. Bennett may be playful, but the movie is sorely lacking her having Grant to play on as a proper freewheeling duo with charm for the proper bubbly flavor. Instead, it comes off as milk that seems spoiled in the wrong light. Burke seems there for the ride more than anything, not really making it any funnier or less enjoyable, which basically means a neutral result (Mowbray is hardly noticeable). It's hard to even come up with many highlights or odd scenes to really spot besides just saying "oh, that's a thing". There are basically two roads of thought when it comes to films from the 1930s: good ones you can recommend without too much trouble, and ones that are harder to watch or recommend. So, with the sequel to Topper, it's all up to you.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

As boring as this review might seem, at least one interesting thing happened this week: 

THE RIO GRANDE VALLEY VIPERS WON THE NBA G-LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP! Imagine seeing your region winning a championship for the fourth time in twelve years. What a feeling.

Two Gun Man from Harlem.

Review #1796: Two Gun Men From Harlem.

Cast: 

Herb Jeffries (Bob Blake/The Deacon), Margaret Whitten (Sally Thompson), Clarence Brooks (John Barker), Mantan Moreland (Bill Blake), Stymie Beard (Jimmy Thompson), Spencer Williams, Jr. (Butch Carter), Mae Turner (Mrs. Ruth Steel), Jesse Lee Brooks (Sheriff), Rose Lee Lincoln (Dolores), and Tom Southern (John Steel) Written and Directed by Richard C. Kahn.

Review: 

"A good entertainer, a man with a vision and the fortitude to make it a reality, is an inspiration to all children, of any color, and he's a man we all can look up to."

Admittedly, some movies are more obscure than others. Two Gun Man from Harlem isn't exactly the "first" of anything, since the Western was quite prevalent for several decades. But the story of Herb Jeffries is the most curious. He had been born Umberto Alexander Valentino in Detroit, Michigan in 1913 to an Irish mother and a father of mixed origin (later stated by Jeffries as Sicilian); he did not know his father, and he listed Howard Jeffrey (his black stepfather) in census documents as his father, going so far as to take his last name while adopting an African American identity. He had an interest in singing from a young age, even dropping out of high school to earn a living as one. He had a good word put in by Louis Armstrong, who inspired him to move to Chicago. The reason he is known as Herb Jeffries springs to a recording he made in 1940 with Duke Ellington, as the hit record credits mistakenly called him by that name (leading him to him re-naming himself to fit the typo). He would have a lengthy career in jazz to go with a varied career in film and television. There were a few inspirations listed for why he wanted to make an all-black Western, either ranging from his appreciation of the silent Western films in his heyday, wanting to see black youths get their own cowboy icon...or seeing The Terror of Tiny Town (produced by Jed Buell that had starred little people). The latter inspiration is probably the most accurate, since Buell funded and co-directed the first Jeffries vehicle Harlem on the Prairie (1937). He would do four more afterwards: Two Gun Man from Harlem (1938), Rhythm Rodeo (1938), The Bronze Buckaroo (1939) and Harlem Rides the Range (1939). Referred to as both "The Bronze Cowboy" and the "Bronze Buckaroo", he also once described himself as a "chameleon", and he would do eighteen roles in film/television before his death in 2014 at the age of 100. He may not have been the Western icon of singing like Gene Autry for example, but Jeffries at least deserves a mention of curiosity in the Western lexicon, and his story seems quite suitable to mention for this particular month.

Keep in mind, Harlem on the Prairie was a fair hit, and time is surely not one thing to waste. Richard C. Kahn wanted to do features with Jeffries, and three of the four films he made in the late 1930s was under the character of "Bob Blake", with Kahn being responsible for all of the "Blake" films, which were done at Murray's Dude Ranch in Apple Valley, California that received distribution by Sack Amusement Enterprises (coincidentally, Sack was also behind distribution of a number of Oscar Micheaux features). Kahn would also do the first all-black science fiction horror film with Son of Ingagi (1940). So yes, the singing cowboy is a curious part of the Western. Jeffries sings "I’m a Happy Cowboy" accompanied by The Cats and the Fiddle while The Four Tones also appears for a song. This film is a minor entry in that genre, since the singing part is in the beginning before the real plot steps in: a cowboy assumes the identity of a preacher/gangster lookalike trying to infiltrate a gang that framed him for murder. As a B-movie, it is quite average, but at least one can see that there is an hour worth spending here when it comes to light entertainment. Jeffries might be the best part of the film, in that he makes the material at least seem better than "surface level", keeping the proceedings going with a fair amount of charisma that is required in a film that could burst with how ridiculous the proceedings get (cowboys turning into gangsters that happen to look like each other). Incidentally, this is one of the first film roles for Mantan Moreland, who had spent a number of years in vaudeville and nightclubs before he became a film actor in the late 1930s (his particular comic style would be scrutinized in the 1950s, but he did maintain work until his death in 1973). His comic relief does fine here, in that he gives a bit of levity to an otherwise staid movie (the same is true for Beard, but adults are usually funnier than kids anyway). As a whole, while the production values are mild at best, it proves serviceable for anyone who is curious about low budget quickies made in a time long ago that does exactly what you think it will do without question.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Home of the Brave (1949)

The Terror of Tiny Town.

Review #1597: The Terror of Tiny Town.

Cast:

Billy Curtis (Buck Lawson), Yvonne Moray (Nancy Preston), Little Billy Rhodes (Bat Haines), Billy Platt (Jim 'Tex' Preston), John T. Bambury (Pop Lawson), Joseph Herbst (The Sheriff), Charlie Becker (Otto the Cook), Nita Krebs (Nita), George Ministeri (Armstrong), Karl Karchy Kosiczky (Sammy), and Fern Formica (Diamond Dolly) Directed by Sam Newfield (#436 - Dead Men Walk)

Review:

“When I was first offered the role of the sheriff, they didn’t want to pay my established salary. Then we were all directed like we were children. Small, in the minds of stupid people, is kiddie stuff. So first they try to exploit little people. Then they patronize you. And when the picture comes out, then the audience laughs at you. Why? Not because we were low budget, because most westerns then were Bs. Because we rode ponies. What would a person my size ride – a stallion? I played the good guy who put the bad guy behind bars at the end – just like John Wayne. And I kissed the pretty girl – just like he did. So what the hell’s so funny?”

Truly, I can say without any doubt in my mind that you have not seen anything like this. A Western with music? Sure, you have seen that before, particularly with saloon scenes...but have you seen one with an all-dwarf cast? No, you have not, unless you like to specialize in the smallest of the barrel public domain features, or you just happen to like something offbeat. Supposedly, the film was inspired by a comment made about with a continued low economy, filmmakers could have to use "midgets for actors." The film was directed by Sam Newfield, who while not exactly known as a great director was known for one thing: making movies and making lots of them. From 1933 to 1958, he reportedly made over 200 feature films, with his foray also including shorts and other various B-projects, which were generally spent with Producers Releasing Corporation (also known as PRC Pictures; his brother Sigmund Neufeld generally served as a producer on those films), where he even made films under a fake name to hide his considerable presence over PRC films. In 1938 alone, he made fifteen feature films. Incidentally, One film he had done with Jed Buell the previous year was Harlem on the Prairie (1937), which featured popular singer Herbert Jeffrey as a singing cowboy in the first black Western musical. With this feature, it was made for roughly $100,000, and it managed to find itself distributed by Columbia Pictures, and Buell actually wanted to make a whole series of films with dwarf actors, including one about the Paul Bunyan myth...wrap your head around that. Fred Myton wrote the film, with Clarence Marks providing additional dialogue, which is who one can cite for such...interesting dialogue, such as referring to "big orders" or "getting smallpox from him", and so on and so forth. If one can get behind occasional songs (I am generally not familiar with the singing cowboy archetype), including some dubious dubbing, here is...an offering?

Honestly, the only reason to even think about the film at all for coverage is to wonder exactly how far they will go with this film about a dwarf Western. Oh you better believe they drag themselves all the way to the natural conclusion, reflected by its 62 minute run-time. Did you ever want to see people ride Shetland ponies? Or how about entering a bar by going under the door? Welp, here's your big chance to see all that and not much else in a pretty stale feature. You may or may not get a weird chuckle at seeing anyone ride a Shetland pony for a short moment, but it is such a blandly drawn out affair, reflected by repetitive music and a plot that goes exactly the way one will see coming in its first 20 minutes (by that point, you're already a third in, so why quit?). There may be "jokes" present, but it is wrapped under such stock blandness that a usual B-movie cast would result in nearly the same film (but hey, this one has "half-pints in 10 gallon hats!" - an actual tagline used on release), mostly because Placeritos Ranch (in Placerita Canyon, California) probably wouldn't seem so vast in size here. Curtis was once described as "handsome" alongside "quite arrogant", mostly because he had quite a bit of success when it came to vaudeville (he would act for roughly 50 years before his death). He, alongside Rhodes, Bambury, Herbst, Becker, Krebs, Ministeri, Formica, and O'Docharty, would later have parts as Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz (1939). Everyone is pretty flat here, but at least he was proud of his role (as stated by that quote listed here, although its last statement isn't actually accurate - the bad guy dies due to dynamite exploding on him). They might not be great actors, but at least no one seems like they want to clown for scenery points (although Becker is used for silly moments, like trying to chase a duck down for food). Although presented as part of Buell's company of little people, a selection of the actors were actually part of Singer's Midgets, a performing troupe formed by Leo Singer that had popularity in its time of the early 20th century (this was also the case for The Wizard of Oz, which had over a hundred dwarf actors featured). Would you call this exploitation? Aside from a bubble of slapstick humor and a weird little opening that talks about the "novelty picture" one is about to see, everything is done with cut and dry size, which means it is best suited for those wanting to watch something curious that will be weird without thinking they are watching some actor or crew is being treated terribly. Is it the worst film ever? Of course not, but it sure is a turkey film, bland in all but its main sticking point to be remembered for after eight decades. Truly, a stinker can come in all shapes and sizes.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Surprise! There has been a diverse bit of films covered over the month of November in the prevailing years, although according to my records the first one to be covered on Thanksgiving Day was Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown (and Don't Come Back!!) (#489, in 2013). Home Sweet Home (#669, 2014), and Monster A-Go-Go (#756, 2015) followed, but its time for something interesting to mesh with the whole week leading on from Sunday to Saturday: Turkey Week, which will be dedicated to films with the reputation of being a "turkey", for better or worse. The goal is to feature at least five films from today until the 28th, and the surprise is to not know what is coming too far in advance...with the next one being: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948).

Algiers.

Review #1348: Algiers.

Cast: 
Charles Boyer (Pepe le Moko), Sigrid Gurie (Ines), Hedy Lamarr (Gaby), Joseph Calleia (Inspector Slimane), Alan Hale (Grandpere), Gene Lockhart (Regis), Walter Kingsford (Chief Inspector Louvain), Paul Harvey (Commissioner Janvier), Stanley Fields (Carlos), and Johnny Downs (Pierrot) Directed by John Cromwell (#1008 - The Racket and #1341 - Of Human Bondage)

Review: 
It should only figure that some films come from doing it over again for a different audience. As much as one can bemoan the shrinking originality of doing the same source material numerous times (then and now), interest does tend to rise a bit when it comes to how a remake fares in a different country. In this sense, Algiers is a remake of Pépé le Moko (1937), a French film based on the novel of the same name by Henri La Barthe, featuring Jean Gabin as star and Julien Duvivier as director (there also was a musical remake with Casbah in 1948). Of note is the American debut of Sigrid Gurie (who was born in New York but had grown up primarily in Norway) and Hedy Lamarr, who had made appearances in five films (all but one being from either her native Austria or Germany) from 1930 to 1933, with an encounter of Louis B. Mayer scouting for European talent helping to lead her to a Hollywood career, with Walter Wanger serving as producer for this feature. Another emigrant serving as star for this film was Boyer, who had started his career in his native France in 1920 before making a move to do Hollywood films alongside his French films in 1930. He soon gained a reputation as a leading man for romantic dramas, with his work being recognized through four Best Actor nominations (including one for this film) before his last film in 1976. The remake would keep certain aspects of the original, most notably with a majority of the music alongside background sequences (at least ones that weren't shot in Algiers and later integrated later into the film by cinematographer James Wong Howe), although censor demands led to the ending being different (murder rather than suicide), along with other aspects. Boyer was not a big fan of his work on the film, since Cromwell wanted him to emulate Gabin (even running scenes from the original), which he disliked doing as an actor, although Cromwell later gave compliment to Boyer on how his performance had been different from each other in terms of nuance. He certainly does a fine job with this film, where one gets a sense of allure and curiosity from whenever he is on screen, a certain kind of confidence that resonates whenever on screen with someone like Lamarr or his on-screen cohorts. The romance that occurs within this triangle comes out with a bit of passion, although Cromwell felt that Lamarr's problem was that she could not act (stating that he could take some of the credit for making her acting passable, while sharing it with Boyer). She provides some exotic charm, a raw but expressive presence that does tend to benefit when on-screen with Boyer more than anyone (which I suppose isn't too surprising). Gurie pulls off an anguished side of this triangle neatly enough, not getting lost in the shuffle too much. Calleia makes for a decent adversary, while Hale provides a bit of wise levity alongside an effective sniveling Lockhart among the rest. The film moves at a fair pace with 99 minutes, although one does not really seem to sense too much suspense inside it. One gets a fair amount of fleeting pleasure, which should be enough for most. At least one can see why it served as one of the inspirations to be patterned for Casablanca (1942). It goes on the strengths of curiosity over its atmosphere and romance with agreeable results, and its free status in the public domain makes this a curiosity worth seeking out without any doubt.

Next Time: It won't be Love Affair, since an addition has been made to go right before that film to make for a 1939 trifecta to close out February's 30s tribute. That film will be Stagecoach.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Jezebel (1938).

Review #1022: Jezebel.

Cast: 
Bette Davis (Julie Marsden), Henry Fonda (Preston Dillard), George Brent (Buck Cantrell), Donald Crisp (Dr. Livingstone), Fay Bainter (Aunt Belle Massey), Margaret Lindsay (Amy Bradford Dillard), Richard Cromwell (Ted Dillard), Henry O'Neill (General Theopholus Bogardus), Spring Byington (Mrs. Kendrick), John Litel (Jean La Cour), Gordon Oliver (Dick Allen), and Janet Shaw (Molly Allen) Directed by William Wyler (#509 - Roman Holiday)

Review: 
Admittedly, it is hard to talk about the film without comparing it to Gone with the Wind (#569), which was released one year after this movie, which was based off the 1933 play of the same name by Owen Davis. It has been stated that Davis got the role as a sort of a consolation prize for not being awarded the role of Scarlett O'Hara, which went to Vivien Leigh. However, it should also be mentioned that the original actress intended for the role for Jezebel was Tallulah Bankhead, but she fell ill during rehearsals.

In any case, Davis won an Academy Award for Best Actress (her second and final career win) and Banter would win one for Best Supporting Actress for this movie. For the time, Davis' character must have come off as shocking (manipulating people for love and wearing red to a party), but she just comes off as spiteful and not all too compelling, even with her story arc. It should be noted that Davis does pull of a fine performance, though. I will say that her character is mildly compelling to see progress through the movie, but the ending is a bit odd with her motivations, which seems a bit tacked on. The other performances are pretty consistent, and they (along with the production values) help in making for a film that is at the very least dazzling, with Fonda being a fine standout along with Brent and Bainter. The sequence with Davis and Fonda at the ball is a particular highlight in striking tone. The black-and-white photography is fine, but this is a film that probably should've been filmed in color in order to to make the red dress that she notably wears stand out (this is coming from someone who has nothing against black-and-white, of course). The run-time of 103 minutes is fine for the romantic drama that it wants to be, with a few interesting scenes that make it worth it just enough. It doesn't hold too much of a candle to the other more famous film that followed a year later, but if you look past that and try to see the movie for its own worth, you will find it something that is probably worth a look.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Adventures of Robin Hood.

Review #505: The Adventures of Robin Hood.

Cast
Errol Flynn (Robin Hood), Olivia de Havilland (Maid Marian), Basil Rathbone (Sir Guy of Gisbourne), Claude Rains (Prince John), Patric Knowles (Will Scarlett), Eugene Pallette (Friar Tuck), Alan Hale Sr. (Little John), Herbert Mundin (Much), Melville Cooper (High Sheriff of Nottingham), Una O'Connor (Bess), and Ian Hunter (King Richard the Lionheart) Directed by Michael Curtiz (#125 - Casablanca and #416 - Yankee Doodle Dandy) and William Keighley (#501 - The Man Who Came to Dinner)

Review
This is the first film I've reviewed that starred Errol Flynn, along with the first of Olivia de Havilland, and they both are impressive, especially when they are paired together in scenes. Flynn is quite the adventurer and he does an extremely great job in the action scenes and the swashbuckling. Basil Rathbone (who I wanted to talk about in more detail when I eventually got to reviewing The Hound of the Baskervilles) is an effective adversary, getting a good fight with Robin at the end, but also being a good foil as well. Claude Rains lurks around as a fine villain that while not having a fight scene, is still a useful villain. The rest of the cast are effective at entertaining, especially Herbert Mundin, who while not given much to do, makes an impression, at least for me anyways. The action is excellent and the Technicolor give the film a colorful, yet memorable look. This is a well made, excellent adventure film that hasn't dated much, if at all.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: A Christmas Carol (1938).

Review #503: A Christmas Carol.

Cast
Reginald Owen (Ebenezer Scrooge), Gene Lockhart (Bob Cratchit), Kathleen Lockhart (Mrs. Cratchit), Terry Kilburn (Tiny Tim Cratchit), Barry MacKay (Fred), Lynne Carver (Bess), Bunny Beatty (Martha Cratchit), June Lockhart (Belinda Cratchit), John O'Day (Peter Cratchit), Leo G. Carroll (Marley's Ghost), Lionel Braham (Spirit of Christmas Present), Ann Rutherford (Spirit of Christmas Past), and D'Arcy Corrigan (Spirit of Christmas Future) Directed by Edwin L. Marin.

Review

Once again, I'm reviewing A Christmas Carol film (#075 - Scrooged, #076 - Scrooge (1951), #079 - A Christmas Carol (1984), #498 - The Muppet Christmas Carol), with actors like Bill Murray in a mediocre comedy, Allister Sim in a fine telling of the story, George C. Scott rather effectively playing Scrooge, to Michael Caine with Muppets. So with all of the other Christmas Carol films around, how is this? It's an okay film, but it feels really cut down. It lasts only about 70 minutes, it omits the part about Scrooge's past romance and Want and Ignorance are sorely missing, most likely due to wanting a family film, as I'm sure many families will enjoy the scene where Scrooge sees his own grave, truly a happy scene. The actors are fine though, Lockhart is okay, certainly a bright and energetic figure. While Reginald Owen isn't necessarily great, he does bring a presence that carries the film to a short, but mostly sweet finish line. Out of all the Christmas Carol films I've reviewed, this isn't the best one by any means, but if you want something short and mostly sweet, this is the one for you.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.