Intruder in the Dust.

Review #1969: Intruder in the Dust.

Cast: 

Juano Hernandez (Lucas Beauchamp), David Brian (John Gavin Stevens), Claude Jarman Jr (Chick Mallison), Porter Hall (Nub Gowrie), Elizabeth Patterson (Miss Eunice Habersham), Will Geer (Sheriff Hampton), Charles Kemper (Crawford Gowrie), David Clarke (Vinson Gowrie), Elzie Emanuel (Aleck), Lela Bliss (Mrs. Mallison), and Harry Hayden (Mr. Mallison) Directed by Clarence Brown (#423 - A Woman of Affairs, #433 - Angels in the Outfield, #484 - Plymouth Adventure, #1351 - The Rains Came) 

Review: 

The real reason that people care about the film in any way besides the usual crime movie elements is Juano Hernandez. He was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico in 1896 (two years prior to the region being acquired by the United States). Before becoming an actor, he worked as a sailor, a circus entertainer, and a boxer. He entered vaudeville in the late 1920s, doing various shows in New York City that included a Broadway debut with Show Boat in 1927. He did work for radio on programs such as Cavalcade of America. Hernandez had gotten his start in film with who else but Oscar Micheaux with the 1932 film The Girl from Chicago, the first of three appearances in a Micheaux feature (there were a few uncredited appearances in films here and there as well, but Intruder in the Dust was his first starring role). Until his death in 1970 at the age of 74, Hernandez was a regular presence in film, such as The Breaking Point (1950) and Trial (1955), although this film has generally been the one that he is best recognized for, in part because of his standout performance that paved the way for more involving roles for black actors. The movie is an adaptation of the 1948 novel of the same name by William Faulkner (which like a variety of his works employed a stream of consciousness style of narration). Incidentally, in order to make money, Faulkner served as a screenwriter for various films from 1932 until the 1950s (which resulted in scripts such as the 1944 adaptation To Have and Have Not). Faulkner was only semi-involved with the production, but it was shot in Oxford, Mississippi (where he had lived most of his life); it should be noted that while most of the cast got to enjoy the hospitality of the University of Mississippi, Hernandez was housed separately at the residence of an undertaker. The choice of director was the one who pushed to do a film of the book in Clarence Brown, who had been raised in Tennessee, had known Faulkner for a time in the late 1930s when Brown was a key director for MGM. Of course, the film only got the greenlight when Dore Schary, fresh off being hired as vice president of production, backed doing it despite the objections of studio head Louis B. Meyer. Ben Maddow wrote the script for the film.

The movie was not a major hit at the time, perhaps because of its minimal promotion or being on the tail-end of "message movies" (imagine watching Pinky or Home of the Brave and then deciding to ditch Intruder in the Dust). But at least it had a fan in Faulkner, who said it was a "fine job." As an 87-minute feature, it works quite well in the art of creating a careful yarn that is part-whodunit and part-look into oneself. It isn't so much about finding the truth about who committed the crime as it is finding the truth in how one could get wrapped up in a possible lynching in the first place. It is a film that does not wrap itself in pretentions of being something that it is not, being a Southern tale with biting truth all the way through (which is why Brown, a craftsman of various successes, deserves credit for making sure the film was not done within a studio backlot), one that is firmly made in a time for one to experience themselves in levels of uncomfortableness (such as its use of the N-word, for example). Obstinate is probably the best way to describe the character played by Hernandez, which is to say he is firmly confident in each scene he commands the screen, which doesn't require copious amounts of dialogue to get the point across of how engaging he proves to be. He isn't just a symbol utilized for some sort of message of tolerance for the sake of it, as he is no servant to misplaced pride. It is funny too, because Brian and Jarman are actually pretty good too, acting in their own type of tolerance angle with Hernandez in nuance that makes it an uneasy coming-of-age film as well, where adult figures are not cut and dry in helping one find easy answers in the building blocks of life. Sure, books/films such as To Kill a Mockingbird ended up enduring more in the public consciousness when it came to children and the destruction of innocence and moral heroes over a decade after the release of the film (each involve an accuser's family being of ill repute). However, Intruder in the Dust and its portrayal of the struggle to understand an adult world that doesn't make much sense with its teen character in Jarman is not to be forgotten to go with Brian and his double-act of prejudices and principles. This goes for Patterson as well, quietly effective in elder sophistication without intrusions of unsubtlety. At any rate, this is a movie to watch for Hernandez and company as a whole, with his cool confidence providing the spark for a rivetingly uncomfortable crime movie that is more than meets than the eye in the parts that matter most. It endures after over seven decades because it shows us how much work one still has to do in the matter of understanding and pride, whether in a small town or beyond.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song.

Souls of Sin.

Review #1968: Souls of Sin.

Cast: 

Savannah Churchill (Regina), Jimmy Wright (Dollar Bill), Billie Allen (Etta), William Greaves (Isaiah "Alabama" Lee), Emery Richardson (Roberts), Powell Lindsay (Bad Boy George), Louise Jackson (Mrs. Sands), and Charley Macrae (Mac) Written and Directed by Powell Lindsay.

Review: 

Admittedly, the obscure stuff makes for a film for curious spotlighting. Souls of Sin is generally considered one of the last "race films" made. These were films made outside of the Hollywood system by African Americans that were targeted for black audiences. I shouldn't say that it is the outright last one with black audiences in mind, because Carib Gold (1956) came out years later with showings that were segregated. It is the discovery of old nitrate films in a warehouse located in Tyler, Texas that we have to thank for the fact that a number of black films exist at all, which is now referred to as the Tyler Black Film Collection in the G. William Jones Film and Video Collection at Southern Methodist University. Powell Lindsay may not have been a well noted name of film, but he was still a noted name in other fields worth mentioning. He was the cofounder of the Harlem Suitcase Theater (with Langston Hughes, who he once felt would come to be recognized as the black Mark Twain) and the Negro Playwrights Company. He directed outside of the system after this film, such as "This Is Our America", done for the Panorama of Progress at the Michigan State Fairgrounds. He did research analysis for the state's legislative service bureau while founding an association of research for history of black people within the state of Michigan. He died in 1987 at the age of 82 from a long bout of cancer. The film was produced by William D. Alexander, who had gone from producing press releases and newsreels about black soldiers and sailors during World War II to forming his own production company. This included musical shorts and a couple of features, such as The Fight Never Ends, which had Joe Louis play himself. He moved to London in 1950 and made documentaries involving de-colonialization that promoted new African states, such as Liberia. Souls of Sin was his penultimate feature as a producer, because he returned to produce The Klansman (1974). I should've expected a movie that lasts barely an hour to have songs, with this including three of them: "The Things You Do To Me" by Savannah Churchill and Henry Glover, along with "Disappointment Blues” and “Lonesome Blues” by William Greaves. 

It's a shame that the movie isn't particularly that good, because it is at least a semi-curiosity given the time it was released. This was the year of Home of the Brave, Lost Boundaries, Pinky, and Intruder in the Dust, films that saw Hollywood try to make a movie with a focus on black characters that did not aim for the typical depiction of black people on screen (which is viewed in a variety of circles today as demeaning). Of course, Pinky and Lost Boundaries each had white actors in the lead roles of black people that could pass for white, so obviously the bar had to be set somewhere. It is basically a series of vignettes that results in only the mildest of interests, never really going far with any sort of story beyond static lines and a few songs. I can't recommend it, but it is at least a time vacuum with a curiosity factor that would make a strange double-header with Carib Gold for seeing a fading brand of aiming for a specific audience with specific tools (read: cheap budgets). Wright is known for both this and being involved in a small role within Orson Welles' 1936 production of "Voodoo Macbeth" and a small role in the 1980 "meta soap opera" Personal Problems. The role here is not much to really say favorably of, mostly because it isn't anything more than one-note lines about, uh, folks trying to make a living in a not-quite noir / drama. Billie Allen was noted for being one of the first black entertainers with a recurring role on network television along with appearing on TV commercials, and this was her film debut (she later became a director for the stage). Greaves had joined the Actors Studio in 1948 and had initially aspired to act before he moved to Canada in order to become a filmmaker. So yes, he gets to sing a bit here for a film that reminds one that there is more to films than being ahead of the camera. Honestly, the fact that the movie is mostly a happy one is the strange part, since it is a movie that doesn't really move particularly far in any direction, aside from a few diverting songs and a mildly entertaining climax. As a whole, this is a low-budget affair through and through that is a notch below stuff that Oscar Micheaux had done two decades prior, but it is a mild curiosity of seeing where films had to go when it came to the idea of aiming for black audiences beyond the small stuff and to see names get their chance in the spotlight.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Speaking of which, next time: Intruder in the Dust.

The Kid from Cleveland.

Review #1857: The Kid from Cleveland.

Cast: 

George Brent (Mike Jackson), Lynn Bari (Katherine Jackson), Russ Tamblyn (Johnny Barrows), Tommy Cook (Dan "The Kid" Hudson), Ann Doran (Emily Barrows Novak), Louis Jean Heydt (Carl Novak), K. Elmo Lowe (Dave Joyce), John Beradino (Mac), with Bill Veeck, Lou Boudreau, Tris Speaker, Hank Greenberg, Larry Doby, and many more. Directed by Herbert Kline.

Review: 

Let's be honest: the baseball material is the only drawing point of curiosity. That isn't to say that detailing the history of a young role for Russ Tamblyn is a bland experience, but one really does have to strain hard to not just immediately ask about how the Cleveland Indians (now known as the Guardians) got their own feature film. Well, I'm sure the answer is simply just Republic Pictures thinking that the 1948 club, who won the World Series over the Boston Braves, would possibly draw in a few local profits, complete with select footage utilized from the Series and bit lines from the stars on that team (along with certain moments with the 1949 team, who finished 3rd). Truthfully, the only reason I picked this movie was to talk about the 75th anniversary of Larry Doby making his debut in Major League Baseball, the second African American to play in the league and first in the American League. The Camden native had played five seasons for the Newark Eagles in black baseball before Cleveland owner/club president Bill Veeck signed him to a contract. The day of July 5, 1947 was three months after the debut of Jackie Robinson, and Doby's debut was serving as a pinch-hitter that saw him strike out on four pitches (contrary to Veeck's statement at the end of this film, Joe Gordon did not strike out after Doby to save face for his teammate, as Gordon was on base when Doby struck out). The next day, in the second game of a double-header, Doby started his first game in MLB at first base at Comiskey Park in Chicago, collecting his first hit and RBI. Doby had a tough first year, but he bounced back in 1948 to bat .300, and he was the first black player to hit a home run in the World Series in Game 4. Combining his statistics from his first season in 1942 to his last in 1959, he collected 273 home runs with 1,094 runs batted in while being named an All-Star eight times; after a long wait, Doby was named to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1998, finally cementing his place as one of the best players of his era and certainly the most underrated player. 

The film was written by Herbert Kline and John Bright (a founder of the Screen Writers Guild). Born in Iowa, Kline started his career as an editor for a magazine called New Theater before moving to New York to join the Photo League. Over time, he did manage to make a couple of features alongside documentary work, such as his work involving covering political crises in Europe such as the Spanish Civil War; he once described himself as a "foreign correspondent of the screen". The Fighter (1952) and the aforementioned Cleveland film are likely his most noted features, owing to his blacklisting in the 1950s due to the House Committee on Un-American Activities. The movie went by "The Cleveland Story" and "Pride of the Indians" before finally settling on the title we know now, which is a pleasant snooze in all of the average ways possible. Did I mention that this is a movie about a troubled teenager that finds help from the baseball team? This seems like it could have been made about any random sports team, even with all of the location shots of Cleveland Stadium and bits of League Park sprinkled in (which only begs the question if someone would have gone with "The Kid from Boston" if the Braves had won the Series instead?). For me, I would rather be sitting at Cleveland Stadium watching six future Hall of Famers try to play actor (to go with more interesting baseball footage) than watching Tamblyn trying to play juvenile delinquent. This was his first credited role for the Los Angeles native, who was fifteen years old when this film came out, although it would be a couple of years before he didn't have to go by "Rusty" Tamblyn. At any rate, his performance isn't much to write home about, probably fit for a morality play or an unintentional comedy than this hodgepodge. Brent and Bari don't exactly lend a hand to help either, since neither really elevate the drama beyond first gear nor generate interest in the material that a broomstick would do. Doran and Heydt don't exactly move the needle either in parental figures to Tamblyn. One knows exactly what they are going for in 89 minutes with no real particular surprises present, no matter how they try to play the juvenile angle or the inevitable custody battle.

The reason to maybe see the movie is to see the Cleveland of yesteryear, to see a winning ball club that had star power with distinct names and faces, whether that involved player/manager Lou Boudreau, or star batter Joe Gordon, or Doby, or star pitchers Bob Feller (a Hall of Famer and also a guy who devised a sign-stealing plan with fellow legend Bob Lemon involving a telescope) and Satchel Paige (who is seen depicting his hesitation pitch for one scene). Of course, they come off pretty stiff when a camera is focused on them besides baseball, but maybe the curiosity factor about their baseball stories can forgive some of that. Bill Veeck, the revolutionary showman owner, is probably the most curious presence in the film, even if one knows they are watching a showman rather than an actor. As a whole, it is more interesting to talk around the movie known as The Kid from Cleveland than it is to actually watch it, which is not a ringing endorsement unless one is a sentimental Clevelander. Average may be better than a portion of bad movies, but it still isn't enough to recommend over other (better) baseball movies.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Not Wanted.

Review #1811: Not Wanted.

Cast: 

Sally Forrest (Sally Kelton), Keefe Brasselle (Drew Baxter), Leo Penn (Steve Ryan), Dorothy Adams (Mrs. Aggie Kelton), Wheaton Chambers (Mr. Kelton), Rita Lupino (Joan), Audrey Farr (Nancy), Carole Donne (Jane), and Ruth Clifford (Mrs. Elizabeth Stone) Directed by Elmer Clifton and Ida Lupino (#799 - The Hitch-Hiker and #1651 - Never Fear)

Review: 

"I love being called Mother. I would never shout orders at anyone. I hate women who order men around, professionally or personally. I wouldn’t dare do that with my old man…and I don’t do it with guys on the set. I say, ‘Darlings, Mother has a problem. I’d love to do this. Can you do it? It sounds kooky but I want to do it.’ And they do it.”

If you remember correctly, Ida Lupino really wanted to a writer more than an actress. Of course, being a member of the Lupino family meant that there was some expectation placed on her to act. She did have a steady line of work within the industry, but she chafed at some of its trappings (most notably with Warner Bros, which she left in 1947), and she once described a Hollywood career as a perishable commodity. Not many folks can be referred to as the “English Jean Harlow" alongside her own nicknames for herself (once jokingly proposing that she went from being the "poor man's Bette Davis" to being the "poor man's Don Siegel"). She gained an interest in directing from seeing how it was done while on suspension from Warner Bros and felt it seemed more interesting than time spent on a set acting. In 1948, she would form "The Filmmakers Inc" alongside her husband producer/writer Collier Young and Malvin Wald. Hired to do the film for the year of 1949 was Elmer Clifton, who was known for his low-budget work within Westerns and exploitation films in a career that spanned both silent and sound. However, he suffered a heart attack on the third day of filming. Lupino would step in to direct the film, although she elected to not take directorial effort. She had also co-written the screenplay with Paul Jarrico (who in turn had co-written the story with Malvin Wald) and she also co-produced the film with Anson Bond, and one of the first credits on the film is "Ida Lupino presents" (as for Clifton, he died of a cerebral hemorrhage on October 15). At any rate, Lupino's film would do fine for itself enough to keep her on the forefront of making cheap productions under "The Filmmakers Inc.", which lasted until 1955. She would make just one further feature film as director after that while keeping busy as a television director alongside TV acting. She was credited by numerous colleagues for her patience and knowledge when it came to filmmaking and conferring with others on technique. This involved shooting on location or re-using sets or casting unknowns (such as her doctor in one film) or even product placement to help keep production afloat.

Apparently, there is also a version of the film that was done by exploitation filmmakers that liked to insert "educational" footage into films in order to slip by the Production Code (with one version called "The Wrong Rut"), and it is here where one would see inserted footage of an actual cesarian delivery. Of course, the real film doesn't even mention the word "pregnant", and its sequence in a hospital is particularly interesting for the way it depicts an operation through the eyes of our lead. You might recognize Forrest and Brasselle, since they would each star in Lupino's next film in Never Fear (1950), and Forrest also starred in Lupino's 1951 film Hard, Fast and Beautiful. I think that film is just a tad better than this film, likely because the framing device utilized here (i.e. telling most of the film as a flashback) works a bit better in other imitators of the pulpy noir. Of course, Lupino has her sights set on telling an interesting story involving the plight of a child born out of wedlock and the distinct differences seen when one is talking about it for the mother as opposed to the father. No matter how we view the personality of the flighty lead, one can still emphasize with the anguish felt on screen when it comes to facing a hard decision when it comes to a new child. The social consciousness that Lupino shows here is something that still relates well to our day and age because of the struggles that still come with double standards and human nature. Forrest handles this well through the tender direction by delivering a character with the right sense of passion that comes with someone thrusted into hard realities. Brasselle plays the tender side of life, someone who has been around the corner a couple of times and isn't weary about what they saw; this works fine for him, who is mostly played against Forrest for scenes like seeing model trains or a running climax. Penn plays the aloof part of the main triangle with the right sense of timing needed that comes and goes on his own terms (one has to admire the way the film depicts Forrest and Penn being swaying to each other with the simple act of throwing a cigarette away). Adams and Chambers show up for a time as the parental foils for a brief time. As a whole, the movie works fairly well in pressing a social issue without becoming just a sensationalist work or something that can be tied down to easy resolutions. As a debut feature, it is a worthy one to look into just where Lupino would go with filmmaking that dared to engage in social relevance with efficiency and durability that makes it one to recommend without question.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Eternal Breasts.

Home of the Brave (1949).

Review #1797: Home of the Brave.

Cast: 

Jeff Corey (Doctor), James Edwards (Private Peter Moss), Lloyd Bridges (Finch), Douglas Dick (Major Robinson), Frank Lovejoy (Sergeant Mingo), Steve Brodie (T.J. Everett), and Cliff Clark (Colonel Baker) Directed by Mark Robson.

Review:

1949 was an interesting year for showing Black Americans. A quartet of features came out with varying levels of interest from Hollywood in telling an interesting story involving African Americans that differed from previous years (i.e. roles percieved as demeaning): Intruder in the Dust (1949), Lost Boundaries (1949), Pinky (1949), and this film. The first film was a crime drama adaptation of a William Faulkner novel, while the second one was based on a nonfiction account of a doctor who had passed for white in the 1930s/1940s, and the third was a drama adaptation incolving a woman passing for white that finds purpose in the South while re-claiming her identity. It should be mentioned, of course, that the latter two featured white actors in the starring roles. Home of the Brave (1949) does not do that here, if only because it is a film with a small cast that utilizes James Edwards with enough screen time to essentially make him the star focus in a medical war drama, filmed on modest sets over the course of a month.  The film is adapted from the 1945 play of the same name, which had been written by Arthur Laurents. He had served in the United States Army under the Pictoral Service. While the play did not run well with audiences to merit a long run, critics liked it and its themes of friendship, loyalty, and dealing with antisemitism. Producer Stanley Kramer latched onto making a film about the play, although it was the decision of screenwriter Carl Foreman to change the main character from being a Jewish person to an African American in an attempt to avoid comparisons to recent films such as 1947's Gentlemen's Agreement and Crossfire (ironically, that movie only had a theme of racism/anti-Semitism because the novel's theme of homophobia was not allowed to be shown for a film). Mark Robson had started directing with Val Lewton's unit at RKO Radio Pictures in 1943 before he directed Foreman's script in Champion (1949).

Of course, one thing that seemed to slip by at the time was the fact that the U.S. Army was segregated until 1948. At any rate, I should not be surprised that Kramer and Foreman were behind this film, because they would do another film involving the plight of recovering from the scars of war with The Men (that film dealt with paralyzed veterans as opposed to psychoanalysis), particularly when stuff like The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) was an audience favorite. Atbany rate, this film ended up being a modest success by making over $2.5 million. This was the first starring role for James Edwards (who had appeared in The Set-Up earlier in the year); the Indiana native had studied psychology at Knoxville College before moving onto Northwestern University in drama, and he served in the Army as a first lieutenant. While it ended up being his most well-known role, Edwards would appear in over two dozen feature films while also writing a number of books before his untimely death in 1970 at the age of 51. Edwards proves to be the highlight of the film, wrapped with encompassing sensitivity and tension that doesn't buckle when with a crowd (read: group of five). Basically, he makes a solid lead to follow with for a war movie with semi-effective accuracy in trying to draw raw emotion onto the screen when it comes to treating folks the way one wants to be treated (particularly in war). Bridges is the warmest presence around the group (as one would expect from a sentimental favorite), but he still pulls attention without soft depth, at least when compared to the hard nosed guys like Lovejoy or the heavy in Brodie. Corey makes a decent figure in the "analysis" parts, which don't drag the film longer than it needs to go in flashback before its 88 minute runtime is up. One could see why this certainly seemed more fitting for the stage than film (setting aside one character reading poetry at times), but it manages to be just entertaining enough with its sense of interest in making a worthwhile hard-hitting story that doesnt fall prey to soapbox moments. Among a year filled with attempts at telling different stories involving African Americans, this is a solid winner that tackles prejudice with dutiful conviction and a solid lead in Edwards to make it work.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars. 

Next Time: No Way Out (1950)

Jour de fête.

Review #1770: Jour de fête [The Big Day]

Cast: 

Jacques Tati (François), Paul Frankeur (Marcel), Guy Decomble (Roger), Santa Relli (Germaine), Mane Vallee (Jeanette), Delcassan (La commere), Roger Rafal (Le coiffeur), and Jacques Beauvais (Le cafetier) Directed by Jacques Tati (#434 - Mon Oncle)

Review: 

Sure, the silent era came and went in the early years of the 20th century, but that did not mean that there weren't still films that tried to rely on lessened noise to make for humor, one with a visual sense and deliberate timing. Jacques Tati certainly managed to make his mark within that sense of humor in his six feature films as star and director, and this was his debut. Born in Le Pecq, France to picture-framing parents, he decided to take up performing as an artist by his mid-twenties in the 1930s, which he would do for a number of years (interrupted only by service in World War II) while dabbling in short films. He started directing with "L'École des facteurs" [The School for Postmen], a short film released in 1947 for which he would utilize several gags for this film, which he would begin shooting later that year. He shot the film in Sainte-Sévère-sur-Indre, France, where he had resided there during the Occupation in World War II. The film was meant to be released in Thomsoncolor (with Tati have shot with two cameras). The process was not exactly reliable enough to be released in theaters, but Tati did tinker with the film in later years that involved adding color (doing so in a 1964 re-release that cut and re-shot scenes resulting in a shorter run-time of six minutes), and a 1995 restoration was spearheaded by Tati's daughter. The film was written by Tati, Henri Marquet (who would work with him for his next two features) and René Wheeler (best known for scripts such as A Cage of Nightingales [1945]).

If one really needed a good convincing argument about Tati and his accomplishments in visual humor, Buster Keaton once stated that Tati had carried on from the point where Keaton and others "had left off some forty years ago." He would continue to evolve within his visual comedy in his future films, with the next four featuring him as his most famous character, Monsieur Hulot, who Tati used for numerous escapades involving society moving forward in technology. One can see this curiosity here, though, since we are talking about a movie about a rural village with a quirky postman that tries to "speed up" his service in the vein of Americans and their post office people. In that sense, what we have is a pretty good movie that shows a slice of rural life within France. One doesn't need much of a story or fully developed characters when it comes to simple gags that delights one's curiosity with good leisure and the construction of getting to said gag for interesting moments. Tati is the one to follow throughout, and he does a worthy job of going through every little motion (or sound) with good timing that never betrays the intentions of making curious visual humor within a curious demeanor (i.e. one that is easy to follow). It makes for a brilliant and timeless comedy that hits most of its marks within an 86 minute run-time that comes and goes where it pleases for good effect with a worthy presence at the helm on camera. In a way, the film is like watching a puppet show, where one is an observer that sees a show come and go in its own machinations, whether that means seeing pursuits of what will occur with a pole or the weird quirks that come with trying to “improve” something. By the time one finishes the film, it is likely one worth looking into again (or recommending to others) just to see what can result from taking a closer look at its gags again. It makes for quite a leisurely time that anyone can watch and look for enjoyment.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars. 

Undertow (1949).

Review #1703: Undertow.

Cast: 

Scott Brady (Tony Reagan), John Russell (Danny Morgan), Dorothy Hart (Sally Lee), Peggy Dow (Ann McKnight), Bruce Bennett (Reckling), Gregg Martell (Frost), Robert Anderson (Stoner), Dan Ferniel (Gene), and Rock Hudson (Detective) Directed by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, and #1418 - The Night Walker) 

Review: 

Honestly, if you didn't know that the director was William Castle, would you bat an eye for this film? From 1943 to 1974, he made 56 films as a director, but it is strange to think that the films that you would recognize from him came in the last third of his career, one that saw him move past low budget crime affairs to low budget B-movies with sensational showmanship. But hey, the important part is that Castle was not just a director with one trick. He honed his desire of wanting to scare the pants out of audiences as a teenager to work in Broadway in a variety of jobs to a shot at Columbia Pictures before he was even 25 years old, and his first feature was The Chance of a Lifetime (released in 1943 as part of the Boston Blackie series of crime dramas). He moved to Universal Pictures with Johnny Stool Pigeon (1949). There isn't exactly a great deal of facts to talk about this feature, one where I can't explain why it is called Undertow, since that apparently sounded like a better one to market over the working titles of Frame-Up and The Big Frame (I guess framing is like a current of water?). The film was written by Arthur T. Horman (a busy writer for two decades) and Lee Loeb.

Honestly, for the brief sentences one can struggle to think about a movie that falls along the line of Castle's extensive early work, it proves to be a decent filler kind of movie. For a film noir, it works alright in generating tension in the moments that try to give off a sense of claustrophobia, one that has a selection of clichés you would see from a noir (such as the femme fatale or a race against time) that for the most part manages to not flub itself in getting to the finish line at 71 minutes while packing in a few nice shots of Chicago. Brisk is not a bad word to describe a movie, if you think about it. Granted, there are things to quibble about a movie involving a guy on the run having to prove his innocence for the murder of a kingpin where you don't even see the kingpin. It really is the kind of movie that focuses on the dry side of plotting that is exactly what you would expect from a programmer kind of movie. If you don't have that many cast members to begin with, the mystery can only go in a few directions that are more passable than clever; besides, having a small run-time means you can't have too much time spent on motivation, which affects Dow's character more so than anyone. It manages to have no terrible or great moments present, which means that the highlights really come from little sequences, such as a chase sequence with some steps or perhaps its quick climax that relies on a little confusion. Brady fares pretty well in one of his early roles in film, partaking in a slew of tough-guy roles while eventually adding on television to his line of work, which also can apply to Russell (each had a star role in a Western show in the following decade), who plays it pretty lean and fair. This was the first feature film for Dow, who had dabbled in modeling and radio before having a brief feature career; she does okay with a quiet part, one that can't be too contrived in innocence without seeming completely out of touch with the attempts at thrills and chemistry with Brady that pales when thinking of the allure generated in parts by Hart. Having Bennett's character be the way he is in the script is a bit of a stretch (an old buddy detective), but he at least makes it seem passable to what is needed in dry company. As a whole, one will either find comfort in its accomplishments of making a decent thriller with no frills or find it just a bit off their tastes. But one cant deny that Castle was the kind of director capable enough to try and make something out of nothing, and I suppose that makes it more than enough for the curious. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Gigi (1949).

Review #1650: Gigi.

Cast: 

Yvonne de Bray (Mamita), Gaby Morlay (Tante Alicia), Jean Tissier (Honoré), Franck Villard (Gaston), Danièle Delorme (Gilberte 'Gigi'), Paul Demange (Emmanuel), Madeleine Rousset (Liane d'Exelmans), and Pierre Juvenet (Monsieur Lachaille) Directed by Jacqueline Audry.

Review: 

Jacqueline Audry honed success in a field and time that was nearly too narrow for it to happen the way it did. Born in France in 1908, Audry honed her interest in filmmaking over a childhood of extensive education through script supervisor before moving on to work work as an assistant director for a variety of directors in a time that ranged from G. W. Pabst to Max Ophüls; this came out of the fact that there were bare opportunities for female directors in the country when it was occupied by Germany in World War II. Audry would make her first own film with a short feature in 1943. Her first feature film would come after the end of the war with Les Malheurs de Sophie (1946), but it now is considered lost. In any case, Audry would persist in directing sixteen films through a career of two decades up to Bitter Fruit (1967, done ten years before her death), often collaborating with her novelist sister Colette Audry on her films. Gigi was Audry's second directorial effort, and the first of three of Colette adaptations. Audry was the first successful French female director to come out of World War II, although her works were not received universally at the time (the French New Wave did not favor her traditional methods to go along with taking novels to make for films); Olivia (1951) is generally her most-known feature, while others are likely in need of restoration (for example, one can check out Gigi on the Internet if they look hard enough for it, although the subtitles are in white). 

You might say this is a victim of remakes. As folks might already know, Gigi is adapted from the 1944 novella of the same name by actress-turned novelist Colette, and she modeled the title character off a socialite named Yola Letellier (the wife of Henri Letellier, who published Le Journal) that Colette had observed two decades prior (the Letelliers would stay married until the husband's death in 1960, although Yola would be a mistress during and after the marriage). It may have been the first adaptation of the novella, but there is no doubt that the musical remake (released nine years later) has overshadowed it in terms of discussion. It's interesting to think about that, since that film (which unlike this one had a cast mostly comprised of French actors) was a lavish affair in terms of being a musical with a wonderful look and fairly effective songs (at least from someone who has a middling patience with folks breaking out into song) in a nearly two-hour affair that nevertheless took liberties with the novella. With this feature, it runs at 82 minutes, and it perhaps seems fitting that one way to check out the feature is find it packed together with the remake on the DVD of the latter as an extra. Of course, we are also talking about different moral tones within the films - a grandparent overseeing a mistress-in-training instead became a grandparent wanting to see her just marry a rich man. In any case, the film is a reflection of its director that results in a quiet but dutiful little romance/comedy. Somehow, it seemed to linger in its pacing more so than the other film despite its clear run-time differences, although at least one doesn't lose sight of the country and some of the period sights. It makes its story of a growing woman weaving through the expectations set upon her of the time work out with careful timing and a few chuckles beneath the surface in the inevitable story of love triumphing over all. Delorme had her most famous role with this film in a sea of sixty appearances in film (including two other star roles in Colette adaptations, each directed by Audry), and she does fairly well for herself here, carefully charmed in reason for what is needed in the sticking points of a growing youth. The duo of de Bray and Morlay make their doting contributions to prim-and-proper standards that make for a few useful glances.  Alas, I wish I remembered the rest of the cast as well. Somehow, Tissler seems confined to the background in terms of slyness, whereas Villard proves just okay in his mild enthusiasm for what society has to offer a man of privilege - namely a stiff expression. I care about what happens in the film, but that aura of inevitability is a mild sensation rather than biting or on the sweet side as with the future adaptation (for better or worse). It isn't so much that the next adaptation was both refreshing and sanitized, it just so happens that the film is okay. It is a decent, stiff, and serviceable effort that will prove fine for those who desire perspectives yearning to not be lost to time.

Next Time: Never fear forgetting about Ida Lupino with her debut into directing with a personal effort in more ways than one with Never Fear (1949).

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

All the King's Men (1949).

Review #1373: All the King's Men.

Cast: 
Broderick Crawford (Willie Stark), John Ireland (Jack Burden), Joanne Dru (Anne Stanton), John Derek (Tom Stark), Mercedes McCambridge (Sadie Burke), Shepperd Strudwick (Adam Stanton), Ralph Dumke (Tiny Duffy), Anne Seymour (Mrs. Lucy Stark), Katharine Warren (Mrs. Burden), Raymond Greenleaf (Judge Monte Stanton), and Walter Burke (Sugar Boy) Directed, Written and Produced by Robert Rossen (#702 - The Hustler)

Review: 
One can hope to make at least one great film or at least hope to be part of a prestige picture worth talking about. This is a film to be proud of in terms of its directing and acting. Robert Rossen directed just ten films before his death at the age of 57, but he managed to make films in a variety of genres successfully, such as noir, drama and thriller. He had gone from hustling pool as a youth to being a stage manager, with the passage of time leading to him writing and directing his own plays. He went to Hollywood as a screenwriter after being discovered by Mervyn LeRoy of Warner Brothers in 1936. In the eleven years that followed before his directorial debut, he served as a writer for a few films along with being chair of the Hollywood Writers Mobilization during World War II. He jumped around a few studios before finding himself with Columbia Pictures. If you can believe it, Crawford was not the first choice for the main role. It was actually John Wayne who was offered the role first. He angrily rejected the role in a letter, calling the script an acidic one on the "American way of life" (among other statements that make me roll my eyes). The son (and grandson) of vaudevillians, Crawford found himself on stage and film by the time he was in his twenties, with usual roles being in B-moves or in supporting roles. It was this film that he became a star, and he would later find himself with further notability with Highway Patrol in the following decade. The film was based off the 1946 novel of the same name by Robert Penn Warren, which had won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction the following year. There has been considerable discussion about the novel over its themes and inspirations, with the most notable being over the resemblance of its main character to governor/senator Huey Long, since Warren had taught at Louisiana State University at the time of Long's unexpected death, although Warren once said that book was never intended to be a book about politics, since to his eyes it merely served as a provider to the framework story to work out the deeper concerns. The book has had two further adaptations, in terms of an opera (named after the lead character), and a 2006 adaptation from Steven Zaillian that attempted to be more faithful to the general structure of the novel while changing the setting to the early 1950s.

One is swept into the film fairly quickly, a drama that plays like a noir with a sense of urgency and furor that sweeps a viewer away in making compelling entertainment. Crawford proves to be a master of intimidation, one who leaves an imprint on you every time he appears, a presence that strikes at you with all of his might that has the right mix of brashness alongside insecurity. Ireland follows along just fine, an observer of the noir kind that we follow through his brooding eyes. Dru and Derek accompany him just as carefully. McCambridge (a noted radio actress in her debut) proves to be quite electrifying, a hardboiled presence that resonates with rough versatility. The others prove to be worthy supporting presences that seem like pawns in the hands of material that desires as such. It is an urgent film, wrapped in cynical honesty that still works in relevancy for the most part after seven decades. The biggest achievement is that the film came out the way it did at all. There were problems in whittling the film to salvageability because of how much footage Rossen shot. Editor Al Clark could only edit it down to 250 minutes (in part because of Rossen's reluctance to really cut anything), so it fell to the hands of Robert Parrish to help with edits. Together, Rossen and Parrish agreed to edit the film like a series of impressions, where they would roll the film on the synchronizer and find the center of each scene and cut arbitrarily 100 feet before and after each center, regardless of dialogue or music. The result is a 110 minute quickfire winner. The film was certainly a deserving hit, and it later won for Best Picture at the Academy Awards the following year, beating out such films like A Letter to Three Wives (which won director-writer Joseph L. Mankiewicz awards over Rossen for directing and writing) for the main prize alongside Crawford and McCambridge. On the whole, this is a film that has plenty of blunt force in terms of what it wants to say about the nature of power and how one can find themselves ensnared in the same traps they held others to if they reach that point, headlined by Crawford and his domineering presence that makes this a fair one to recommend.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

And now, the list for next month. Several faces join the crowd for the 1950s, a mix of directors and stars that have either been covered before or haven't before, complete with a rollout of world cinema debuts.

White Heat.

Review #907: White Heat.

Cast:
James Cagney (Arthur "Cody" Jarrett), Virginia Mayo (Verna Jarrett), Edmond O'Brien (Hank Fallon / Vic Pardo), Margaret Wycherly ("Ma" Jarrett), Steve Cochran ("Big Ed" Somers), Ford Rainey (Zuckie Hommel), John Archer (Philip Evans), Wally Cassell ("Cotton" Valletti), Fred Clark (Daniel "The Trader" Winston), Ian MacDonald ("Bo" Creel), and Paul Guilfoyle (Roy Parker) Directed by Raoul Walsh (#399 - The Thief of Bagdad (1924))

Review:
This review has been in the making for a long time, if you can believe that. Ever since I bought the film from my local Blockbuster over two years ago, this movie has been on the backburner of things I wanted to cover, but its time hadn't quite aligned with me, until now. When it comes to film noirs and gangster movies, White Heat certainly does not disappoint, being one of the seminal movies of its time. Cagney is a good chunk of why the movie works so well, portraying the instability of this villain without any sort of fakery nor too much overblown nature to him. The scene with him on his screen mother Wycherly's lap is also a good scene in showing the strange nature and dynamic of the two that plays off well with a movie that doesn't play to easiest gangster types. The scene where he reacts to a death personal to him is also quite exceptional in how he conveys the agony of that moment without stock elements in any way. Mayo does a fine job as the femme fatale, having good chemistry with Cagney along with being respectable with her charms. O'Brien is quite exceptional in his role by managing to size up well with Cagney without being overwrought with too much hero hokeyness. The rest of the cast does a good job in their roles, serving their purposes with the right kind of competency. The cinematography is good, having the right balances of color (for a black-and-white film) and picture. This is a movie with the right kind of tension and action, where even though you know how movies of the time might roll you still manage to really invest in how the movie plays itself out, owing to its great cast, all starting with James Cagney. I highly recommend this movie.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Threat.

Review #723: The Threat.

Cast
Michael O'Shea (Detective Ray Williams), Virginia Grey (Carol), Charles McGraw (Arnold "Red" Kluger), Julie Bishop (Ann Williams), Frank Conroy (District Attorney Barker MacDonald), Robert Shayne (Inspector Murphy), Anthony Caruso (Nick Damon), Don McGuire (Joe Turner), and Frank Richards (Lefty) Directed by Felix E. Feist.

Review
It's a cheap little quickie of a b-movie that runs 66 minutes, made in the heyday of film noirs, with this being released at the turn of the decade. Yeah, that's a boring way to describe the movie, but at least the movie isn't as boring, so there's that. The movie is at least quick with its approach, and it also manages to make McGraw a main focus, and he does an excellent job as the villain, mainly because of his voice, which rings well with his chemistry with Grey and O'Shea. It's a rough and tough kind of movie, with the kind of hostage formula style you'd see from old movies, but it at least is entertaining enough if you're in the mood for it. If you'd like a movie from the 40's that will be short, to the point, and decent enough, this is for you. Is it great? No, but it is at least something to not be embarrassed by. You won't remember much from it after a while, but it is passable enough.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Third Man.

Review #703: The Third Man.

Cast
Joseph Cotten (Holly Martins), Alida Valli (Anna Schmidt), Orson Welles (Harry Lime), Trevor Howard (Major Calloway), Bernard Lee (Sergeant Paine), Wilfrid Hyde-White (Crabbin), Erich Ponto (Dr. Winkel), and Ernst Deutsch (Baron Kurtz) Directed by Carol Reed.

Review
It's hard to put into words why this is a fine movie, but one of the main reasons is the fact the movie manages to be consistent in terms of its production. It never seems to stray from its suspenseful roots while also managing to have a good atmosphere around it as well. And yes, the zither music is the cornerstone of the unique strangeness that is this movie. Cotten and Valli are alright, and the ending with the two is what it is: an ending. Welles is only in the movie for the second half, but he sure makes up for it by just having a commanding presence while on screen, which all starts with how we first see him, which is his face, illuminated by a window light, as the movie segues into a chase that is pretty fun to watch. The scene at the end in the sewers is riveting to watch, especially when Lime gets his fingers out of the gate. That shot is just really excellent. The zither music is...certainly different from what film noirs had, and I don't think I've ever watched a movie with zither, so in a way the music is fine with me. The film is shot nicely, and the dutch angles work well with the tone the movie is going for, helping to make a good mystery.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Mighty Joe Young (1949).

Review #604: Mighty Joe Young.

Cast
Terry Moore (Jill Young), Ben Johnson (Gregg), Robert Armstrong (Max O'Hara), Frank McHugh (Windy), Douglas Fowley (Jones), and Denis Green (Crawford) Directed by Ernest B. Schoedsack (#283 - King Kong)

Review
King Kong was a massive success (so good they rushed out a sequel named Son of Kong only 9 months later), and a few re-releases inspired RKO to make another movie about an gorilla, with Willis O'Brien supervising the stop motion effects, with Ray Harryhausen assisting him. The gorilla isn't as big or tall as Kong, but he is more sympathetic (I suppose) and he even gets a happy ending. King Kong had an aura of mystery for the first half mainly because of Skull Island and what it would be. Mighty Joe Young just flat out brings you to Africa without much tension, but I guess at this point trying the same thing twice wouldn't work. The actors in this film are alright, and for once there isn't a shrieking character, and Armstrong (who was Carl Denham in King Kong) is certainly persuasive in the role, he's a very lovable figure, and the most noticeable actor in this film. The effects are great, even if Joe isn't as intimidating as it may seem. The climax of the movie is well enough, it's not everyday you see a gorilla on a moving van. This is an alright movie that runs short but means well. The effects are probably better than the actors, but it at least is good looking, and in the end, I guess that's all that counts to having a good time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: It Happens Every Spring.

Review #562: It Happens Every Spring.

Cast
Ray Milland (Vernon K. Simpson/King Kelly), Jean Peters (Deborah Greenleaf), Paul Douglas (Monk Lanigan), Ed Begley (Edgar Stone), Ted de Corsia (Jimmy Dolan), Ray Collins (Prof. Greenleaf), Jessie Royce Landis (Mrs. Greenleaf), and Alan Hale Jr. (Schmidt) Directed by Lloyd Bacon

Review
It Happens Every Spring was made without the support of Major League Baseball, which is evident immediately, given that all the stadiums are referred to by city (such as Pittsburgh Stadium or Brooklyn Stadium), a practice not really done at the time (Instead, they were referred to by other names, such as Ebbets Field, Forbes Field, Shibe Park, and Sportsman Park (Used by both St. Louis teams for years), though Cleveland Stadium was an exception to the rule that I just mentioned), and all the teams in the movie are referred to by city name in both jerseys and in dialogue. I'd like to think that the team the main character plays for is the St. Louis Browns rather then the Cardinals because the though of having to see the Cardinals win the World Series again even in a movie makes me shudder. So yeah, how is the film itself? If you ignore the fact that the main character essentially cheats to help his team win the pennant and no one bothers to complain, the movie is easy to like. The actors are fine, and Paul Douglas is enjoyable to watch (Douglas also does a good performance in a baseball movie, (#433) Angels in the Outfield), and I guess the movie is alright, even though it's not exactly a great baseball movie. It's certainly a decent movie, and I can see the effort that was done for this movie. Would I recommend it? I'd recommend it along with other baseball movies, such as The Natural, Angels in the Outfield, and Field of Dreams. But oh well.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: On the Town.

Review #346: On the Town.

Cast

Gene Kelly (Gabey), Frank Sinatra (Chip), Ann Miller (Claire Huddesen), Jules Munshin (Ozzie), Betty Garrett (Brunhilde Esterhazy), and Vera-Ellen (Ivy Smith) Directed by Stanley Donen (#137 - Bedazzled and #227 - Singin' in the Rain) and Gene Kelly (#227 - Singin' in the Rain)

Review

It's been a while since I reviewed a musical or even a film, and this just happens to be both. But look, Frank Sinatra happens to be in this (I wonder if anyone will be thinking to themselves "Who?"), so there's a small first. Gene Kelly pops up once again, always seeming to be impressive in either directing or starring. The film around Kelly does a respectable job, with singing and dancing right off the bat, mostly being useful. Kelly again does manage to carry a good portion of the film, which is useful, along with Sinatra and Garrett. The story may no be much, and it may seem strangely short (at about 100 minutes), but it works for the most part. It has a strange charm, keeping you watching for some odd reason. Countdown to 350 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4...

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.