The Great McGinty.

Review #2381: The Great McGinty.

Cast: 

Brian Donlevy (Daniel McGinty), Muriel Angelus (Catherine McGinty), Akim Tamiroff (The Boss), Allyn Joslyn (George), William Demarest (Skeeters), Louis Jean Heydt (Thompson; "Tommy"), Harry Rosenthal (Louie), Arthur Hoyt (Mayor Wilfred T. Tillinghast), and Libby Taylor (Bessy) Written and Directed by Preston Sturges (#188 - Sullivan's Travels, #431 - The Palm Beach Story).

Review: 

"It's taken me eight years to reach what I wanted. But now, if I don't run out of ideas – and I won't – we'll have some fun. There are some wonderful pictures to be made, and God willing, I will make some of them."

Call it spring cleaning, call it overdue, it does seem right to return to the beginning of a worthwhile career with Preston Sturges as a director. Born in Chicago to parents that divorced when he was young, he actually served as a lieutenant in the United States Army Air Service in the late 1910s but did not see action in World War I. He had become a published writer when his essay about humor was printed when in camp, but he became an actual playwright later, after, well, a litany of stuff done that ranged from developing a kiss-proof lipstick to stage manager. The Guinea Pig, premiering in January 1929, came on a suggestion. Sturges apparently was spurred to come up with a play because a woman he was dating apparently was trying to write her own play. She wasn't actually writing a play, but Sturges and his efforts paid off with a small run on Broadway. He did a few plays but soon went to doing scripts-for-hire. Among the first scripts Sturges contributed as a writer-for-hire in Hollywood was the dialogue for The Big Pond in 1930. Probably his most noted script of the time came with The Power and the Glory (1933), a movie that happened to involve a recollection of the life of a now-dead tycoon by the people that knew him. So, how did Sturges become a director? Well, he had a script that seemed interesting to Paramount Pictures, and he sold it to them for apparently $10 with the stipulation that he direct it. The script originally was written in 1933 with Spencer Tracy in mind, but it had been unsuccessfully shopped around (even the Saturday Evening Post rejected it); apparently, Sturges was inspired by the tenure of William Sulzer as Governor in New York, where he was elected in 1912 as a Tammany Hall machine guy before he decided to pursue reform and was soon impeached and removed in nine months. The movie was shot in roughly a month, and the result was that Sturges won the first ever Academy Award for Best Writing (Original Screenplay) for his work here. Sturges would have a busy next couple of years, with this film being followed months later with Christmas in July. While his career would peak in 1944 because of quibbles with producers, Sturges ultimately directed twelve movies prior to his death in 1959 at the age of 60, such as The Lady Eve (1941), The Palm Beach Story (1942), and Hail the Conquering Hero (1944). Donlevy and Tamiroff would reprise their roles for The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1942). 

Sure, of course this is the kind of movie that starts with a text screen: "This is the story of two men who met in a banana republic. One of them was honest all his life except one crazy minute. The other was dishonest all his life except one crazy minute. They both had to get out of the country." What you get is a recollection of grafting and the mockery that comes in seeing waste and corruption on display for the public that reminds you that the past wasn't merely just "the good ol' days" for everyone. Granted, we don't go around giving money to the bread-liner who votes, but who is going to say that people are more aware of their local politicians playing the grift game? But then again, how many honest people do you see in public anyway? In that regard, Donlevy makes for a quality lead performance, one that can be smooth in his ways of words that can bully/sweet talk plenty of people in the film because of how he makes it sound. In other words, when you get the chance at a hustle, you might as well jump at it in full force. Of course, it just so happens he does fall for Angelus because, well, there is a certain type of interest that she generates in her casual nature of normalcy even when playing a part in the initial scam of a happy family. Tamiroff* happens to make for quite the booming figure of the man behind the strings, a baron of his surroundings with plenty of timing to match in what you might call good ol' boy bluster. The 83 minutes passes through with ease and a worthy sense of biting wit for the ridiculousness that comes through in politics and people in general with what they believe is worthy for the people to see from the public and the real price of truth and power. The movie chuckles along with itself in the manner of someone who knows a cynical ditty and is all the more ready to make a yarn about it, and this is a worthwhile debut for Sturges and company, managing to be a funny film of grifts and grafts gone by the wayside of influence that is a neat gem for those to encounter all these years later.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars. 

*Orson Welles once called him "the greatest of all screen actors."

The General Died at Dawn.

Review #2055: The General Died at Dawn.

Cast: 

Gary Cooper (O'Hara), Madeleine Carroll (Judy Perrie), Akim Tamiroff (General Yang), Dudley Digges (Mr. Wu), Porter Hall (Peter Perrie/Peter Martin), William Frawley (Brighton), J.M. Kerrigan (Leach), Philip Ahn (Oxford), Lee Tung Foo (Mr. Chen), and Leonid Kinskey (Stewart) Directed by Lewis Milestone (#901 - The Racket, #1336 - The Front Page, #1709 - Ocean's 11)

Review: 

Okay, it might sound a bit odd to pick this film out in the middle of a career, but Lewis Milestone is a pretty good one to spotlight again. If you can do films such as Two Arabian Knights (1927) and All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), one wouldn't be surprised to see him here with a melodrama action film. Of course, anyone was a student of Columbia University's School of Military Cinematography within the Signal Corps would have a good knowledge of photography. He started in comedy but took on various genres, one of which included adventure-melodrama. He needed it after his last two films (both musicals) in Paris in Spring (1935) and Anything Goes (1936) flopped. While he later considered The General Died at Dawn a film "of little consequence", it ended up being a pretty noted feature in his lengthy career. The film was written by Charles G. Booth and Clifford Odets. Odets was a noted playwright for his social dramas who did a handful of scripts (some without credit) while Booth was just starting out as a screenwriter (one of his future stories with The House on 92nd Street (1942) would win him an Academy Award).

So, we have a tale of a man who likes to root for the underdog and therefore has decided to help people from their oppression. In that sense, it reminds one of the real-life figure Two-Gun Cohen, a British/Canadian adventure with Jewish roots that basically became a soldier of fortune for Chinese-related efforts (such as the National Revolutionary Army). Some of this plays out pretty well in cynicism in the portrayal laid out by Cooper more so than anybody else for a film made in a time where Armenian actors are put out in latex to play Asian characters. If you enjoyed the exploits of train adventure involving warlords with Shanghai Express (1932), you will find plenty to partake here, although obviously they don't have the same dynamics. Cooper and Carroll make an adequate pair together, mostly since the latter isn't given as much to do despite being quite engaging, but their last scenes together around the climax do the job. Tamiroff, Hall, and Kerrigan are the general adversaries, although obviously attention is focused on the first one (since he was the one actor to receive an Academy Award nomination here). Tamiroff accomplishes the main goal with worthy timing and edge, while Hall makes a quality fool and Kerrigan makes a most useful sinister toady. This is basically a "wham-bam and figure the plot eventually ma'am" kind of movie, where you kind of just have to go with whatever the film is laying out and hope things play out to satisfaction. Like other adventures for others to identify, it is the kind of movie where one might as well be asking, "why not just shoot him?". Aside from its final conclusion, the movie does work out to expectations. And what I mean by that is the part where the lead character has to convince the villain to save their lives...so that they can tell others about the General's exploits due to their impending death. And, well, since you already read this, the General then orders his men to kill each other for the honor. No, really. If you can take the film seriously enough for most of its 98-minute runtime, even an ending that may verge on "convenient" may work fine enough to not ruin the general experience. I will go with what the movie is running with its attempts in the general sense of romances and adventure at dawn and call it a pleasant one to recommend. With a director like Milestone, it is a quality mission for one to accept.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Ocean's 11 (1960).

Review #1709: Ocean's 11.

Cast: 

Frank Sinatra (Danny Ocean), Dean Martin (Sam Harmon), Sammy Davis Jr (Josh Howard), Peter Lawford (Jimmy Foster), Angie Dickinson (Beatrice Ocean), Richard Conte (Anthony Bergdorf), Cesar Romero (Duke Santos), Patrice Wymore (Adele Ekstrom), Joey Bishop ('Mushy' O'Connors), Akim Tamiroff (Spyros Acebos), Henry Silva (Roger Corneal), Ilka Chase (Mrs. Restes), Buddy Lester (Vince Massler), Richard Benedict ('Curly' Steffans), Jean Willes (Mrs. Bergdorf), Norman Fell (Peter Rheimer), and Clem Harvey (Louis Jackson) Directed and Produced by Lewis Milestone (#901 - The Racket and #1336 - The Front Page)

Review: 

See, the thing about heist movies is you have to make sure one really manages to collect either an interesting premise or a useful cast to generate excitement and the potential for a worthy payoff. This is a nice way of trying to dance around a movie that is probably the most star-studded mediocrity of its era. One cannot be too harsh to this film, if only because it was the penultimate work of Milestone as a film director, and his output had decreased in the 1950s (he directed seven features while shifting to television). This was the first film to feature a majority of what is dubbed the "Rat Pack", which was used to refer to a group of entertainers that made a bunch of films together along with appearing with each other in casino venues in Las Vegas (to be pedantic, it actually is the second "Rat Pack", since the first involved Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall) - in this case, the group (who once referred to themselves as "The Summit", no kidding) referred to Sinatra, Davis, Martin, Lawford, and Bishop, although there were also "mascots", which involved folks such as Angie Dickinson and Shirley MacLaine. Again, it's a silly name to refer to folks that already worked with each other quite a few times before this film (such as It Happened in Brooklyn, which had Sinatra and Lawford). Over the next 24 years, there would be a handful of movies featuring at least two members of the group, which resulted in features such as Sergeants 3 (1962) along with Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964); perhaps fittingly, the last time they appeared with each other was Cannonball Run II, a vehicle movie designed to feature as many name stars as possible. The idea for the film was told to Lawford in 1955, and he later bought the outline for $10,000 (of course, a different account involves him hearing from a director that had heard it from a gas station attendant before buying the rights in 1958) - tasked to write the story was George Clayton Johnson and Jack Golden Russell.

The only heist that this movie manages to pull is tricking you into believing it really needs to be 127 minutes. You could probably grab the script and tear a bunch of scenes out and probably come out of it with no real loss. This is a movie made to stoke the egos of folks who never seem to take this film seriously at any bit of time, and Milestone seems thoroughly outmatched to do anything other than make a plodding affair with a little bit of glitz and vignettes that creak and moans before eventually moving on to an actual heist that can't even land the payoff. Perhaps the best way to describe Sinatra's performance is to use the account stated in a book about him, in which he "would show up at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, do 20 minutes of work and then start drinking." Look, if you had to do a bunch of shows in the night and then do a bunch of filming in the morning for a film, who really wins out in the end? The "bare minimum" is a hard phrase to say about an actor who already has an Academy Award to his mantle, but there really isn't anything interesting to note about his performance beyond just saying that the charisma is lacking beyond corny phrases. The planning parts are okay, but it begs for something more than ad-libbing. Of course, the well might be a bit soiled by seeing a handful of movies with folks who seemed to be having a good time that had varied results. At least you get to hear Martin and Davis sing? Sure, Martin seems a bit too comfy at playing second banana, but at least "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" is somewhat fun to listen to. Davis suffers the most among the main group despite having the most interesting part to play in the heist, mostly because his time on screen doesn't register as much as it should (besides, the racial crack at the end is too lame to even mention). You might as well take Dickinson out of the story, because her presence is lacking to the point of comatose, packing zilch with Sinatra in attempts at playful combative chemistry that prove nothing to the actual film. Lawford might as well be replaced by a broom stick, if you think about it. The rest are here and there, essentially serving as dominos on a table with hastily-made legs that have no time for quirks. Honestly, the only interesting folks in the film are in small roles - Romero and Tamiroff (one used for leverage and the other used for comic relief). Taking nearly an hour to get to planning the heist and then getting near the 90 minute mark before actually executing it is a bit too much to ask for, no matter how much fun the folks seem to be having ad-libbing their way through. To me, you have two options with the heist: either it goes well, and they get away it...or it goes wrong. Honestly, by the time the last trick gets pulled, one just shakes their head at its mind-numbing futility. Well, I guess if one really needs a time capsule of easygoing folks in Vegas in the time before it became....well, Vegas, this might be the one to watch. If one is curious to see a bit of glitz to go with intimacy in a time long past and don't want to just look at a bunch of old photos of the city, this might be for you.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Vulture.

Review #1236: The Vulture.

Cast: 
Robert Hutton (Dr. Eric Lutens), Akim Tamiroff (Prof. Hans Koniglich/the Vulture), Broderick Crawford (Brian F. Stroud), Diane Clare (Trudy Lutens), Philip Friend (The Vicar), Patrick Holt (Jarvis), Annette Carell (Ellen West), Edward Carrick (Melcher, the Sexton), and Gordon Sterne (Edward Stroud) Directed by Lawrence Huntington.

Review: 
One may wonder what is to be expected a film with a title like this. After all, this is a fairly obscure film that can't be found on DVD (the version I watched occasionally shows a TNT logo on the bottom, back when the network showed MonsterVision, a series dedicated to a marathon of older movies), only on VHS. Actually, this is a film I heard about a few years ago due to a video that I watched from a film reviewer (James Rolfe of Cinemassacre fame) that went into a little detail about the film. One would expect at least some semblance of horror, what with a poster tagline that starts with "Talons of terror!" and tells you about a half-man, half beastbird that swoops on prey, drinks blood, and mutilates flesh. This was the creation of Huntington, who served as both director and writer; he sold the story (first known as Manutara) to executive producer Jack O. Lamont, who garnered some funds on the condition of having American names as the leads. Other contributors of the budget (50,000 pounds) were from small British and Canadian studios. This happened to be the last film he directed, passing away the following year at the age of 68 following a career of 37 years, spent primarily in Britain. Oddly enough, this was a movie shown in black-and-white on original release in theaters, yet it was shown in color for television.

Believe it or not, all of these facts are probably more intriguing than the actual film itself. Would you believe that this is a film that shows its title beast for only 30 seconds throughout a 91 minute movie? Would you believe that this is a movie that has bland characters? Would you believe that this was made on the cheap and represents a mockery of what films can be with limited range of funds but ambition at the wheel? The answer to these questions are all a resounding yes, particularly with the last question. It is actually astounding how one could make a film with such dullness - this barely even qualifies as horror, feeling more akin to a murder mystery than anything dealing with real suspense. If this was done in any other decade, I do wonder how it might have panned out - or at least made with a bigger budget, where one could try to deal with the idea of depicting someone transformed into a vulture/human mix. The only times you see the vulture are very brief shots, showing its talons when it takes someone away, or at the end when the human head on the vulture is seen briefly; I imagine the film made sure to depict the scenes in the dark in order to hide the cheapness of these effects, since I can't imagine the hysterics if one tried to show this thing in a full shot just swooping around with an old man's head. Trying to think the logistics of this film's plot become a chore, as it throws stuff around about some old coins (buried alongside an accused warlock and his dastardly pet vulture because...I shrug to figure out why), a guy believing himself to be a descendant of said dead man and doing an experiment to disintegrate himself into the grave and then reassemble said self back with nuclear energy, and some sort of curse involving the descendants of the guy who buried warlock and vulture alive.

With such a mess of ridiculousness, how does the film deal with delivering some sense of fright? It does so with paleness, as if everyone was affected by a mysterious bug that wouldn't let them give any sort of life of amusement to what is occurring; the exception is a grouchy (but quirky) Crawford, who gets to be the first victim all because he wants open windows just to get sleep and gets snatched from said vulture (the astonishing thing is how strong said vulture must be, even if it has to turn him around first before it lifts him into the air). Hutton isn't really much better, figuring out a bare mystery with no real semblance of interest generated for the audience. Tamiroff is okay, but it is so amusing to see him turn out to be the villain, what with the lack of any real hints to go around - exactly how does he hide those bird feet and feathers in the daylight? Also, the idea of him swooping around eating animal flesh is weird to picture, although maybe that's just the vulture side wanting something to pick at, besides some old folks. I'm still astounded he actually decided to go through with such a bizarre experiment and never thinking to just simply dig up the grave and maybe check the body instead. If you can believe it, the count of victims of this ridiculous bird are a resounding two, and one of the takings isn't even shown to the audience. The bird gets offed by the silliest of climaxes: a character needing to be reminded that they have a gun with them by their spouse, falling off a cliff. To add on to these ridiculous terms, the couple actually buries the thing at sea, as if not showing this ridiculous freak of nature would be better served (or at least just to show to the authorities who think the murders is all about a bunch of coins and not big bird) - on the whole, this is just a mess. You could actually make a comedy out of such offbeat things, and yet this is meant to be taken with such seriousness that it actually just comes off like stale bitter coffee in an age where one would expect something with a bit more of a jolt. Even films that don't show off their title monster have some sort of atmosphere or pace that invite a viewer in to share a level of tension or calm fear. This doesn't even get off the platform, moving an inch at the starting gate and then proceeding to fall asleep for the rest of the race. You always seem to be waiting for something to actually happen, and the fact that you know it will only strike at night and strike certain people (from the oldest to the youngest of the Strouds), so what you are left with is filler. A film of such tediousness isn't quite deserving of the label of one of the worst, but it sure ranks up there in terms of ways to kill time the worst way possible, that is for certain.

Overall, I give it 1 out of 10 stars.

The Black Sleep.

Review #1179: The Black Sleep.

Cast: 
Basil Rathbone (Sir Joel Cadman), Akim Tamiroff (Udu the Gypsy), Herbert Rudley (Dr. Gordon Ramsay), Patricia Blake (Laurie Munroe), Phyllis Stanley (Daphnae), Lon Chaney Jr. (Dr. Munroe aka Mungo), John Carradine ("Bohemund"), Bela Lugosi (Casimir), and Tor Johnson (Mr. Curry) Directed by Reginald Le Borg.

Review: 
With horror films, there surely is an expectation for terror and suspense with some sort of capable cast of characters to make something worth watching as entertainment. With this film, that statement isn't too particularly true, since the only thing that drives the film is its cast. It has an occasional shocking moment or two, but there isn't enough energy present in its story to make something other than just a fairly forgettable piece in a decade filled with films with frights and schlock that stand out much clearer. When the most interesting thing to view is one shot of an exposed brain seeping cerebral fluid (second place going to Rathbone's hand double used for the surgery being an actual neurosurgeon), perhaps your movie needs a bit more noteworthy things to go around. Undeniably, the one thing that does shine above all else for this feature is Rathbone, who manages to give his role a fair bit of dignity that goes past being just the madman scientist who values results over things such as not operating on living patients and their brains, balancing a bit of tragedy with scientific ambition. Alas, not even he can save this film from falling into the world of blandness. Perhaps the story from Gerald Drayson Adams and screenplay by John C. Higgins (both of whom were mostly writers for adventure or mystery films) is to blame a bit. The dilemma involving the use of live brains would probably work better for a film with a bit more action to it, or at the very least would work better in a film that had a more compelling second lead than Rudley. He isn't too particularly interesting, and his chemistry with Blake is cursory at best, so there isn't too much driving drama (or much suspenseful horror, for that matter) besides occasional moments with Rathbone until the climax. It doesn't help that Chaney is tasked to simply growl, either. Lugosi appears in the film, although he has no spoken lines. Sadly, this was the last film of his to be released during his lifetime, as Lugosi died on August 16, 1956, just two months after the film's premiere. Tamiroff, playing a role originally intended for Peter Lorre (prior to disputes over salary rates) is alright, but he falls into the background for a good chunk of it. When the film finally decides to arrange an ending, what better way than to have Carradine chew a bit of scenery as a character who believes he is a legendary crusader from the 11th/12th century? It may be a bit ridiculous to see him (along with Johnson and another actor playing people affected by the brain surgery) run amuck on the people doing the experiments, but at least it is something to give the film a bit of a jolt, even if it is a bit on the over-the-top side, what with Carradine chanting "Kill!" and all. On the whole, it isn't a terrible experience, and the 82 minute run-time isn't too interminable to go through, but it really is only worth it for people willing to look past the lack of suspense and look more at the atmospheric moments and a fairly game performance from Rathbone. I don't think that the film does enough to prove a winner, but it is at the least a curious little horror film that serves its purpose better than some other horror films of its time (such as The Beast of Hollow Mountain (1956) for example), so take it for what it's worth.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.