The Farmer Takes a Wife.

Review #2012: The Farmer Takes a Wife.

Cast: 

Janet Gaynor (Molly Larkins), Henry Fonda (Dan Harrow), Charles Bickford (Jotham Klore), Slim Summerville (Fortune Friendly), Andy Devine (Elmer Otway), Roger Imhof (Samson 'Sam' Weaver), Jane Withers (Della), Margaret Hamilton (Lucy Gurget), Sig Ruman (Blacksmith), and John Qualen (Sol Tinker) Directed by Victor Fleming (#159 - The Wizard of Oz and #569 - Gone with the Wind)

Review: 

For all of the films I have seen, I wonder if I have perhaps not given a proper spotlight to certain names in the classic era of Hollywood, or at the very least the 1930s. Victor Fleming wasn't just the director of 1939's The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind, you know. Fleming had got his start as a cameraman in the 1910s, but it is probably most interesting that he also once served an assignment to teach at Columbia University, specifically teaching Military Cinematography, due to the U.S. Army needing it for the efforts in World War I. Some of the members in that program that Fleming helped teach involved future names such as Josef von Sternberg, Ernest B. Schoedsack, and Lewis Milestone. Fleming made his feature directing debut with When the Clouds Roll By (1919). Overall, he made a variety of adventure and comedy films, with his association with MGM in the 1930s being particularly memorable, such as with Captains Courageous (1937); Fleming died at the age of 59 in 1949, having directed over three dozen films. The film is based on the 1934 play of the same name, which had been done by Marc Connelly and Frank B. Elser, which in of itself was based on the 1929 novel Rome Haul that had been written by Walter D. Edmonds; Henry Fonda and June Walker served as the leads for the production, which ran for a time on Broadway. Connelly and Elser wrote the screenplay alongside Edwin J. Burke. In case one didn't know, the Erie Canal was a really big deal when it came to navigating waterways, which started upon its completion in 1825. Of course, in real life, the railroad only overcome the competition with the canal in the early 20th century. The film was remade as a musical comedy in 1953 by 20th Century Fox with Betty Grable and Dale Robertson as the leads.

Admittedly, it is more of a curiosity than a real treat, but it is serviceable at 91 minutes for those who like mildly charming romances, one that is filled with plenty of recognizable faces for those who are familiar with vintage films (whether for character actors or in general). It doesn't pull anything particularly memorable when it comes to showing the future that is yet to come with farming, but it moseys about with general decency to make things matter enough. Gaynor was in the midst of transition, one who was still a name presence in the mid-1930s but was seeing the times change when it came to audience preferences (two months before the release of the film, Fox Film Corporation, which she had been with since the mid-1920s, became 20th Century Fox due to a merger), which can loosely be defined as "wholesome". Fonda had been active in the stage since 1925 that had started in his native Nebraska, which eventually took him to Broadway. He was picked for the role after Fox tried to pursue Gary Cooper and Joel McCrea and failed. It is evident, even in his debut film, where he would become a future star, in part because of his sincerity, which manages to come through in a way that somehow outmatches Gaynor and her attempts at playful vulnerability. Their coupling is a gradual one, with his balanced sense of sentimentality for the soil going with her stubborn spirit for the canal that is basically a reckoning for each to make up their minds of who they are. Inevitable as it may seem, at least the resolution is one you could buy between the two. Bickford was mauled by a lion and nearly killed while filming another movie that came out in 1935, which led to him being more of a character presence the rest of his career. Evidently, Spencer Tracy (a regular presence at Fox since 1930 that was noted more by the critics than the audiences for his films) was originally cast in the role Bickford inherited, since Tracy was taken out, reinstated, and then released from the role when he got out of his contract for Fox (he would sign with MGM in the spring of 1935 and the rest is history). At any rate, Bickford makes a solid heavy, belligerent and willing to play along with what is needed. The others make for solid relief in parts, whether that involves the dependable Devine or Hamilton (who had appeared in the play with Fonda). They make the canal life at the very least one not of bland caricature, since the film is at least lightly funny without panhandling your attention. As a whole, the film moves through the motions of friendly 19th century romance with the pacing of soil being planted gently onto the ground, one handled with general efficiency from director and crew to make a tolerable experience, with the talent of Fonda and the future that would come from him being apparent at that moment in time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Myra Breckinridge.

Review #1762: Myra Breckinridge.

Cast:

Raquel Welch (Myra Breckinridge), Rex Reed (Myron Breckinridge), John Huston (Buck Loner), Mae West (Leticia Van Allen), Farrah Fawcett (Mary Ann Pringle), Roger C. Carmel (Dr. Randolph Spencer Montag), Roger Herren (Rusty Godowski), George Furth (Charlie Flager, Jr), Calvin Lockhart (Irving Amadeus), Jim Backus (Doctor), John Carradine (Surgeon), and Andy Devine (Coyote Bill) Directed by Michael Sarne.

Review: 

“When you’re young, you do things sometimes that are impossible because they are impossible. There is a delight in attempting the extraordinary, the immensely difficult merely because it is so. Myra Breckinridge for me became more and more this kind of challenge, the chance to say what I believed was ultimately anarchic and satirical.” - Michael Sarne

“There was this strange bouquet of personalities that were attached to this film, and each one of them was bigger than life in their own sphere. And you thought, Maybe this is the best idea that ever happened, and maybe it’s the worst.” - Raquel Welch

In 1968, Gore Vidal wrote and published a novel in Myra Breckinridge. I have not read the book, but it has been called one of his most famous works, one that challenged the sexual norms of American life in culture and society while also dabbling in writing for film and television from time to time, which included un-credited work on Ben-Hur (1959); incidentally, Vidal was loosely inspired by the exploits of John “Bunny” Breckinridge, a wealthy drag queen that you would recognize from his performance in Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959). Two years later, an adaptation of the novel was done by 20th Century Fox to the derision of Vidal and numerous critics, for which a half century has not quite seen a rehabilitation of what has been considered a turkey of its time. Keep in mind, Hollywood now had a rating system rather than a Production Code, and it followed a decade that had seen films like Easy Rider (1969) and Midnight Cowboy (1969)...along with stuff such as Skidoo (1968). In other words, producers wanted to get with the "hip" crowd, but without getting too much into it. It was one of two X-rated films (well, at the time it was rated X, although now it is R) to be released by Fox alongside Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, which had unfavorable reviews as well, but it managed to be both a box office hit and find its own cult following (coincidentally, that movie also featured a film critic in its production). With this film, not only was the feature disowned by Vidal as a "joke" (albeit one he reportedly never saw), it effectively destroyed the career of the man who directed it as well in Michael Sarne (who occasionally dabbles in acting and painting). Vidal had the first crack at a script (of course Bud Yorkin was the first director in mind for the film), but it did not go well, because Fox (specifically producers David Brown and Richard Zanuck) apparently thought it needed to be as crazy and zany as one would think the ideas presented in the novel evoked. Sarne, who actually had a novelty hit as a singer in the 1960s, had exactly one other major studio film credit: Joanna (1968), which while not a hit at the time was at least given decent reviews. David Giler was brought in to try and deliver a script that would have apparently been a bit more straight-forward (while suggesting George Cukor to take over as director, which Sarne actually endorsed). Each would end up with a writing credit. If there ever was a more bewildering selection of cast mates for any particular movie, I'm sure this one would be one to discuss near the top. On one side, you have a star in Welch who wanted to try and escape the sex symbol status and try to aim for further legitimacy. On the other side introduces a(alleged) film critic with no prior acting experience in a key role. On another side, you have a famous director acting while the director behind the lines tells folks how much he hated his works (because he wanted Mickey Rooney, I kid you not). And, of course, Mae West, making a comeback movie while in the throes of feuding with Welch. Oh, and the debuts of Farrah Fawcett and Tom Selleck. If you think about it, any director that calls one of its stars an "old raccoon" (well, in retrospect, he stated she had a "marvelously artificial way of acting"), another a "old hack", and then spends valuable production time shooting food and "thinking"...probably got exactly what they deserved.  

What do you expect from a movie that has lines such as “the destruction of the last vestigial traces of traditional manhood”? Or how about "Myra Breckinridge is a dish, and don't you ever forget it, you motherfuckers - as the children say nowadays."?  My favorite was probably the one where she states as a Golden Age film nut that there wasn't an unimportant film made in Hollywood between 1935 and 1945 (????) Well, for one, you could expect a memorable experience, this much is true. Beyond the flurry of stock footage and name actors is a movie that drives exactly one thought through one's head: it is the equivalent of seeing someone trying to sing and walk while blindfolded...in a garden full of rakes (and judging by how miserable some of the folks were on the film, I would imagine that they would likely rather go through the rake rather than make the movie again if asked). In theory, this is an interesting cast to feature in a film, even with West in a pseudo-comeback move (Carradine, however, may end up being the most fitting person to have a one-note showing in an one-note movie). It starts with a bizarre dance sequence between two folks who can't quite match in rhythm (Reed and Welch) and never recovers from there. Oh, but don't even get started on the editing choices that come through a movie that acts like sitting still is a sin against nature. Sure, the biggest critique of the film at the time owed to how it managed to offend both folks that were already critical of the book (i.e. conservative audiences) AND folks that were curious to see a misguided attempt at making a studio movie of something that begs for an arthouse experience (or perhaps a French director, if we want to go further into esoteric mockery). The decision to use old film clips throughout the movie does not help matters either, since nothing of merit actually seems to be said with the clips, since this isn't exactly a worthwhile satire; sure, you can show a bunch of Laurel & Hardy clips all you want, but that isn't going to prove anything. Did I mention the twist ending? If this was the part that really sold the studio, they probably should have doubled the amount of alcohol they were drinking.  

If you can believe it, Welch actually wanted to play both Myra and Myron. I can believe that she really wanted to do a movie that would give her some sort of argument for being an actress beyond what you saw (and didn't hear). In a sea of bad decisions, she manages to do the best in terms of performance, probably because she gives it a great go for this artificial role. She can laugh at the movie now, and I can appreciate her attempts at comedy (or whatever is supposed to be present here) far more than anyone else here. Well, I would make a cutting remark about Rex Reed and his attempts at acting in a debut, but having to say "where are my tits?" is humiliating enough. Besides, he seethed at making the film and later talked plenty when it came time to write of the film and its troubled production (for which there was plenty of rope to hang).  Technically, Sarne has been quoted as saying he was "threatened" by Huston's presence, because, well, one would likely be quite speechless at having to direct a man would directed great movies and also acted from time to time in good ones (Sarne merely thought he couldn't act). Huston seems to doze his role with mild abandon, as if he knows that nothing he does here could possibly be the high or low point for an embarrassment like this, so being stuck in neutral is fair. Mae West had not appeared in a film since The Heat's On (1946). Of course, she had made a name for herself in the early sound-era with her raunchy presence...and she agreed to do this film provided she could write her own material. This somehow involves her having multiple music numbers. One could make a note about the dubiousness of West acting as if she is still 26, but stating that her performance seems like it is pulled out of a different movie is enough (that, and anybody who has a problem with Welch earns negative points); one could only wonder how making a flop like this did not stop her from trying to do another comeback a few years later with Sextette (1977) . It is the only film credit for Roger Herren, who either couldn't get film credits after this film or simply fell off the Earth. The infamous pegging scene probably didn't help. Of course, since it features stock footage being spliced in, it also manages to do exactly nothing with how confused it is. The supporting cast looks puzzled as to just what kind of movie they are in (yes, even Carmel), and yet the movie is always quite watchable in its dazzling failure of 94 minutes because it has dazzling style in clothing choices and in its shots that make the stuff shown on screen all the more baffling. 

Well, you have read a thousand words of talking about a turkey. Would I recommend trying to find this film? If you are a curious filmgoer who likes to watch dazzling bad taste...if you are a curious filmgoer who wants to see just how bad a movie can mangle attempts at satire or attempts at something involving gender...if you are a curious filmgoer who wants to see Raquel Welch in a role that shines above the cast in the most ironic of ways...if you can stomach all that, this is the movie for you. It is the mother of all ill-conceived ideas, one too curious to be thought of as the worst of anything but deserving of a great laugh at the expense of both filmmaker and studio.

Overall, I give it 4 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Inchon.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

Review #1409: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

Cast: 
John Wayne (Tom Doniphon), James Stewart (Ransom "Ranse" Stoddard), Vera Miles (Hallie Stoddard), Lee Marvin (Liberty Valance), Edmond O'Brien (Dutton Peabody), Andy Devine (Marshal Link Appleyard), Ken Murray (Doc Willoughby), John Carradine (Maj. Cassius Starbuckle), Jeanette Nolan (Nora Ericson), John Qualen (Peter Ericson), Willis Bouchey (Jason Tully), Carleton Young (Maxwell Scott), Woody Strode (Pompey), Denver Pyle (Amos Carruthers), Strother Martin (Floyd), and Lee Van Cleef (Reese) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah, #1324 - 3 Bad Men, #1349 - Stagecoach, #1372 - Fort Apache, and #1392 - The Searchers)

Review: 
"This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."

The ravages of time strikes all of us in the end. What is destiny and history but in the eye of the one telling it? This can apply as a philosophical question but also to film as well, particularly with John Ford and this particular film. The 1960s was the sixth and final decade in which Ford directed a film, having won four Best Director Academy Awards and two more for his war documentaries in the years before. It was not the last Western that he would direct (that went to his penultimate film Cheyenne Autumn, released two years later), nor was it his last feature (he directed four more films after this one, the last being 7 Women in 1966), but this film is generally regarded as the last great film of Ford's lengthy career, with Sergio Leone describing it was the only film that Ford "learned about something called pessimism." By this time in his career, Ford found it harder to fund his features, with this taking months for Paramount Pictures to greenlight the feature, and he found some resentment in having Wayne forced onto him as star, although said resentment could also be due to being shuttled off to second unit work not meant to be used on John Wayne's The Alamo (1960). This also happened to be Ford's last black-and-white film, and the decision to shoot it in this process was evidently his decision alone and not a matter of budget. Ford is on record for stating his preference for black-and-white photography over color, calling it "real photography" that requires one to be careful and know where to lay the shadows and make the right perspective. It just happens that it also helps in suspending disbelief (at least most of it) in the idea of 50-year old Wayne and Miles portraying characters significantly younger for a majority of the film, which would be filmed mostly on the lot as opposed to Monument Valley.

The film was adapted by writers James Warner Bellah and Willis Goldbeck from a 1953 short story by Dorothy M. Johnson. At any rate, this is an involving and successful look upon its ironic tale of a hero and his destiny, a thoughtful Western that utilizes its familiar company of actors and crew for Ford to tremendous effect. It moves at its own pace and structure at 123 minutes that is filled with more grit and realism than Ford's previous output, where the myth can prove to endure far more than the facts themselves, for better or worse. Stewart, as one would expect from such an distinct everyman like him, does tremendously well in carrying his composure and idealism in the face of danger and destiny, whether that means interacting with the townsfolk about statehood or having to use a gun to save himself. In that sense, Wayne fits like a glove on the other side of the main coin, significantly grittier in presence but still having plenty of rough conviction to make this compelling, despite his troubles with this film. He felt that this was a tough role for him, seeming merely functional to the plot to have to make a part out of (while opposing the idea that it was one with ambiguity, since he hated and distrusted ambiguity), and Ford's heaping of abuse (ranging from his failures to make it as a football player to his lack of war service) did not help. Miles accompanies the last angle of the film's careful love triangle with subtlety and care. Marvin, known for his supporting and villainous roles, excels in a title role with plenty of viciousness and grime to go around in each scene he is in, such as the delegate scene or the showdown near its end. O'Brien proves just as adept in inspiring curiosity as a presence and voice for a town, while Devine inspires a few chuckles as said town's supposed authority. Others don't have as much time on screen, but they do make it count, such as Carradine and his grand-old bluster present in the last twenty minutes or a composed Strode. One is invested in this tale that is being told through flashback without growing tired of its capturing of what made the Old West: a tall tale with honesty, amusement and a conclusion worth writing home about, where men can be made or broken on the strength of a lie (or in this case, a myth). In any case, this is an entertaining and thoughtful Western from John Ford as one would expect from such a distinguished filmmaker who honed his craft in delivering entertainment over the course of six decades that has something for everyone now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Stagecoach (1939).

Review #1349: Stagecoach.

Cast: 
Claire Trevor (Dallas), John Wayne (Ringo Kid), Andy Devine (Buck), John Carradine (Hatfield), Thomas Mitchell (Doc Boone), Louise Platt (Lucy Mallory), George Bancroft (Marshal Curley Wilcox), Donald Meek (Samuel Peacock), Berton Churchill (Henry Gatewood), and Tim Holt (Lieutenant Blanchard) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah and #1324 - 3 Bad Men)

Review: 
When the right actors and directors are in place to tell a tale of the Old West, it can make for great entertainment. In the early parts of the 20th century, there were plenty of Western films to go around, whether made with a bit of ambition in budget or made on the cheap. John Wayne served as star to several films of the latter category for a majority of the 1930s, most notably with Poverty Row company Monogram Pictures (although there were films he made with the bigger studios, albeit as B-pictures). Although one recognizes his good performance from his feature starring debut in The Big Trail (1930) now, it was considered a financial flop at the time, which did not help his career. But one man knew he had some promise. Who better to exude such confidence than John Ford? For his first Western in thirteen years, Ford tried to attract interest from the major studios to make his film the way he wanted, but it was Selznick International Pictures (founded by noted producer David O. Selznick) that found itself attracted to it more than the majors. Of course, Selznick wanted big name stars to headline the film like Gary Cooper or Marlene Dietrich as opposed to Wayne, but Ford stood firm and eventually found his producer in Walter Wanger with United Artists, albeit with a budget of just $500,000. The film is an adaptation of Ernest Haycox's 1937 short story "The Stage to Lordsburg", done so by Dudley Nichols, who had won an Academy Award for his screenplay in a previous collaboration with Ford earlier with The Informer (1935). A film like this would not come easy - for the director nor its stars. Ford was a man who liked to keep his actors on their toes, describing Devine at one point as a "big tub of lard" and Wayne as a "big oaf". Of course Devine provides a well-done performance (complete with his riding of six horses, which helped him get the part) and Wayne is the everyman that all should look up to, with Ford being the guide in challenging his actors to new heights. Of course one cannot forget Monument Valley, a region on the Arizona-Utah border with plenty of sandstone buttes to behold. Ford loved the place so much that he would return to use it for several films in the following decades, with its wide open spaces blending in with the studio-filmed coach sequences and the backlot usage for the town parts. One who should not be forgotten for their contributions is stuntman Yakima Canutt. The first is his help in suggestions when it came to trying to pull off a sequence with the stagecoach floating across a river with passengers in it (his solution? hollow logs tied to the coach). The second is his stunt-work with the memorable attack of the stagecoach by the natives, in which he rode full speed alongside the coach on a horse, with the most notable stunt being him falling between two lead horses before hanging from the rig before letting go to allow for the horses and the stagecoach to pass over him. Of course the way they handled the horses for filming during said sequence is not as astonishing, as they used a "Running W" device that essentially circled the legs of a horse with an iron clamp and strong wires for when they needed a horse to tumble after its rider was "shot" (with the obvious result being an effective trick but plenty of injured horses). The attitude towards Native Americans that this film has (as is the case with numerous Westerns of the time) is certainly dated, but I am sure it will note adversely affect the general enjoyment of the film as a whole.

One cannot forget about the ensemble in all of this. It is a brilliantly assembled group, each of which being clearly defined in their presence that does not get lost in the shuffle of adventure. A group of eccentric but well definable (and therefore relatable) folks on a trip wracked with some sort of problem either internally or externally seems fairly familiar, but this is a well-executed one at that, moving with the rhythm of a horse on the move. One cares for this group of travelers during this 96 minute trail, and it all starts with Wayne and his memorable close-up entrance. He provides wonderful dignity in a manner that extends to his time spent with Trevor. They share careful chemistry with each other, rolling with the tension that comes with a journey without needing to resort to cliches of the heart, which goes well with the weary vulnerability she exudes. Devine provides squeaky charm of the best sort - you would be proud to have him around for a ride or a story. One cannot forget Carradine (who went from stage company to 300-film company in a six decade career) and his sleek gambler nature that aligns with Platt in contrast quite well. Mitchell (in an Oscar-winning turn) provides warmth and eccentric nature through the wise drunk man routine that pays off in spades for each moment. Bancroft provides grit with authority that is to be expected to the ends the film needs to go to, while Platt, Meek and Churchill each provide distinct qualities that make them seem more than just in the background, wrapped in either dignity, meekness, or prejudice. By the time the film gets to its sequence involving the chase of the stagecoach through dangerous territory, one has found themselves never really wanting the trail to find its end, riveted at what they see go on with a crew at the top of their game for the perfect time (this of course did not stop someone from remaking it in 1966). The build-up to the final showdown is just as exquisite, magic in delivering tension without needing to show a big gun-fight to make an impact. Wayne became a star because of this film, and he would team up with Ford in several productions over the following three decades, most of which (but not all) being Westerns. 1939 was a great year for films, and this is one of those films, a legendary tale worth viewing to understand what one can do with an ensemble cast and a hard-nosed determined director at the helm to make history.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

A Star Is Born (1937).

Review #973: A Star Is Born.

Cast: 
Janet Gaynor (Esther Blodgett/Vicki Lester), Fredric March (Norman Maine), Adolphe Menjou (Oliver Niles), May Robson (Grandmother Lettie), Andy Devine (Daniel "Danny" McGuire), Lionel Stander (Matt Libby), Owen Moore (Casey Burke), Peggy Wood (Miss Phillips), Elizabeth Jenns (Anita Regis), Edgar Kennedy (Pop Randall), and J. C. Nugent (Mr. Blodgett) Directed by William A. Wellman (#349 - Wings, #494 - The Public Enemy, and #866 - Nothing Sacred)

Review: 
A Star Is Born is certainly a interesting film about the insides of Hollywood (made by people in the system), with a fair amount of melodrama and good performances all around. A Star Is Born is a neat flick that has had the fortune of being remade three times (1954 and 1976, with one coming out in 2018), but this one and its legacy cannot be understated; the fact that the film is in the public domain and is readily available doesn't hurt either. Gaynor has a fine capable charm to her that makes it easy to follow along with her on her path, and she even makes some neat impersonations of actors of the time. March does a fine job as well, portraying his self -destructive arc quite capably that fits in line with the tone of the film. They have a fine amount of chemistry together, seeming quite at ease with each other, with their last scene being quite fitting. Menjou is fairly interesting, making a decent and convincing impression. Robson and her character are quite quirky along with being useful to the film for the most part. Devine and his distinct raspy voice make for a fine side role that makes for some amusement. Stander does a fine job, showing the smarmy nature of his character that comes off as convincing along with helping to giving the film an edge of cynicism. It's not a film mired in optimism (nor pessimism), as it's a film that wants to show the glow along with the drama that goes on with Hollywood, albeit with some inspiration from real life, such as the marriage of Barbara Stanwyck and Frank Fay, though the film has some similarity to What Price Hollywood? (1932), and the studio that had made that film (RKO) had thought about suing Selznick International Pictures (the production company for this film) for plagiarism but had decided against it.

The cinematography by W. Howard Greene is quite nice, showcasing a fair amount of color that certainly stood out for the time. He was given an honorary Academy Award for his color photography on the film (fun fact: from 1936 to 1938, Special Achievement Academy Awards were given for color films, and from 1939-1967 (except for 1957), there were separate awards for black-and-white and color cinematography). This won the Academy Award for Best Writing (Original Story, which is now known as Best Original Screenplay), and it's not hard to see why. It has its heart and mind in the right place while running at a smooth pace of 110 minutes that doesn't have a minute of false nature to it.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.