Liliom (1934).

Review #2066: Liliom (1934).

Cast: 

Madeleine Ozeray (Julie/Her Daughter with Liliom), Charles Boyer (Liliom), Robert Arnoux (Strong Arm), Roland Toutain (Sailor), Pierre Alcover (Alfred), Alexandre Rignault (Hollinger), Raoul Marco (Detective), Antonin Artaud (Knife Grinder), Maximilienne (Madame Menoux), and Florelle (Madame Moscat) Directed by Fritz Lang (#333 - M, #500 - Metropolis, #1365 - Scarlet Street, #1619 - Destiny, #2009 - You and Me)

Review: 

Remember Liliom (1930)? who can't articulate their emotional feelings for each other beyond a spiritual connection that, well, made for an okay mess from Fox Film Corporation. But what about the other Liliom film, done for Fox within their "Europa" company in French? The only possible curiosity to watching a film that came out just four years after someone already made their production for Fox Film Corporation is the fact that Fritz Lang also apparently liked the film most among the ones he made. He was quoted a couple of years before his death as saying that he always liked it very much and even called it one he almost liked "best of all". You may or may not find what he is talking about here, but you have to remember that this was the film he made between The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933) and Fury (1936). Not exactly the easiest competition, although one wonders what the French Catholic clergy thought of those, since they did not like Lang's ideas involving Heaven. If you remember, the Austrian-born director (with Jewish heritage) found that he should leave Germany when the release of the Mabuse film saw bans by the Nazi regime, which actually had offered him an enticing position involving leading a studio. Obviously, he saw better than to do that, for which he left the country for good by the summer of 1933. He first settled in Paris before he eventually moved (and settled) in America after this film became a flop; his next film not directed for English-speaking audiences would not be until 1959. Lang, landing in a studio run by Erich Pommer, was offered the story for this film apparently over the choice of doing another one that involved detectives (that film, called A Man Has Been Stolen [On a volé un homme], was done by Max Ophüls but is now lost). It was written by Robert Liebmann (in adaptation) and Bernard Zimmer (dialogue).

Boyer had cultivated years of stage experience and supporting roles to eventual stardom in the 1930s, although he bounced around productions in Hollywood and his native France for the first number of years, which involved films such as this. He basically dominates the show in the manner you would expect from him, which works so well because of just how much he throws into a role that could have just been sunken by someone playing the role as just a miserable lout. It isn't a role that he is sent to make seem light (far from it, remember the source), and he does the job required in making a pathetic force of knowing unknowingness work within the bounds of a film that isn't exactly too tethered to reality. Ozeray is left with the other challenge that comes with having such a distinct lead presence in playing her role to a delicacy that won't be construed as just a doormat. The Belgian makes a fine case for going with Boyer in the face of what seems to be a foolishly doomed romance, one that only they can understand but can't quite say in clear words as to why they are there with each other. The film does take a deliberate pace within 116 minutes, but once it does settle among the place of gates in heaven and hell, it all comes together for curious viewing, (Rudolph Maté and Louis Nee did the cinematography for the film and do quite well with making the film look about right for whatever sort of "frivolous" level you can accuse Heaven as being depicted). For the film, one really can't just escape what decisions one makes "just like that", and I appreciate the irony set in depicting bureaucracy and even reviewing a clip from earlier in the movie. When it finally dawns upon one to reach back into the Earth after so long only to find themselves talking themselves into a corner, it does ultimately prove rewarding in the weirdest sense to see just how just one little motion can stoke old memories back in the favor of justice. As a whole, it is an odd little affair, but it is told with obvious interest from Lang to deal with life and death in a way that doesn't insult one's time or intelligence in the dealings of fantasy and illusion. It is a solid effort and one that could fit right into the dedicated structure that Lang favored when making films for as long as and effectively as he could for which we have the pleasure of searching for.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Well, you may already have an idea of what August will be all about judging by the title card. Last August dealt with action films and the one before that dealt with anniversaries...so for this August, why not go "Around the World"? That is correct, an entire month dedicated to as many world cinema films as possible, which could go anywhere from Russia to Japan (already a popular country here but you get the idea) to...somewhere new. I can't guarantee a set number, but I'm sure there will be at least ten interesting films to cover for interesting reviews in the month that seems right for such an odd little month. Enjoy.

History Is Made at Night.

Review #1863: History Is Made at Night.

Cast: 

Charles Boyer (Paul Dumond), Jean Arthur (Irene Vail), Leo Carrillo (Cesare), Colin Clive (Bruce Vail), Ivan Lebedeff (Michael, Vail's Chauffeur), George Meeker (Mr. Norton), Lucien Prival (Private Detective), George Davis (Maestro), and Pierre Watkin (Commodore Eldridge) Directed by Frank Borzage (#1611 - A Farewell to Arms)

Review: 

Admittedly, some genre-bender movies work a bit differently from others. Particularly if they are romance movies that also happen to have a climax that echoes the Titanic disaster to go along with the towering power of love (or something like that). Who else but Walter Wanger to bring such an enterprising production to the screen? Wanger, who started his producing career with The Sheik (1921), certainly liked to bring both message movies and romantic melodramas to the big screen over an extensive career that saw him work both on his own and with studios, with this being distributed by United Artists. He presented the title and a bare script to Borzage (known already with 7th Heaven (1927) and Bad Girl (1931) for romance triumphs) to pitch him the film, which apparently got him on board. The eventual movie was written by C. Graham Baker while the screenplay was done by Gene Towne, Vincent Lawrence & David Hertz. This wasn't exactly a new idea to have a melodrama infused with a natural disaster, as evidenced by films such as Cavalcade (1933) and San Francisco (1936).

It's a pretty good melodrama, all things considered, if only because it actually has a little fun playing screwball humor to go with its eventual turn of suspense to encapsulate a 95-minute experience that mostly gets it done in the ways that matter. The classic melodrama of the time may have had its contrived moments, but one can always find something energetic or dazzling when it comes to the right hands at director or in the chemistry of its stars. It results in a tender experience wrapped with plenty of warmth that carries itself well without becoming wrapped in all of the contrivances possible. Sometimes one requires a bit of sacrifice and struggle when it comes to romance...one that makes us fall for these two folks in how they are together, right down to each of them getting to engage the other with a hastily created hand puppet. Boyer makes for a charming rogue, one who glides through the film with charisma to spare in a down-to-earth sort of way that we gravitate to pretty quickly in ways slightly different from what he wound up doing in countless other movies. Arthur had been acting on-and-off since 1923 with fleeting notice, but The Whole Town's Talking (1935) and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) put her on the radar, and she certainly excels at making a sort of every-woman kind of role. It is the foibles that each one shows (mostly in Arthur) that we grow to appreciate, where her vulnerabilities are our vulnerabilities, and her dancing in a vacant restaurant (while fiddling with her heels) certainly makes for one of the more interesting sequences of their fluorescent whirlwind together. This was the penultimate role for Clive (who had gone from the stage in 1925 to both stage and film by the 1930s), who died from complications of tuberculosis a couple of months after the release of this film at the age of 37. He makes for a conniving third lead, one perverted in obsession that believes in how righteous they are all the way to the bitter end, which makes a suitable cold ham performance. Carrillo dazzles well in support by acting as the partner for Boyer for sequences involving high-strung people making the best of interesting scenarios, such as exploring the differences for waiters in France compared to America or a cook finding an old friend on a boat. It's a warm and crispy kind of movie, one where all the parts move with resourceful zip and energy to the proceedings. By the time it maneuvers to the ship for its climax, I was having a pretty breezy time enjoying the surroundings that around these folks that is engaging without being overbearing. Sure, one might know where the end road goes, but the path to get there is the enjoyable part and seeing them have to deal with impending ship doom is still a fine way to handle entertainment. As a whole, it is a nice experience lifted by Borzage and company for a solid gem of smiles all the way around that would be ripe for curious filmgoers everywhere.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Lost Horizon (1973).

Review #1601: Lost Horizon.

Cast: 

Peter Finch (Richard Conway), Liv Ullmann (Catherine), Sally Kellerman (Sally Hughes), George Kennedy (Sam Cornelius), Michael York (George Conway), Olivia Hussey (Maria), Bobby Van (Harry Lovett), James Shigeta (Brother To-Lenn), Charles Boyer (the High Lama), John Gielgud (Chang), and Kent Smith (Bill Fergunson) Directed by Charles Jarrott.

Review: 

"A picture of hope, of faith with a spiritual quality. We all need that with the pressures of the world... Everyone's looking for a place that has peace and security."

Sometimes one does not know where to start and stop in their pursuit of a movie Shangri-La. The 1933 novel by James Hilton (who had eight of his works turned into films), had been adapted into a film previously by Frank Capra in 1937. While it was generally received well at the time, it did not recover its $2 million budget for a few years. Incidentally, the same year that this film was released, the 1937 film was first being restored by the American Film Institute. The funny thing is that there is so many hands here known for better things. We have past and future Academy Award winners with Kennedy, Finch, and Gielgud. We have a B-movie actor-turned-dialogue director-turned producer in Ross Hunter that was known for films like Pillow Talk (1959), Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967), and Airport (1970). We have a director in Jarrot that received a fair bit of notice with Anne of the Thousand Days (1969) and Mary, Queen of Scots (1971). Composer Burt Bacharach and Hal David were a classic partnership in contributing songs together. And then...Hunter never produced another theatrical film after this, while Bacharach and David never worked together again. At least writer Larry Kramer (writer for Women in Love (1969)) came out of the affair well, in the sense that the money for doing it helped keep afloat for several years (he would become a playwright the year this film was released along with activism in the gay community alongside AIDS awareness).

An adventure can be tough at 150 minutes, but this is a musical fantasy adventure, which means one is in for incredible pain if it is done terribly. Would you be surprised to hear that this did not prove well with audiences? Bette Midler called it "Lost Her-Reason", and there isn't much in the film to argue against that. For the first thirty (or so) minutes, one is seeing a straight-laced adventure, as it has to set up its trappings and characters with clichés-I mean personality with flaws to inevitably confront later on. In that sense, it probably could have been an interesting adventure film that could have updated itself with finding a place of inner peace with the secrets that lurk within. And then Gielgud shows up, fur costume and all, to help usher them into their strange little utopia, complete with a re-used set (castle) from Camelot (1967). There might be a chance at a scene involving characters having a conversation, whether that involves a thought process over meeting the Lama or just about why it may be futile to think about smuggling gold out of paradise. Of course that can't happen, because it is a musical of the worst kind: one that doesn't know when to shut up. Simply put, the songs aren't too particularly interesting, the music to go alongside it is too sickeningly sweet to go alongside the fact that only three actors actually sung their lines (Kellerman, Shigmata, and Van). Of all the things to make a musical, why would you take an adventure like this and make a musical of it? The funny thing is that this was already tried: In 1956, the book was turned into a musical in Shangri-La (with Hilton credited for co-contribution to the book and lyrics), where it promptly ran for 21 performances on Broadway. The film was the last of a line of musicals that received a roadshow release, done after the boom of films like Mary Poppins, My Fair Lady, and so on (Pete's Dragon (1977) was evidently the last one to have such release).

I hope Finch (noted for films like A Town Like Alice (1956) and Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971)) liked what he saw from being the head of a dignified mess. After all, most of his "songs" are through internal monologue, for which he isn't singing them, but that's...better than the others? Worse? It is wooden all the way, but that is technically better than the star-studded clunkers following him. Ullmann (famous for a variety of roles, mostly with director Ingmar Bergman) acts in theory with the idea of sweet charm, dancing her way through dubbed songs with stiffness expected from casting non-musical actors for a musical. Now, now, Kellerman did in fact do her own singing and dancing, but that doesn't exactly leave her with more dignity in a Saturday school special type of acting fit for such a silly character, one that looks like she wants to be anywhere else but here. Kennedy is just as baffling, because one would almost think they should have tried for camp, but yet here we are with strange choices all the way through. York plays the strangest character present in both book and film: the skeptic, which he doesn't do well with in the least, probably because however legitimate his concerns with an obvious utopia are, he can't really do much with actually carrying this to anything worthwhile - besides, he is meant to be the brother of Finch's character, and the age difference between them is 26 years (!) - they might as well have been playing father-and-son. Hussey (most famous from Romeo and Juliet (1968), a film long sought to cover) falls to the wayside in silliness, mostly because one is more curious to see how the effect will go when the secretly elder one will age outside of the mountain...it ultimately reminds me of a peanut, which is pretty amusing. At least Van, a musical actor known for productions like No, No, Nanette and others for two decades, is somewhat right for what is needed in comic relief and singing, although one almost wonders if he would've been better as the lead somehow. Shigeta (who also did his singing like Kellerman and Van as a pioneer for leads for Asian Americans alongside TV and singing) seems sorely lacking, one who needs more to do than to just help shepherd these bread-like personalities through utopia silliness. This was the third-to-last role for Boyer, acting in a chair to some effect for like five minutes in a film that seems to have not updated itself one bit from films of Boyer's era. Gielgud later described his role as an "idiotic walkabout", one that seemed to not let him really act alongside noting his slight shame in taking the film to help in money problems. Being wrapped in a warm fur costume and a dubious script without having to sing and get paid for it? Sure, why not. There are technically highlights, in picking out the silly moments besides the hokum that comes through with such pallid singing, but my favorite is near the end, where Finch and York are travelling slowly away down the mountain, trying to keep up with the guides and they yell at them to slow down...which promptly leads to an avalanche occurring over the guides. The other little nugget comes from when Finch tries to go back in the end, and a brief song happens after he apparently reaches it - I just like to pretend he actually just when snow-blind again. On the whole, there is very little to like from a film that deserves all of its notations of turkey classification in how silly it all proves to be within an intolerable 150 minute run-time, ineffective execution of songs and dance, and its lack of anything meaningful to make a worthwhile adventure in utopia that merits needing more than one adaptation of the original material by Hilton. In short, it sucks.

Happy Thanksgiving. Next Time: Thirsty for more? It's time for Hobgoblins.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Around the World in 80 Days.

Review #1393: Around the World in 80 Days.

Cast: 
David Niven (Phileas Fogg), Cantinflas (Passepartout), Shirley MacLaine (Princess Aouda), and Robert Newton (Inspector Fix), with appearances from Edward R. Murrow (Prologue narrator), Finlay Currie (Andrew Stuart), Robert Morley (Gauthier Ralph), Noël Coward (Roland Hesketh-Baggott), Sir John Gielgud (Foster), Charles Boyer (Monsieur Gasse), Sir Cedric Hardwicke (Sir Francis Cromarty), Melville Cooper (Mr. Talley), John Carradine (Col. Stamp Proctor of San Francisco), Jack Oakie (Captain of the SS Henrietta), in addition to Fernandel, Cesar Romero, Reginald Denny, Peter Lorre, George Raft, Red Skelton, Marlene Dietrich, Frank Sinatra, Buster Keaton, Col. Tim McCoy, Joe E. Brown, Andy Devine, and various others. Directed by Michael Anderson (#717 - Logan's Run)

Review: 
"Do not refer to Around the World in 80 Days as a movie. It's not a movie. Movies are something you can see in your neighborhood theatre and eat popcorn while you're watching them....Show Around the World in 80 Days almost exactly as you would present a Broadway show in your theatre."

It should only prove fitting that a film like this was meant to be treated as a major event for the masses, since this was an experience like no other for a decade that had plenty of spectacle to show in a time that desired entertainment that manage to receive accolades for itself. No expense would be spared in making such a monumental exercise of excess, with six million being spent for over 60,000 extras and 70,000 costumes made/rented alongside thousands of actors and plenty of miles traveled to show something to try and impress the viewer, which should only prove appropriate for its producer in Mike Todd. He worked in a variety of jobs after dropping out of high school, such as selling shoes, drugstore soda jerk, and construction businessman before eventually finding interest in Broadway in the late 1930s. Over the course of the next few years, Todd would produce several shows on the stage that ranged from burlesques to musical comedy revues to even an operetta. In the 1950s, he found himself involved with film when he got involved in getting behind Fred Wallers' widescreen process Cinerama, which was featured most notably with This is Cinerama (1952). He soon moved to another venture involving a widescreen process that would bore his name in Todd-AO with Robert Naify in 1953, which would become a theater sound leader for films in the next few decades that simplified its setup to one camera and lens, with the Todd-AO widescreen process being debuted in Oklahoma! (1955).  Todd would reap plenty of benefits from producing this film, winning an Academy Award for Best Picture to go along with four other awards for color cinematography, editing, scoring, and adapted screenplay (which had three writers, including John Farrow, who directed a bit of footage before quitting). Tragically, Todd would die just two years after the film's release in a plane crash at the age of 48.

This was based off Jules Verne's 1872 novel of the same name, which has been adapted to several forms of media alongside film over the past century. Interestingly enough, this film begins by showing snippets from another adaptation of a Jules Verne work in A Trip to the Moon (1902), likely one of the most influential films of its time from noted director Georges Méliès. Both do a fine job when it comes to showing a sense of wonder and imagination, this much is true. In the case of Todd's production, he surely wanted to keep people's attention for 182 minutes with a travelogue around the world that is worth one look for the curiosity of it all, particularly whether to see if it has lost any of its luster to time, which does sometimes seem the case. One cannot deny that Niven and Cantinflas do a tremendous job together, inspiring curiosity and humor at times when together. Niven does his part with the type of dignity and composure that one enjoys for an adventure. Cantinflas, a Mexican icon for comedy then as now, proves to be quite amusing with his antics, such as when gets into a bullfight (as performed by the actor himself). MacLaine (in her third role of her film career) shows up somewhere in the middle of all this, and she nearly becomes lost with all theses presences around, where Newton's bluster proves effective as a foil to all of this. One may very well play a game of spot-the-international star when trying to pass the time when it seems the film is flying up its own ego, whether that means a wordless piano performance from Sinatra or hammy times with Raft and Carradine or one-shot turns like Lorre or Keaton, where half don't even have names to go with their "role", although at least it is nice to see Hardwicke and Gielgud. The film is nice to look upon at times, whether through a costume or some scenery to view upon. It is a film aiming for light-heart entertainment that succeeds on fair craftsmanship in the parts that matter without becoming a complete shell of arrogance that could kill a more pompous ambition. Adventures like this can be fun if one is in the mood for what it is trying to sell and have three hours to spend with spectacle.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Love Affair (1939).

Review #1350: Love Affair.

Cast: 
Irene Dunne (Terry McKay), Charles Boyer (Michel Marnet), Maria Ouspenskaya (Grandmother Janou), Lee Bowman (Kenneth Bradley), Astrid Allwyn (Lois Clarke), Maurice Moscovitch (Maurice Cobert), Scotty Beckett (Boy on Ship), and Frank McGlynn Sr. (Orphanage Superintendent) Directed by Leo McCarey (#085 - Duck Soup)

Review: 
Sometimes, one just needs a quaint romance film. In that sense, I suppose it shouldn't be surprising to have it be from Leo McCarey. A graduate of USC Gould School of Law, he tried his hand at various professions from law to songwriting before being hired by Tod Browning as an assistant director in 1919, based on a referring by actor and future director David Butler. His subsequent work with Hal Roach at his studio helped with skills in humor for gags, such as with the Our Gang series or shorts with Charley Chase (who McCarey felt appreciation for helping him in his career). He started his feature career with Wild Company (1930) and had a career of four decades with numerous headline stars ranging from the Marx Brothers (Duck Soup) to Dunne and Cary Grant (The Awful Truth, 1937) to Bing Crosby (Going My Way, 1944), with his work resulting in three Academy Awards (twice for direction, once for story). This film was the work of five writers: Delmer Daves, Donald Ogden Stewart, S.N. Behrman for screenplay and director-producer McCarey and Mildred Cram for story.

I will admit that this film does succeed in working some of its charm on me to win me over. In lesser hands, this could have proven to be a mawkish and overly sentimental mess, particularly with its second half turn. However, a smooth duo and gentle direction makes this worth a look, particularly with a fair pace at 87 minutes. Dunne does a tremendous job here, pulling off an expressive and graceful performance that resonates with the charming and absorbing Boyer. The rest of the cast is decent enough, such as a warm but quick appearance from Ouspenskaya. Of course the turn with having one of the leads being run over nearly derails the experience. I suppose not telling your lover about the fact you couldn't walk to avoid being a burden could make sense (I favor brutal honesty), but McCarey manages to make the eyes focused on how these two will adjust apart rather than rolling over, where improvisation rules the day more than predictability. When it reaches its end, one will find satisfaction with how it served for entertainment, accomplishing what it sets out to do without too many troubles. At least one can say its main stars liked their experiences, since Dunne and Boyer both described it as their favorite in their careers, and the two would later star in two more films together. Interestingly enough, this film has been remade twice. The first was in 1957 with An Affair to Remember with Grant and Deborah Kerr directed by none other than McCarey again. It was then remade under the original title in 1994 with Warren Beatty, Annette Bening, and Katherine Hepburn with direction by Glenn Gordon Caron. In any case, one can find this in the public domain and not regret their decision, a film with some passion and effectiveness from its stars and director that go together nicely.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Algiers.

Review #1348: Algiers.

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

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

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

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.