Night of the Demon.

Review #2459: Night of the Demon.

Cast: 

Dana Andrews (Dr. John Holden), Peggy Cummins (Joanna Harrington), Niall MacGinnis (Dr. Julian Karswell), Athene Seyler (Mrs. Karswell), Liam Redmond (Professor Mark O'Brien), Peter Elliott (Professor Kumar), Maurice Denham (Professor Harrington), Reginald Beckwith (Mr. Meek), Rosamund Greenwood (Mrs Meek), and Brian Wilde (Rand Hobart) Directed by Jacques Tourneur (#998 - I Walked with a Zombie, #1898 - Cat People, #2280 - The Leopard Man)

Review: 

"The real horror is to show that we all live unconsciously in fear. Many people suffer today from a fear that they don't begin to analyze and which is constant. When the audience is in the dark and recognizes its own insecurity in that of the characters of the film, then you can show unbelievable situations and be sure that the audience will follow. For another thing, people love to be afraid."

Naturally, this was a movie loosely based on an old short story. M. R. James wrote a handful of stories for More Ghost Stories of an Antiquarty in 1911, and "Casting the Runes" was one of them. Charles Bennett had the rights to the story and thus made a screenplay ("The Haunted") that loosely took inspiration from the short story. He sold the story to producer Hal E. Chester (much to Bennett's regret, because he later found that people like Robert Taylor and Dick Powell were interested in being in the film*) who ended up making changes that resulted in him getting a co-credit, although it was really blacklisted writer Cy Endfield who crafted significant parts of the screenplay. For whatever reason, the movie was called "Curse of the Demon" in the States (often with a double feature pairing with 20 Million Miles to Earth) with a runtime of 82 minutes that cut certain sequences from the original 96-minute cut. This was the last horror movie Tournier made as a director (famously, he apparently rejected the term "horror movies", stating once he made "films on the supernatural" because he believed in it). Tourneur was involved in the project because Ted Richmond (the producer of his prior film Nightfall) gave Chester a recommendation, which in turn got Tournier to show the script to Andrews.  Apparently, the demon was a contentious aspect of the movie for the filmmakers. Hal E. Chester and his co-producer wanted to show the demon at the start and end of the film, but Tourneur and Bennett weren't happy about it, with the latter being once quoted as saying that if Chester was up at his driveway, he would shoot him (a book about the making of the film by Tony Earnshaw contends including the demon was planned from the start anyway). Tournier claimed that the movie was "ruined" by showing the demon from the beginning, stating that he shot just one scene with the idea of a demon in the cloud sequence. Tourneur did five further movies as a director: The Fearmakers (1958), The Giant of Marathon (1959), Timbuktu (1959), The Comedy of Terrors (1964), and City Under the Sea (1965).

Let's get one thing out of the way: of course you show the damn demon on screen. This was the 1950s man, you can't go with the power of suggestion and "maybe" seeing something, at a certain point you're going to do something when "Demon" is in the film title (showing a cloud only for a movie like this would be silly, arguably). At any rate, what we have here is a solid little movie, managing to evoke a sense of dread through mood and atmosphere, one that arguably is Tournier's best horror movie when compared to Cat People (why anyone would reject the term horror movie is beyond me). It lurks in the shadow of noir that gradually makes you wonder just what may be beyond what eyes and ears can sense. It helps that Andrews (who apparently wasn't a fan of Chester either) is the right type of rigid for this role, one whose skepticism can only come from a place of flustered vulnerability that we understand that some can look mystery in the face and see a bottomless pit. Sure, we know there's something lurking beyond the wind rustling, but it helps to have a movie that is patient in the push-and-pull of belief and devotion. MacGinnis is practically the same in that regard when it comes to vulnerability, mainly because he is not merely a mad magician but is instead one who is consumed by a force greater than one could imagine, one who could play tricks for the youth but instead plays tricks on himself and those around him. The rest of the cast do a pretty fine job in that usual dignity of a horror movie that isn't about body counts or creature effects (the demon does look good, in close-up anyway) but instead of the terror of imagination going awry. My one little gripe is with the ending, specifically the very last scene. After spending a whole movie getting his ideas about the supernatural all mixed up, complete with seeing a cloud of smoke and something that may be a demon inflict fear on someone else for the climax...he doesn't go to inspect the body, instead leaving with the girl. I don't know man, I know these movies love to make sure to set the guy up with the girl at the end but c'mon, some things really are better to know. In general, what we have is a pretty neat movie involving the power of belief and what comes from those who are engulfed by it to subservience and those who know exactly where the road leads. It's one of those esteemed old movies that definitely deserve a look, that's for sure.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Oh who cares about Taylor and Powell when you have Dana Andrews?

Boomerang! (1947)

Review #2372: Boomerang! (1947)

Cast: 

Dana Andrews (State's Attorney Henry L. Harvey), Jane Wyatt (Madge Harvey), Lee J. Cobb (Chief Harold F. "Robby" Robinson), Cara Williams (Irene Nelson), Arthur Kennedy (John Waldron), Sam Levene (Dave Woods), Taylor Holmes (T. M. Wade), Robert Keith ("Mac" McCreery), Ed Begley (Paul Harris), and Karl Malden (Det. Lt. White) Directed by Elia Kazan (#104 - East of Eden, #109 - A Streetcar Named Desire, #110 - On the Waterfront, #1375 - Panic in the Streets, #1406 - Splendor in the Grass)

Review: 

"I really will be able to do this picture the way I think pictures should be made. It was our neo-realism."

Sure, it's easy to forget that some movies really can play fast and loose with facts. Here we have Elia Kazan's third feature film as a director, which came in the wake of his debut two years prior in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945). 1947 actually brough three different movies for Kazan as a director: The Sea of Grass (1947) was an MGM Western featuring Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn that for some reason managed to have Kazan express his dislike in later years. Gentleman's Agreement, released in November of 1947, wound up winning Kazan an Academy Award for directing. But Boomerang! (which as with Gentleman was released by Fox) was the second movie to come through for audiences, being released in March of 1947. The movie took its material from a 1945 article in The Reader's Digest called "The Perfect Case", which had been written by Fulton Oursler based on an actual crime that happened in 1924; Richard Murphy wrote the film script. In that year, in the city of Bridgeport in Connecticut, after eight days of anguish over the murder of Father Hubert Dahme, Harold Israel, a vagrant, was arrested and charged for the murder. Israel had given a confession and had been found with a revolver, but through the efforts of state attorney in Fairfield County Homer Stille Cummings, Israel was found innocent, and the indictment was dropped*. Cummings in general was a fascinating person: the Yale graduate actually had served as Mayor of Stamford, Connecticut for four years in the 1900s and he later served in committee work with the national Democratic Party. And, true to the end of the movie, Cummings actually did become U.S. Attorney General, serving six years from 1933 to 1939 (among the things he did in office was make bank robbery a federal crime). Israel essentially faded away into history, dying in the mid 1960s, although he was reported as having been married with children years after being freed, although the case was never solved. He wasn't particularly big on the first two movies he did when it came to their production style (done entirely on sound stages), but the chance to do shooting in Stamford, Connecticut interested him, since Kazan stated that at the time, he "shared the appetites" of neorealist filmmakers (such as Vittorio De Sica with Shoeshine, for example); a few non-professional actors are present in some shots. Kazan's next movie would be Pinky (1949); of his first five films, apparently, he was only big on A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

Technically the movie is cited as being a "semi documentary", which is probably helped by the narration heard every so often from Reed Hadley, who had been used to narrate prior films such as The House on 92nd Street (1945) (the narrative touch was big with producer Louis de Rochemont, who was involved with documentary stuff). This is the kind of movie that probably would be interesting to compare with Kazan's subsequent Panic in the Streets (1950) in straight to the bone procedurals. Kazan wasn't as fond of Boomerang! in his later years, basically calling it "the same studio machine - brought outdoors", but he at least stated his learned certain little tricks and techniques because of making the movie (he also once stated he could do a film anywhere and didn't need sets or movie stars). Sure, maybe the actors are still "movie actors", but at least there is an interesting atmosphere of doubts and failings, where a murder investigation turns itself into a city-wide infection that leaves only the reporters with any sort of satisfaction at the end of things. The police** don't win in the end and even the people that knew the victim don't win any sense of peace in the end, suffice to say. Andrews is pretty reliable in uncomplicated feelings that arise in not rolling with just being a cog in the machine of others around them, which works out for the usual reliable presence you would hope for. Cobb probably sticks out just as much in what he gets from his routines, one who shows the weary nature that comes from pressure that probably works the best among the cast, although Kennedy makes for a useful near-sacrificial lamb in worried nature. Of course, the 88-minute runtime does mean there are moments spent with other people about stuff tangentially related to the murder, specifically with Begley and the conniving nature that comes in bits and parts before it literally shoots itself for the climax. Sure, it doesn't have as much power as it likely could have (Williams comes to mind in that regard), but the routines with the ins and outs of the world of people is interesting enough to hold the movie down to at least some fascination. Sure, Kazan may be a bit hard on himself with his own assessment, but it is at least a solid movie to recommend for those who like an old-fashioned yarn.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Strangely, I am reminded of another actual case involving coerced confessions and Connecticut with Peter Reilly, who in 1973 was convicted of murder at the age of 18 when cops essentially lied to and coerced him to confess by refusing to let him sleep in a long interrogation - this was a case that happened in the 1970s, mind you.

**Remember: don't fuck around if in the web of a cop, whether that means knowing your rights and asking for a lawyer. Peter Reilly became a reform advocate, particularly for a bill in his state named SB1071. This was a bill trying to curb on deceptive tactics by cops for people under the age of 18, and go figure, not every state has this on their books, but Connecticut now does. See, I don't hate cops, I just know they can give you bad juju if something is in the wrong place.

The Ox-Bow Incident.

Review #2214: The Ox-Bow Incident.

Cast: 

Henry Fonda (Gil Carter), Dana Andrews (Donald Martin), Harry Morgan (Art Croft), Frank Conroy (Major Tetley), Harry Davenport (Mr. Arthur Davies), Anthony Quinn (Juan Martínez / Francisco Morez, The Mexican), Francis Ford (Alva Hardwicke, The Old Man), William Eythe (Gerald Tetley), Mary Beth Hughes (Rose Mapen / Rose Swanson), and Jane Darwell ("Ma" Jenny Grier) Directed by William A. Wellman (#349 - Wings, #494 - The Public Enemy, #866 - Nothing Sacred, #973 - A Star is Born, #1387 - Track of the Cat)

Review: 

Once upon a time, you could come across a whole variety of Westerns in the same year. The Ox-Bow Incident was a special kind of case that seems apt to come from a craftsman director in William A. Wellman, because he had wanted to do an adaptation of Walter Van Tilburg Clark's novel of the same name, which had been published in 1940 (you might recognize Clark from the fact that Wellman would direct a second Clark adaptation years later with Track of the Cat). The novel was a distinct success with readers in ways different from one could read in usual dime store stuff or films that had covered the dangers of a mob in say, Fritz Lang's Fury (1936), for example. At any rate, Wellman's persistence in wanting to make a film based on the book paid off eventually, doing so with 20th Century Fox (on the condition of doing two films in return) that was shot mostly in studio backlots and sound stages. The film was written and produced by Lamar Trotti, who had added the latter category to his line of work beginning with Thunder Birds (1942), which incidentally had been directed by Wellman. The fact that the film went by the Production Code is interesting, because, well, it depicts a lynching in 1885. It should be noted that Fonda himself had seen a riot that soon turned into a lynching when growing up in Nebraska in 1919, and it probably isn't too surprising that he called this one of the few movies he liked doing at 20th Century Fox and in general. Released in the midst of wartime, the movie was not a hit with audiences on release (with Zanuck noting that even a Laurel and Hardy movie outperformed it), but its legacy has certainly grown in the eight decades since its release. 

What we have is a lean and mean drama of the most efficient kind. It is quite thorough in showing the perils of mob rule and what would happen in a society where the "very conscience of humanity" in law is ignored in a sweeping generalization. The uncompromising truth can hurt when it stares you right in the face because of how timeless that realization is: if you get enough people together to be complicit in an action (whether that involves actions of vigilantism or war), you can do plenty of damage and maybe be able to get away with it, at least if one doesn't mind possibly losing a bit of one's soul in the process. The system of values that we want to hold dear only work if we are willing to accept that for every action we think is "right" to do, we have to accept that there are just as many that we have to confront that are "wrong" that can't be ignored. Among the genre of the Western, it belongs to what we could call a "revisionist" Western (of course that label is more for stuff that happened after the end of the Production Code, but still) that looks upon the Old West and sees just as many cultivators of impulse as there are at the moment. There are no real heroes to be found here, but it doesn't mean the performances are lacking anyway, as evidenced by seeing Fonda play observer in the web of paranoia and impulse that is handled with simple grace that Fonda knows how to do so naturally. Seeing a town lose their soul in the shambling display of mostly unified display of "might makes right" is fit for Fonda and Morgan to waltz into. Andrews leads the group (Quinn and Ford) suffering from the eyes of impulsive fools with a worthy display of anguish worthy of a martyr for one that really was just trying to be a man in a frontier that varies in its view of them. Conroy and Eythe handle the dynamic that arises in defining "what a man looks like" and finding that action really does speak louder than words in the worst possible ways that makes for such a harrowing lesson in the nature of shame and not allowing older authority to take all heed over oneself (regardless of if it is say, a former Confederate). The film builds that gut-churning tension of what may and may not happen when it comes to a town looking for what it thinks is justice to hold to worthwhile realization in sheer audacity. Nothing is easy to find in answers or in letters, but the shame of living with what one sees is probably apt for a lesson to stew on, unless one has a reason to get out of town and start anew. As a whole, it is a pretty good Western that is a cut above a good chunk of the Westerns in its era fitting for a craftsman like Wellman in handling a tale that can still be played for eras of the present about mob rule, for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Good Guys Wear Black.

Review #2045: Good Guys Wear Black.

Cast: 

Chuck Norris (Major John T. Booker, The Black Tigers), Anne Archer (Margaret), James Franciscus (Senator Conrad Morgan), Lloyd Haynes (Murray Saunders), Dana Andrews (Edgar Harolds), Jim Backus (Albert, The Apartment Doorman), Lawrence P. Casey (Mike Potter, The Black Tigers), Anthony Mannino (Gordie Jones, The Black Tigers), and Soon-Tek Oh (Major Mhin Van Thieu, The Black Tigers) Directed by Ted Post (#518 - Hang 'Em High, #662 - Beneath the Planet of the Apes, and #1135 - Magnum Force)

Review: 

Hell, there really is no way to start watching a Chuck Norris film. Born in Oklahoma, Norris served in the United States Air Force Security Forces that saw him serve in South Korea and California. It was here that he trained in Tang Soo Do that lead to a black belt in that form along with him developing his own form. He participated in martial arts competitions and eventually proved quite successful. The first feature film that Norris had a credited role was The Way of the Dragon (1972), a martial arts action comedy that was made by Bruce Lee (star and director) that featured a fight sequence between him and Lee. Steve McQueen, who was a student of Norris, encouraged him to take acting classes around this time. His next prominent role was Yellow Faced Tiger (1974), a Lo Wei-directed film. Norris got his chance to star in his very own film with Breaker! Breaker! (1977), as directed by Don Hulette that was shot in just under two weeks. It ended up being a fair hit on its low budget. It was his next film, however, that he considered his breakthrough, with Norris stating that he had the faith to be as big in the movies as he was in the karate industry. This isn't to forget the directing contribution of Ted Post, of course. Post had served in the U.S. Army in their Special Service division in Italy before his return to the States saw him become a dependable name to hire for television, as signified by the many credits for shows such as Peyton Place, Gunsmoke, and several others. His most noted films either involved Clint Eastwood (two films) or certain cult classics such as The Baby (1973) and Go Tell the Spartans (1978). The screenplay was done by Bruce Cohn and Mark Medoff while the story was done by Joseph Fraley.

I will say this much, it technically is entertaining as a film despite being an obvious case of overblown hooey. Maybe it is just because it is my first experience watching Norris on a big screen (in the early parts of the career), but I think I can sum up his acting in a couple of words: he talks like an instructional guidebook for using a power tool, which is almost sort of amusing when he is meant to be presented as the serious man of a conspiracy thriller that we know is going to eventually have to do some kicking. Even at 96 minutes, the runtime is perhaps a bit too drawn out to actually merit anything other than bemusement for its paranoia despite not having enough there to really make a grand film. Simply put, it does not have enough action to back up its ambition nor is it effective enough in its convictions to get out of the quicksand despite having a cynical bent. Maybe it is a bit silly to compare, but think back to something released later on such as Above the Law (1988), which featured an American karate name starring in a film playing an ex-CIA guy thrust back into the world of danger that has a villain all about using people for their own means without caring about the consequences (of course, the hero in one of them is a cop and the other is a college professor, so there's that). Sometimes you just need a bit more. I will say though, that the film at least has a few distinct names, whether that involves Haynes (most known for Room 222), Andrews (hey, he was a noir lead for the 1940s and a dependable character presence), or Archer (in an early moment), or with Franciscus (a regular television presence and a few films). Of these folks, it might be Andrews who steals the show when it comes to chewing the scenery in one-note effectiveness (read: exposition), although Haynes is dependable. Archer and Norris don't fare particularly great together, but it is more than can be said for Franciscus, who only gets to show the scuzzy side in the opening and closing. It isn't particularly thrilling to be interesting, and it isn't particularly active to be dependable entertainment beyond the scale of mediocrity. Norris and company obviously know how to stage a good stunt, but it takes a bit more to really make a useful winner, but one never knows with a different film in the future.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Tobacco Road.

Review #1827: Tobacco Road.

Cast: 

Charley Grapewin (Jeeter Lester), Marjorie Rambeau (Sister Bessie Rice), Gene Tierney (Ellie May Lester), William Tracy (Dude Lester), Elizabeth Patterson (Ada Lester), Dana Andrews (Capt. Tim Harmon), Ward Bond (Lov Bensey), Slim Summerville (Henry Peabody), Grant Mitchell (George Payne), and Zeffie Tilbury (Grandma Lester) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah, #1324 - 3 Bad Men, #1349 - Stagecoach, #1372 - Fort Apache, #1392 - The Searchers, #1409 - The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, and #1778 - 3 Godfathers)

Review: 

"We have no dirt in the picture. We’ve eliminated the horrible details and what we’ve got left is a nice dramatic story. It’s a tear-jerker, with some comedy relief. What we’re aiming at is to have the customers sympathize with our people and not feel disgusted.”

Sometimes even a famous director has a film falls through the cracks. This is one of those films, even with the source material it arose from: the 1932 novel of the same name, which had been written by Erskine Caldwell, which in turn was successful and controversial enough to spawn a play that had been written by Jack Kirkland that premiered on December 4, 1933. The play ran for nearly eight years over the span of two theatres for 3,182 performances, which is the second-longest running non-musical on Broadway. When it came time to possibly sign the right for a film adaptation, Kirkland wanted someone who would help to picturize the film with honesty and fearlessness (as they put it), or at the very least one that could make a useful profit. Of course, the idea to make a movie out of it took a number of years and negotiations due to objections from the Production Code, which thought the contents of the play would not be suitable for a film, which scuttled RKO Radio Pictures from their idea to do a film with Charles Laughton as the lead (as opposed to the lead star of the production, Henry Hull). By 1940, the responsibility would spring for 20th Century Fox, who the Production Code likely favored because they had just adapted The Grapes of Wrath (1940) into a feature film, and the director and writer would be the same for this one: John Ford and Nunnally Johnson, respectively. The studio decided to avoid any potential judgement by shooting in Sherwood Forest and Encino in California as opposed to Augusta, Georgia (since the title of the book refers to a road for tobacco, not the rivalry of the same name that involves the state of North Carolina). The film ended up making almost $2 million in box office returns on release, which means a fair success. Honestly, even peering at the synopsis of the book or play makes one curious on just how one really thought that making a rural comedy with such strange enthusiasm was a good idea. Aspects are familiar, since the play features tattered clothed sharecroppers with bad soil that means one can't make the crop or a proper living, and the family sees one of their own get married to a preacher before having to face the prospect of the bank taking over the property, complete with a prideful patriarch that wouldn't dream of working in a cotton mill. The play has been cited as a "challenging play", since it isn't just a tragedy or a comedy but a mix that ended up with bans in major cities as immoral; of course, the film doesn't feature the cleft lip for the character of Ellie May or the boneless nose of Sister Bessie, although apparently the constant honking of the car horn from the Dude character is actually in the book. The film runs at 84 minutes.

Of course, some folks (me) did not actually watch The Grapes of Wrath, but I am sure there are more folks who haven't seen Tobacco Road, particularly with all the other John Ford films out there; of course, I do imagine there are some folks who aren't quite as familiar with Ford's non-Western output. I am astounded at the idea that one could turn a book that features folks being burned to death and grotesque descriptions and utter depravity...and turn it into a weird mix of comedy and drama with a hopeful bow on top of it all but such is the life under a Production Code. Grapewin certainly must have been the lucky one in the whole proceedings, since it might have been strange to see a different studio try to consider someone like Walter Brennan or even Henry Fonda for the role. Instead, it went to a man that ran away from home to dabble in the circus and Broadway before becoming a film actor, with one of his films coincidentally being The Grapes of Wrath; one can only imagine how it feels to have a starring role at the age of 72. Actually, he does fine with the performance here, if only because he maintains a stubborn sense of lazy pride is probably the most endearing of the cast-mates, engaging without awful caricature. Rambeau does chew the scenery a bit as a ham, but at least it is a serviceable ham performance that homes in some sort of interest when it comes to weird hypocrisy that entails a bit of singing. Tierney is seemingly used just for shots of longing that might have worked in a more desperate film. Patterson does fine alongside Grapewin in terms of long-standing diligence in the face of squalor. Tracy fares the worst, if only because one does not want to hear so much hooting and hollering, which indeed includes him honking a car horn from time to time. Andrews and Bond are in the background for most of the film as if they are just name actors, but at least they seem game for "mild presence" and "goofball foil" types. Honestly, while I can understand the appeal of optimistic features, the movie just doesn't seem to ring the right notes to actually make it sound believable enough to work for a whole time. It seems too easy, too nice-looking, and too loud to really belong to the pantheon of memorable Ford films. Maybe there is something "subversive" in the maintained status of a proud family from Georgia or something, but one knows that even an average Ford film is still better than a mediocre movie, since it does manage to be efficient with its time in not wasting all of it. I can't exactly recommend the movie as one to start on when it comes to looking at John Ford, but I can say that it does what it wants to do in mild amusement and engagement without becoming completely interminable, so I suppose that can be more than enough for those curious enough for a film from long ago.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Airport 1975.

Review #1675: Airport 1975.

Cast: 

Charlton Heston (Captain Alan Murdock), Karen Black (Chief-Stewardess Nancy Pryor), George Kennedy (Joe Patroni), Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (Captain Stacy), Gloria Swanson (Herself), Susan Clark (Helen Patroni), Helen Reddy (Sister Ruth), Linda Blair (Janice Abbott), Dana Andrews (Scott Freeman), Myrna Loy (Mrs. Devaney), Sid Caesar (Barney), Roy Thinnes (First Officer Urias), Ed Nelson (Maj. Alexander), Nancy Olson (Mrs. Abbott), Larry Storch (Glenn Purcell), Martha Scott (Sister Beatrice), Norman Fell (Bill), Jerry Stiller (Sam), and Conrad Janis (Arnie) Directed by Jack Smight.

Review: 

There are quite a few times that you see a sequel to a movie and wonder why there was a second one to begin with. Unfortunately, you know, and I know, the reason that there exists a sequel like Airport 1975 (1974): money. People really couldn't get enough of big stars to go with airplanes in trouble, complete with a title that I suppose was made to sound like it came from the future. It appears that the budget was reduced in the four years since the last film in 1970 (from ten to three million), but this one also managed to make over $100 million, and one can only wonder how rentals would go for this fellow turkey. To be fair, one probably can't blame Jack Smight for his direction here. He did his work in both television and film (starting with the former since its golden age in the 1950s), and this was the eleventh of seventeen films that he would direct from 1964 to 1989, with Harper (1966) generally being the one that stands out among his work. I'm sure you might remember Airplane! (1980) when it comes to its take on the disaster genre...and those little gags that might seem familiar to those who have seen both films, what with a kid that is awaiting a transplant as soon as they make an airplane trip (complete with a doctor calling beforehand to make sure they aren't startled), and a singing nun that plays to the kid. Now, technically Reddy was qualified to sing, because she was actually a singer (with one newspaper outlet describing her as the "Queen of '70s Pop", after all)...so keep that in mind in trying to figure out which one is a parody. That 1980 film also had Ethel Merman in a cameo appearance, while this feature has Gloria Swanson playing herself (if you really want to stretch this around into an oblong circle, Linda Harrison accompanies her...while using a second name as "Augusta Summerland"...yes). I am not playing you for a bit, because Airport 1975 actually features Dana Andrews in a brief appearance, and Andrews had starred in Zero Hour! (1957), which Arthur Hailey had adapted from his teleplay a few years prior while eventually writing the novel Airport...and Airplane! would lift lines from said movie. At least one will get to see the pair of Heston and Kennedy again, because they had co-starred in another disaster film with Earthquake (1974), which was also done by Universal Studios.

So yes, there are a few strange folks present here, whether that means a trio of odd drunks overshadowed by Myrna Loy playing a more eccentric drunk...or Swanson, who had apparently wrote all of her lines. Strangely enough, this may actually be better than the original film, mostly because of one thing: it manages to be so cheesy that it nearly defies reason. It is so self-serious at the weirdest times that one wonders how exactly this was the only film credit for screenplay man Don Ingalls, who specialized in television from Have Gun - Will Travel to Fantasy Island. It sometimes feel like a script that mutated from the bins of television hokum and engulfed any famous person they could find, who I hope managed to enjoy the monetary benefits of this sham spectacle. Heston is technically the star, in that he gets to ham the screen up from moment to moment while doing the bare minimum in charisma and minimal plane involvement. One wonders if he was worn out from the aforementioned film about the earthquake. Kennedy blusters through some shouting in a performance that is probably degraded from what one saw in the first film, although it can be said that in the earlier movie he was more of a helpful highlight (since if you remember, the airplane trouble was somewhere sidelined behind lots of gobbledygook about affairs and the airplane industry). Ah, but the real presence is Black, making her shift into commercial work after a string of noted supporting roles. While it isn't a great performance by any means, I'm sure I wouldn't fare much better at fumbling with the controls and not collapsing into panic with trying to fly a plane over mountains (the attempts at chemistry with Heston is a different story), although older fans might recognize that this isn't the first movie where a flight attendant is shown taking a plane to safety (Julie (1956) starred Doris Day in a noir, of all things). Zimbalist plays the unfortunate pilot that gets to spend half his time on a couch with his eyes closed to makeup, so there is that. Swanson, making her final film appearance before her death in 1983, certainly had to have a fine time here, since I imagine a role spent mostly in a chair talking about oneself would make anyone proud. It isn't exactly a parody of herself, but one can still keep their eyes open to wonder how this "interesting" pairing of famed star to alleged disaster movie came to be. Others have the energy of a broomstick when it comes to really sticking out, most notably with a bored-looking Andrews, or a bedridden Blair, or an oddly complacent Caesar to go with Storch (who might as well have been chosen out of a hat), and it is Loy who really seems to stand out best when it comes to pairing eccentricity to the level of cheese needed. At least there is some sort of inherent danger present here, since the chances of even one important character biting the dust is at 1% rather than the level done from the first film, although it hasn't meant the movie has increased its levels of thrill from before. One wonders exactly how the other two Airport movies turn out in raising (or keeping) the standards of disaster movie excitement, really. Airport 1975 (1974) isn't really an accomplishment in anything, but technically being better than its predecessor in being less boring has to account for something. If one desires a movie packed with ridicule and name actors, one might not go wrong here.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Best Years of Our Lives.

Review #1368: The Best Years of Our Lives.

Cast:
Myrna Loy (Milly Stephenson), Fredric March (Platoon Sergeant Al Stephenson), Dana Andrews (Captain Fred Derry), Teresa Wright (Peggy Stephenson), Virginia Mayo (Marie Derry), Cathy O'Donnell (Wilma Cameron), Hoagy Carmichael (Uncle Butch Engle), Harold Russell (Petty Officer 2nd Class Homer Parrish), Gladys George (Hortense Derry), Roman Bohnen (Pat Derry), Ray Collins (Mr. Milton), Minna Gombell (Mrs. Parrish), and Walter Baldwin (Mr. Parrish) Directed by William Wyler (#509 - Roman Holiday, #1022 - Jezebel, and #1360 - Mrs. Miniver)

Review:
The most enduring films can be the ones that strike us in their poignancy. Emotional honesty can be the best policy, particularly when it comes to a film basked in real life, about soldiers coming home from war. One prominent person returning from the war was director William Wyler. The year that he had directed Mrs. Miniver (1942) to roaring success (although he subsequently called it an "incomplete" film that only scratched the surface about war), he had volunteered to serve in the US Army Air Forces; he shot footage that was turned into two war documentaries, and there were risks to filming footage over actual bombing missions, with Wyler losing a significant part of his hearing due to exposure to loud noise. It should prove no surprise that Wyler was the director to be for a film about veterans arriving home from war, with numerous touches done by the director to make an authentic piece of grand naturalness, such as having the actors buy their own clothing and having sets constructed at life-size level (as opposed to camera-friendly larger sets). To go alongside Wyler was a producer with the capable hands in Samuel Goldwyn. He had gone from bustling garments to salesman to being in a film company partnership in 1913 with Jesse L. Lasky and others to turn plays into feature-length films. They would later merge with Paramount (alongside Adolph Zukor's Famous Players Film Company), although Goldwyn would later resign in 1916 over disagreements, so he went on to partner with the Selwyn brothers to make the enterprise known as Goldwyn Pictures (with that leading to him changing his name to Goldwyn after being known as Goldfish that he had changed from Gelbfisz). It ran for eight years before being acquired by Marcus Loew to merge with Metro and Mayer to form Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, although Goldwyn moved on to his own production company, and the company produced films for 36 years that would distributed through various studios such as United Artists and RKO. This was written by Robert E. Sherwood (four-time Pulitzer Prize winner and head of the Office of War Information from 1943 until the end of the war) as an adaptation of the novella Glory for Me (1945) by MacKinlay Kantor, which had been inspired by an article in Time Magazine.

One finds themselves wrapped right in with a film like this from the very first minutes, and it should prove no surprise that this film manages to accomplish this through capable storytelling, having a consistent and engaging focus for each of its veteran plots that weaves magnificently for 172 minutes, where one is absorbed in where the path may go next. March commands the film with great presence, a weary and dogged man that we can go along at any point, which matches Loy and her capable patience that makes for great established chemistry. Andrews pulls off a tremendous performance as well an evolving performance built on humility, with him and March both expressing trauma in their own respective ways (which is especially striking now as it was then). Wright proves fairly charming in a film wrapped in honest realism, where naivety and sentiment are behind for most if the film, while Mayo pulls off a conniving turn in her moments on screen, with the best highlight probably being the scene between the two when they are on a double date and talking to themselves privately. an Army instructor who had lost his hands due to a defective fuse when handling TNT) had been noticed by Wyler due to an Army film named Diary of a Sergeant, which was about rehabilitating veterans. He appeared in three total films, with Wyler having told him to finish his interrupted studies at Boston University. He pulls off his story with tremendous courage in a natural manner, where one is focused on him and his trouble like we would with others with more acting experience while not thinking about his hooks. Rounding out the cast is capable edge filling from singer-turned occasional actor Carmichael and an understanding O'Donnell performance. There is plenty that one can see when it comes to following natural pursuits in this film, one that eventually finds hope in the murkiness that could accompany such a hard readjusting that war can be. It isn't overly-sentimental or cynical to the point of irritation, finding an honest middle ground that lets these characters breathe for themselves. From the deep focus shots from Gregg Toland to highlights like the aircraft boneyard sequence, one will have an interesting time to spend with people that still seem relevant now.

One may not be surprised to know that this was a hit for its year with audiences and critics. It won seven Academy Awards, with Wyler, Sherwood, March, and Russell winning in respective categories of directing, screenplay, and acting while also winning for editing and original score. The night belonged to Goldwyn and Russell, with the former being awarded both an Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award along with Best Picture (his one win in eight nominations as producer for Best Picture) for this film while the latter became the first and only actor to receive two Academy Awards for the same performance, having been awarded an Honorary Academy Award (since the Academy apparently believed his Oscar hopes were slim). In any case, it is easy to see why this endures as one of the best films of its era, where one will find themselves satisfied with going through the time to see something like this and not finding their patience tested at any real point.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Laura.

Review #657: Laura.

Cast
Gene Tierney (Laura Hunt), Dana Andrews (Mark McPherson), Clifton Webb (Waldo Lydecker), Vincent Price (Shelby Carpenter), Judith Anderson (Ann Treadwell), and Dorothy Adams (Bessie Clary) Directed by Otto Preminger.

Review
I had bought this movie for $2.99 at a Blockbuster only three weeks ago, and I knew I would review this eventually, preferably before the year ended. And given the movie's 70th anniversary just passed last month, it makes good sense to review it now to start off another month. Clifton Webb is brilliant. I like how his facade of insults and strange charm actually serves the movie well. I like how Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews interact with each other, they seem to just have an instant connection and it makes an already pretty decent movie a little better. This is the earliest Vincent Price film I've seen him in, and for once it's not a horror film, it's refreshing to watch him play a supporting character who seems much more at home. The movie flows efficiently enough, lasting less than 90 minutes yet revealing details not all at once and letting you get slowly interested as the tale is weaved along. Film noirs are usually enjoyable, and this is no exception. It manages to leave you guessing while also being riveting.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.