Compulsion (1959).

Review #2052: Compulsion.

Cast: 

Orson Welles (Jonathan Wilk), Diane Varsi (Ruth Evans), Dean Stockwell (Judd Steiner), Bradford Dillman (Artie Strauss), E.G. Marshall (District Attorney Harold Horn), Martin Milner (Sid Brooks), Richard Anderson (Max Steiner), Robert F. Simon (Police Lt. Johnson), Edward Binns (Tom Daly), Robert Burton (Charles Straus), Wilton Graff (Mr. Steiner), and Louise Lorimer (Strauss's mother) Directed by Richard Fleischer (#453 - Soylent Green, #460 - Doctor Dolittle, #624 - Conan the Destroyer, #829 - Red Sonja, #870 - The Narrow Margin, and #881 - Fantastic Voyage)

Review: 

If you had a career that involved being awarded an Academy Award for your work as a director and included doing plenty of genres in multiple decades of film work, one would probably think that such a name would be fondly remembered for their work. But alas, it isn't always the case to give every director their due, as is the case with Richard Fleischer. Fleischer had directed a handful of films from his debut in 1946 for RKO Radio Pictures (along with the documentary Design for Death, which as producer earned him an Oscar in 1947), which resulted in a few noted releases such as The Narrow Margin (1952). But he shifted his focus to work with other studios as well, such The Happy Time (1952) being for Columbia or Disney with 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). But with Violent Sunday (1955), the resulting success led to a contract to direct further with 20th Century Fox. With some exceptions, he would direct there for the next fifteen years, and one of his most noted films made there was Compulsion. It is an adaptation of the 1956 novel of the same name by Meyer Levin (who studied at the University of Chicago in the 1920s while also becoming a news reporter at the same time) that was inspired by the real-life events of what was called "the trial of the century" with the court case of Nathan Leopold Jr and Richard Loeb (two students at the University of Chicago) that saw them put on trial for murder after they tried to commit the "perfect crime" in the murder of Bobby Franks (with a chisel and gag), with one of them having been a firm believer in the concept introduced by Frederick Nietzsche in the "superman".  And yes, the first inkling in catching them involved finding a certain pair of glasses near the scene of the crime. Clarence Darrow, hired to defend the two, went for a criticism of capital punishment in terms of what kind of justice it was that resulted in Leopold and Loeb be sentenced to life in prison rather than death (he had them plead guilty to start, so that he could play this out to a judge rather than leave it to a jury). One year after his famed defense, Darrow would be asked to serve on the side of John T. Scopes for a trial involving evolution (deliberately staged for publicity), which would inspire its own play and film. Incidentally, the Leopold and Loeb case also inspired Rope, a 1929 play turned into a film in 1948 by Alfred Hitchcock. In 1958, the surviving Leopold (Loeb was killed in prison in 1936) was granted parole. A year later, he tried to sue the filmmakers on various counts that included "defamation" from the book that tried to block production of the film; incidentally, when he had written and published his own memoir in 1958, it only talked the aftermath of the crime with no childhood mentions or the crime itself; his response to Levin when asked about writing a book together was to ask if Levin would want to help write the memoir, which obviously Levin rejected (incidentally, the film doesn't show the actual killing portrayed on screen). The lawsuit went on for over a decade, for which I'm sure you can see how Leopold lost the lawsuit. 

The novel had been turned into a play that ran from 1957 to 1958 that had Dean Stockwell and Roddy McDowall star in the lead two roles. It is a devilishly good time in terms of the queasy murder-thriller that shows one thing above all else: give a rich person time and ideas and they could go crazy. Well, that isn't really the goal by Fleischer, because he really aims to make a solid gripping film with no rest for showing the wicked in all of their pathetic habits that would feel right at home for future films such as In Cold Blood (1967) when it comes to brutal turning-the-screws atmosphere. Of course, the fact that the film was done in CinemaScope probably helps in that regard, giving a scope to such a murky feeling where one is watching Dillman and Stockwell try to go along their way in the aftermath of such brutality to, well, no avail. Welles is given top billing because, well, who says no to Welles? Actually, he only appears after the first hour of a 103-minute film, and I'm sure you know that he will have at least ten minutes to employ a long monologue meant to evoke the actual Darrow and his defense at the trial, which if you did not know, was a closing argument that lasted twelve hours. Apparently, Welles was a grouch for the time he was on set because he wasn't asked to direct the film, which resulted in tantrums on set (the final speech needed a bit of cobbling together because he had to leave right afterwards). Regardless of all that, he does rein in a worthy performance fit for what the film requires as the knight of eloquence that does not overstate the matter at hand. It is about the nature of justice that matters rather than his obviously guilty clients. Of course, Dillman and Stockwell are no slouches when tasked to hold their part of the film, with the latter in particular being a tremendous presence. Stockwell has the challenge of presenting a killer with a varying level of brilliance (as one expects when basically playing Leopold, an intellectual and ornithologist) that is fascinating to view regardless of the amount of pity that can be driven from such a situation. Dillman maneuvers his way around with pronounced confidence that obviously believes in the acts of superior men getting to commit such wanton acts without remorse that makes for such a watchable pair of scoundrels. They make for quite the pair in terms of such deluded belief in superiority that they pretty much overshadow the others, although the recognizable nature of the faces (except for Varsi, who is mostly known for her Academy Award-nominated debut in Peyton Place that appeared in eleven total films) that includes the sharp timing of Marshall or the attempts at making the Milner-Varsi dynamic anything other than just a footnote (look I don't really think about them in a film that sounds more like a Columbo prototype, so...). At any rate, what matters most in such queasy drama is the conviction laid out by Fleischer and company to make the drama matter as much as possible when it comes to making a dark act of murder come out to such a useful piece of fascination. It ranks well among the films of Fleischer and his varying skills for whatever genre he was sent out to do that makes for a useful film to watch today, whether one has a compulsion for the classics or not.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Verdict (1982).

Review #1935: The Verdict.

Cast: 

Paul Newman (Frank Galvin), Charlotte Rampling (Laura Fischer), Jack Warden (Mickey Morrissey), James Mason (Ed Concannon), Milo O'Shea (Judge Hoyle), Lindsay Crouse (Kaitlin Costello Price), Edward Binns (Bishop Brophy), Julie Bovasso (Maureen Rooney), Roxanne Hart (Sally Doneghy), James Handy (Kevin Doneghy), Wesley Addy (Dr. Towler), Joe Seneca (Dr. Thompson), and Lewis J. Stadlen (Dr. Gruber) Directed by Sidney Lumet (#035 - 12 Angry Men, #036 - Network, #404 - The Anderson Tapes, #1065 - Deathtrap, #1446 - Murder on the Orient Express, #1450 - Dog Day Afternoon, #1545 - Before the Devil Knows You're Dead)

Review: 

A combination of a director known for his crafting of actors into diverting character dramas and a powerhouse star and script surely would work out for a fair classic, you might say. The movie is an adaptation of the 1980 novel of the same name by Barry Reed. In addition to writing for American Bar Association Journal alongside novels, Reed had his own legal practice in Boston, Massachusetts and he had a reputation for specializing in medical malpractice, personal injury, and civil litigation. Interestingly, one of his proteges was Jan Schlichtmann, a lawyer noted for his own case that became a book and film about a lawyer taking on a big name (in this case, two companies sued for leukemia deaths), which you might know as A Civil Action (1998). Right before publication of The Verdict, producers David Brown and Richard D. Zanuck purchased the film rights. The two hired David Mamet to write a screenplay based on the book. By this point, Mamet was noted for his array of off-Broadway plays in the 1970s such as American Buffalo. The first produced screenplay by Mamet was the 1981 adaptation of The Postman Always Rings Twice. It shouldn't be too surprising that there were numerous choices for directors and main stars: James Bridges was the initial choice for director and Robert Redford was the first-pick star, but when Bridges became busy with Urban Cowboy (1980), the producers went with Arthur Hiller as the potential director...before a disagreement with Mamet saw him depart (of course, Zanuck wasn't particularly big on the ending of the original script, which ended before the jury came back with the verdict). Jay Presson Allen came in to try and deliver a new script, and when Bridges had time at last to do a project, he also seeped his fingers into writing for the film, but it all went for naught when Redford and Bridges had disagreements over the nature of the main character (Redford irked at the idea of playing the character with the flaws as written). Not long after, Lumet was asked to do the film, and he elected to go back to the original Mamet script, complete with Paul Newman as star. 

Admittedly, the legal aspects of the film aren't completely on the level, as I suspected from a cursory bout of research. For the record, if you are suing a hospital and they offer you a settlement, your lawyer cannot simply reject the offer (without even consulting the clients), and the opposing council doesn't go around telling the client about offers either. But I suppose if you can buy a film that hinges its big finish on having the jurors challenge their doubts in their beliefs, institutions, and the law itself, you can do almost anything. But the movie as a whole is pleasant as a stone-cold thriller of possible redemption as baptism by fire, utilizing its 129 minutes to general effectiveness. It relies heavily on the performance of Newman, in his only appearance in a feature film with Lumet as director. He pulls off a great performance, plundering the depths of redemption in an understated and powerful manner that never blusters or hits a false note from start to finish, one where burying the case is not the end of his own road. Sure, one could put the highlight as the last scene in the courthouse or even the final shot with a rejected call, but the best one might be a sequence where Newman is taking photos of his client (a comatose victim) before he processes what he is doing when the photo is developing and snaps himself to action without having to say a word. It isn't so much as chewing the scenery as it is just a case of a damn good actor being accompanied by pretty decent support in the cast besides him. Rampling makes a quality counterpart to Newman, since each are wayward spirits to begin with, and the last sequence where they share time together (i.e., not just stare at each other) is quite effective in its shock, while Warden accompanies Newman as the long-suffering lawyer pal in useful character presence. Mason (in the twilight of his career) is the ideal foil to Newman, bringing dignity to a role of slime, which goes just as well for O'Shea in steely impatience. As a whole, it is more of a thriller of the lead character rather than a straight-boiled court drama, which results in a slow burn experience that ultimately shows Lumet and Newman in their proper environments: rehearsed excellence, one that has endured well for itself after four decades. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Patton.

Review #1434: Patton.

Cast: 
George C. Scott (Major General George S. Patton), Karl Malden (Major General Omar N. Bradley), Michael Bates (General Bernard Montgomery), Edward Binns (Lieutenant General Walter Bedell Smith), Lawrence Dobkin (Colonel Gaston Bell), John Doucette (Major General Lucian Truscott), James Edwards (Sergeant William George Meeks), Frank Latimore (Lieutenant Colonel Henry Davenport), Richard Münch (Colonel General Alfred Jodl), Morgan Paull (Captain Richard N. Jenson), Siegfried Rauch (Captain Oskar Steiger), and Paul Stevens (Lieutenant Colonel Charles R. Codman) Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner (#347 - Planet of the Apes and #580 - The Best Man)

Review: 
Acting changes the inner spirit. It's fulfilling, but psychologically very costly. You can't steal enough money in a lifetime to make up for the damage. I'm ashamed for the bitterness it created in me, but it exists. Even when you're successful it's hard to rise above it. It's like a growth.


Perhaps it is not too hyperbolic to describe this as the military biopic to try and end all military biopics. The director responsible for such a grand portrait of a man bigger than life was Franklin J. Schaffner, a veteran of World War II for the Navy that worked for over a decade in television with programs such as such as Studio One and Playhouse 90 before adding films to his repertoire with The Stripper (1963). This film proved to be the pinnacle of his career, although he had (and would make) other noted films such as The Best Man (1964), Planet of the Apes (1968) and Papillon (1973). Adapting the larger-than-life general to the screen was a long process, not helped by being denied access to Patton's diaries. Francis Ford Coppola and Edmund H. North would write the script based on two works: Patton: Ordeal and Triumph from Ladislas Farago (a Hungarian military historian and journalist) and A Soldier's Story, written by Omar Bradley (General of the Army and consultant for the film). At the helm as star was George C. Scott, who made a name for himself on stage, television and supporting roles in film starting in 1958 that eventually grew into further prominent work by the time the 1960s had ended. He had acquired the part after Rod Steiger rejected it (he stated that he did not want to glorify war, but he subsequently called it his "dumbest career move"), with this serving as the role Scott became best known for in his career, and he would later return to the role in a TV movie The Last Days of Patton sixteen years later. Schaffner, Coppola, North, and Patton would each win an Academy Award for their work (although Scott would famously refuse to accept the award, having objected to the voting process and competition for actors as a whole).

One thing that can immediately be said about the film that applies to Scott as well is the fact that neither ever seem to flinch for 170 minutes. Whether one sees an enigma with the person portrayed on screen or not, one cannot deny the gripping performance from Scott, who is relentless in conviction and stature that springs right from the opening scene with the speech to the Third Army, standing right by an American flag. The sequence (which utilized statements from the actual speech, albeit toned down in language) is a magnificent way to open the film, filled with no-nonsense bluster and rallying spirit for a war movie made in the midst of another war (perhaps one can infer something from this, as was the case with the other hit war film in M*A*S*H, which was beaten in the race for Best Picture at the Academy Awards that year). One doesn't think about the other members of the cast much when it comes to a film like this, nor do they really think about all the history leading up to Patton being where he is as the man of the moment - one might even believe that Scott and Patton have melded together to make for one encompassing performance that we care for in all of its imperfect perfections. Probably the one person who makes for substantial screen time to follow alongside Scott is Malden, who makes for a reserved but dignified contrast when he shows up from time to time, while the others fill their parts with care that don't fall prey to the contrivances that can sometimes pop up in a biopic (of course this is a movie that covers Patton from just 1943-1945). The battle sequences certainly work out in terms of scope, no doubt aided by being filmed in 65mm Dimension 150 and Jerry Goldsmith's sweeping musical score. While a film will never completely tell the tale of any one man (particularly one as colorful as Patton), this one manages to draw a composed picture on its subject with bombast and precision, which work out most of the time as an enigmatic but involving epic for the era.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: 12 Angry Men.

Review #035: 12 Angry Men.

Cast
1. Martin Balsam
2. John Fielder
3. Lee J. Cobb
4. E. G. Marshall
5. Jack Klugman
6. Edward Binns
7. Jack Warden
8. Henry Fonda
9. Joseph Sweeny
10. Ed Begley
11. George Voskovec
12. Robert Webber
Directed by Sidney Lumet.

Review
Review to be updated at a later point in time - hopefully by the end of 2018 or 2019. 

This movie is the first covered of the 1950s on this show, and it is just pure greatness. It shows a lot of talent all in one set (And for a movie that took less then three weeks and $325,000 to make). Henry Fonda is the big star, and he is the best person in this movie. I like how it seems you are the Juror, you are feeling like you are one of them. The theories are deconstructed over time as the tension builds until the conclusion. It shows a lot of heart, and it can and will, make your heart beat.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.