Intruder in the Dust.

Review #1969: Intruder in the Dust.

Cast: 

Juano Hernandez (Lucas Beauchamp), David Brian (John Gavin Stevens), Claude Jarman Jr (Chick Mallison), Porter Hall (Nub Gowrie), Elizabeth Patterson (Miss Eunice Habersham), Will Geer (Sheriff Hampton), Charles Kemper (Crawford Gowrie), David Clarke (Vinson Gowrie), Elzie Emanuel (Aleck), Lela Bliss (Mrs. Mallison), and Harry Hayden (Mr. Mallison) Directed by Clarence Brown (#423 - A Woman of Affairs, #433 - Angels in the Outfield, #484 - Plymouth Adventure, #1351 - The Rains Came) 

Review: 

The real reason that people care about the film in any way besides the usual crime movie elements is Juano Hernandez. He was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico in 1896 (two years prior to the region being acquired by the United States). Before becoming an actor, he worked as a sailor, a circus entertainer, and a boxer. He entered vaudeville in the late 1920s, doing various shows in New York City that included a Broadway debut with Show Boat in 1927. He did work for radio on programs such as Cavalcade of America. Hernandez had gotten his start in film with who else but Oscar Micheaux with the 1932 film The Girl from Chicago, the first of three appearances in a Micheaux feature (there were a few uncredited appearances in films here and there as well, but Intruder in the Dust was his first starring role). Until his death in 1970 at the age of 74, Hernandez was a regular presence in film, such as The Breaking Point (1950) and Trial (1955), although this film has generally been the one that he is best recognized for, in part because of his standout performance that paved the way for more involving roles for black actors. The movie is an adaptation of the 1948 novel of the same name by William Faulkner (which like a variety of his works employed a stream of consciousness style of narration). Incidentally, in order to make money, Faulkner served as a screenwriter for various films from 1932 until the 1950s (which resulted in scripts such as the 1944 adaptation To Have and Have Not). Faulkner was only semi-involved with the production, but it was shot in Oxford, Mississippi (where he had lived most of his life); it should be noted that while most of the cast got to enjoy the hospitality of the University of Mississippi, Hernandez was housed separately at the residence of an undertaker. The choice of director was the one who pushed to do a film of the book in Clarence Brown, who had been raised in Tennessee, had known Faulkner for a time in the late 1930s when Brown was a key director for MGM. Of course, the film only got the greenlight when Dore Schary, fresh off being hired as vice president of production, backed doing it despite the objections of studio head Louis B. Meyer. Ben Maddow wrote the script for the film.

The movie was not a major hit at the time, perhaps because of its minimal promotion or being on the tail-end of "message movies" (imagine watching Pinky or Home of the Brave and then deciding to ditch Intruder in the Dust). But at least it had a fan in Faulkner, who said it was a "fine job." As an 87-minute feature, it works quite well in the art of creating a careful yarn that is part-whodunit and part-look into oneself. It isn't so much about finding the truth about who committed the crime as it is finding the truth in how one could get wrapped up in a possible lynching in the first place. It is a film that does not wrap itself in pretentions of being something that it is not, being a Southern tale with biting truth all the way through (which is why Brown, a craftsman of various successes, deserves credit for making sure the film was not done within a studio backlot), one that is firmly made in a time for one to experience themselves in levels of uncomfortableness (such as its use of the N-word, for example). Obstinate is probably the best way to describe the character played by Hernandez, which is to say he is firmly confident in each scene he commands the screen, which doesn't require copious amounts of dialogue to get the point across of how engaging he proves to be. He isn't just a symbol utilized for some sort of message of tolerance for the sake of it, as he is no servant to misplaced pride. It is funny too, because Brian and Jarman are actually pretty good too, acting in their own type of tolerance angle with Hernandez in nuance that makes it an uneasy coming-of-age film as well, where adult figures are not cut and dry in helping one find easy answers in the building blocks of life. Sure, books/films such as To Kill a Mockingbird ended up enduring more in the public consciousness when it came to children and the destruction of innocence and moral heroes over a decade after the release of the film (each involve an accuser's family being of ill repute). However, Intruder in the Dust and its portrayal of the struggle to understand an adult world that doesn't make much sense with its teen character in Jarman is not to be forgotten to go with Brian and his double-act of prejudices and principles. This goes for Patterson as well, quietly effective in elder sophistication without intrusions of unsubtlety. At any rate, this is a movie to watch for Hernandez and company as a whole, with his cool confidence providing the spark for a rivetingly uncomfortable crime movie that is more than meets than the eye in the parts that matter most. It endures after over seven decades because it shows us how much work one still has to do in the matter of understanding and pride, whether in a small town or beyond.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song.

I Married a Witch.

Review #1955: I Married a Witch.

Cast: 

Fredric March (Jonathan Wooley), Veronica Lake (Jennifer Wooley), Cecil Kellaway (Daniel), Susan Hayward (Estelle Masterson), Robert Benchley (Dr. Dudley White), Elizabeth Patterson (Margaret), Eily Malyon (Tabitha Wooley), Robert Warwick (J.B. Masterson), Mary Field (Nancy Wooley), Nora Cecil (Harriet Wooley), Ann Carter (Jennifer Wooley), and Aldrich Bowker (Justice of the Peace) Produced and Directed by René Clair.

Review: 

To start with a director, the middle is sometimes a pretty good idea. René Clair was a director of various films over four decades, born to a soap merchant in Paris in 1898. He served in World War I as an ambulance driver before becoming a journalist. His film career came to start because of persuasion by Damia (the stage name of singer Marie-Louise Damien) to visit the Gaumont film studio, which ended up resulting in him getting cast as a lead role in acting. He became an editor to a film magazine in 1922 before doing a bit of travelling to Belgium and subsequently becoming an assistant director to Jacques de Baroncelli. In 1924, he got his chance to direct with a couple of shorts in The Crazy Ray [Paris qui dort] and Entr'acte before his first feature film came with The Phantom of the Moulin Rouge [Le Fantôme du Moulin-Rouge] (1925). By the time the silent era was over, he developed a reputation as one of the most notable French names in cinema. His sound features would be an interesting case. Le Million (1931) and À nous la liberté (1931) were noted classics involving Paris, but the failure of The Last Billionaire [Le Dernier Milliardaire] (1934) was not only a flop but also the last film he did in France for years. A deal with Alexander Korda while in London led to a deal between the two to make films together, and Korda directed two films for him (The Ghost Goes West and Break the News). He then moved to America and directed a handful of feature films, which started with The Flame of New Orleans (1941). He did not return to France until 1947. He directed four films in America for various studios. His reputation dipped in light of the French New Wave deeming him a member of the establishment, with his last film being The Lace Wars [Les Fêtes galantes] (1965). Clair died at the age 82 in 1981.

 

The film is an adaptation of the book The Passionate Witch, which was being written by Thorne Smith (best known for his two ghost books in Topper) prior to his death in 1934 that saw Norman H. Matson finish it to see publication in 1941. Robert Pirosh and Marc Connelly are credited with the screenplay, but several writers were left uncredited for the dialogue, such as Clair, André Rigaud and Dalton Trumbo. Preston Sturges was originally the main producer of the film (it is him that brought Veronica Lake onto the project by convincing Clair and Paramount Pictures), but artistic differences with Clair led to him leaving the project with no screen credit. Incidentally, this film and Bell, Book and Candle (1958) would prove the inspiration for the television series Bewitched. There is something quite hypnotic that comes through with the chemistry of March and Lake, acting in their one and only feature together. Lake (a twenty-year old at the height of a career that saw her last three films be released in 1951, 1966, and 1970) proves quite bewitching in the right sort of timing, one who alternates between bubbly and later hopelessly smitten, which makes her ideal for a screwball supernatural film that rests on her shoulders for confidence and mostly succeeds; Clair later stated that she was a gifted actress who didn't believe she was gifted, and that statement seems to hold water now. March (25 years older than Lake, talk about contrasts) plays the straight and wavering role to general amusement without coming off as just the fool. They make a worthy pairing, which is probably an indicator of their talent given that they disliked working together (with names of "poseur" and "sexpot" being thrown around). Kellaway proves a solid conniving presence in support, a useful adversary in a silly film with plenty of goofs and magic to go around, while Hayward makes a solid icy foil of ambition. What can one expect from a film of witchcraft that sees wedding crashers and a flying car? It is offbeat, but it is consistently on time with amusement that never seems to cloy at the viewer in desperation or take itself too seriously. Instead, it uses peculiar charm and timing to make a film worth celebrating and viewing after eight decades because of the craftsmanship at hand to turn a bedeviling witch film into worthy entertainment for the young and old at heart. There may be no perfect answer to where to start with Rene Clair as a filmmaker, but this one is a solid place to consider.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: I know, not enough hints about what comes up next in a month for new voices. I got one hell of a spotlight coming with this one film from Korea...

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.