You and Me.

Review #2009: You and Me.

Cast:

Sylvia Sidney (Helen), George Raft (Joe Dennis), Barton MacLane (Mickey), Harry Carey (Mr. Morris), Roscoe Karns (Cuffy), George E. Stone (Patsy), Warren Hymer (Gimpy), Robert Cummings (Jim), Adrian Morris (Knucks), and Roger Gray (Bath House) Directed by Fritz Lang (#333 - M, #500 - Metropolis, #1365 - Scarlet Street, #1619 - Destiny)

Review: 

As the story goes, Norman Krasna wrote up a story at the request of Paramount Pictures that would have George Raft as a star. Krasna, for those who don't know, had gone from an ambition to do journalism to work his way into becoming a drama critic before moving onto playwrighting to then becoming a studio writer, first with Columbia before moving onto others such as Paramount. In fact, one of his ideas for a script would become the basis for what became Fury (1936) at MGM, with Krasna receiving a co-credit and a subsequent Oscar nomination. Important to the story of the film that eventually became a film is that Krasna wanted to direct it. However, Carole Lombard read the script and found it interesting (after plans had been done to have Raft star with Helen Burgess), which then made Paramount want someone to direct who, well, had experience directing, because Raft and Lombard wanted someone with experience. At any rate, Krasna was let go from directing, which was meant to go for Richard Wallace before it eventually landed to Fritz Lang, as asked by Sylvia Sidney (who had starred in Fury and You Only Live Once (1937), as directed by Lang), who was brought on to star with Raft. Lang later called the film his first flop ("deservedly") while saying that he had wanted to make a "didactic" film while having influence from Bertolt Brecht, a good friend of his that had made a theatre style called Lehrstück that basically was a play that would teach you something. Virginia Van Upp (a child actress-turned-script writer/reader/casting director/agent) is credited with the screenplay, although Jack Moffitt did uncredited work as well. As for Krasna, he would eventually get his chance to direct, albeit in the 1940s with Princess O'Rourke (1943), which he also wrote.

The movie is an odd curiosity, that much is certain. It is probably not too hard to see why the movie did not make much of an impact with audiences, because it was an odd film to have a guy like Raft star in a film with Lang that is more of a quirky crime film rather than straight drama. Of course, it is a decent movie, one that is fairly watchable if one has the patience for a film that is just a bit off center when it comes to teaching about just where crime really can go when it comes to a businessman who wants ex-cons to work for him to give them a second chance at things that might as well serve as more of a means to one's end in streetwise foundation. Oh, and there is a bit of a romance alongside things as well. Raft once described his ambitions when it came to acting as simply wanting "to be me", which basically meant he wasn't trying to just stick to roles similar to his presence-making turn in Scarface (1932), which led to a handful of suspensions from the studios he worked with, since he did not want really want to play heels (hell, he was a dancer before becoming an actor). As such, his charm is basically room temperature, which means he reacts to the situations around him with the mildest of reactions, as if the only thing that can faze him is being behind the ball when the final score is up (of which I mean the score of life). Besides, with a passionate Sidney (who appeared a handful of gangster films in the time period, with some exceptions) around, one finds that the movie moves along well enough already. Her well-meaning procession of foolhardy attempts to keep the one she loves and the secret she holds just as dear firmly away from each other, and she does the best to make the dilemma matter (making a case of "you dummie" into "oh, poor dummie"). Of course, the real highlight is a sequence near the end in trying to point out just how much one really could make when robbing a store when detailing all of the costs that come with the setup, which she handles with splendid timing that makes a simple "go home and think about coming to work on time tomorrow!" all the more fun. The supporting folks are mostly there to fill the chorus of would-be returnees to crime, which work in small bits of charm that mostly come from Hymer and his demeanor. Maybe there is a sense of irony to see Carey, an actor known for his rugged frame actor (generally seen in Westerns) playing an owner who likes to hire parolees. At any rate, it is an strange curiosity, one that isn't merely a crime drama or a straight romance because of the fact that it likes to dwell on the absurdity that comes with trying to find where the real game is at when it comes to something as simple as "you and me". As a whole, it may stretch itself a bit thin for 94 minutes, but it is firmly watchable and certainly something that should be considered for viewing among the curiosities that made the career of Fritz Lang all the more involving for what he did end up bringing to the screen in vision.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Red River.

Review #1773: Red River.

Cast: 

John Wayne (Thomas Dunson), Montgomery Clift (Matthew "Matt" Garth), Walter Brennan (Nadine Groot), Joanne Dru (Tess Millay), Coleen Gray (Fen), Harry Carey (Mr. Melville), John Ireland (Cherry Valance), Noah Beery Jr. (Buster McGee), Harry Carey Jr. (Dan Latimer), (Two Jaw Quo), and Paul Fix (Teeler Yacey) Produced and Directed by Howard Hawks (#951 - The Big Sleep, #1352 - His Girl Friday, #1399 - Rio Bravo, #1687 - O. Henry's Full House), with co-direction by Arthur Rosson.

Review: 

I'm sure we all know the name Howard Hawks as a director. At least, I would hope so, in part because how diverse he managed to be within his filmmaking that spanned four decades within all of the major studios and multiple genres. He did films in his particular way that inspired plenty of future directors even after his death. Red River (1948) was the first of five Westerns that he would direct in his career, and it also would be the first of five films Hawks directed with Wayne as star. The film is adapted from Blazing Guns on the Chisholm Trail, a 1946 novel originally serialized in The Saturday Evening Post (albeit without the "Blazing Guns" part of the title, which was added for the hardcover publication) that was written by Borden Chase. When Chase chafed at changes to the story (one that resembled Mutiny on the Bounty, albeit with a fictionalized angle at a cattle drive), Charles Schnee was brought in to do the screenplay as well, with the two not actually writing together. Chase would write a variety of screenplays and stories, such as with Winchester '73 while Schnee would write and produce for films such as The Bad and the Beautiful. By this point in time, Arthur Rosson had moved from featuredirecting to do work as a second unit director, most notably for Cecil B. DeMille, but for this film he was given credit as a co-director, as he had shot some of the cattle drive and action sequences (as such, he gets credit here as a director, instead of using that weasely "co-director" label that is still present with certain animated features). The film was shot in 1946 but was delayed for two years, with a great deal of editing done by Christian Nyby. Somehow, right as the film had premiered in 1948, Howard Hughes claimed similarities between this film and The Outlaw (1943) with its climatic fight, and you may remember Hawks had been fired from the earlier film. This resulted in a few seconds being cut out in order to fast-track the film for the studio rather than deal with a frivolous lawsuit they would have won handily over Hughes and the content of his alleged Western. There existed two different versions of the film: The pre-release cut lasted 133 minutes while featuring shots of a diary for transition shots; the cuts forced by the lawsuit resulted in a 127 minute film (Hawks also commissioned Brennan to provide a voiceover instead of those shots). When interviewed late in his life (specifically an interview with Peter Bogdanovich), Hawks stated his preference for the shorter version, but it has not stopped the debate over just what version seems better.

You have to remember that Wayne is a movie star bigger than life, an icon that certainly stood differently in presence depending on just who was directing him. The lasting quote about him in this film comes from long-time collaborator John Ford, who famously stated (whether facetious or not) that he didn't know he could act. Well, Wayne does what he does in terms of handling the frontier front and center, only this time with an imitation of Captain Ahab with a granite foundation that works quite well with a look at a different Wayne (if only slightly): middle age. 1948 was the first year folks could see Clift on screen as an actor (he had starred on the stage for over ten years), with this coming out after The Search. He does quite well here, standing well against Wayne in conviction in not getting lost within such presence. You see the conflict within him about the measure of what being a man is, especially after being part of a makeshift family only to leave and comeback from it. It may be a Western, but it also could be thought of as a family tragedy too, since this involves the inevitability of what has to happen between father and son when it comes to being a man. Brennan accompanies the two with the expected supporting presence that matches with both with resourceful chemistry (as would be expected from a semi-regular on Hawks films). When Dru finally comes onto the screen, she brings an added edge needed when either paired with Clift or Wayne in a scene (the best one is the first though, involving her mood during a fight before casually taking an arrow to the arm). The rest of the character presences make their parts count well, whether that means a casual Ireland or the various associates that stand starkly to the granite-laced Wayne in terms of drive, which only makes the build to the climax all the more interesting. Apparently, Clift didn't care much for the overall conclusion (or his overall acting), which is strange, because it actually is quite interesting in sticking out from just being a fistfight. It doesn't seem like the "farce" that he thought it was in my mind - besides, Chase's story has one of them die, and we are talking about a film involving both family conflict amid a clash of relentless drive and youth along with moving cattle (Hawks and Chase did not exactly get along anyway). It seems quite foolish to learn a lesson right before they die anyway, and the film is called "Red River", not "Showdown at Red River", so there. The movie isn't perfect, but the ending isn't a letdown in the long run. It is an odyssey, pure and simple.

At any rate, Hawks created a worthy epic that isn't weighed down by needing a large scope or folks to try and reach over the presence of Wayne, because he has the skills of editor Nyby to go with Dimitri Tiomkin as a driving music composer and Russell Harlan in sweeping cinematographer to go with a dynamic cast that does what is needed in worthy entertainment. It is the classic imperfect Western for its time, one that moves steadfast for what Hawks wants to display about the nature of being a man that couldn't have been done by anyone else but him. In that sense, he did it exactly to his standards.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars

Duel in the Sun.

Review #1369: Duel in the Sun.

Cast: 
Jennifer Jones (Pearl Chavez), Joseph Cotten (Jesse McCanles), Gregory Peck (Lewton McCanles), Lionel Barrymore (Senator Jackson McCanles), Lillian Gish (Laura Belle McCanles), Walter Huston (Jubal Crabbe, The Sinkiller), Charles Bickford (Sam Pierce), Harry Carey (Lem Smoot), Charles Dingle (Sheriff Hardy), Herbert Marshall (Scott Chavez), Sidney Blackmer (The "Lover" of Mrs. Chavez), and Butterfly McQueen (Vashti) Directed by King Vidor (#987 - Show People and #1015 - Bardelys the Magnificent)

Review:
Sometimes one can really sense the grip of a producer when it comes to how a film comes out. One such producer in terms of presence is David O. Selznick. He was the son of silent movie producer distributor Lewis J. Selznick, who had established film companies at important locations in film locations: World Film Company in Fort Lee, New Jersey and Selznick Pictures in California. At the age of 24 in 1926, the young Selznick went to Hollywood, finding his way to assistant story editor at MGM, and he moved his way around in the prevailing years from MGM to Paramount to RKO, becoming Head of Production in 1931 before going back to MGM in 1933, complete with a production unit for himself much in the same way Irving Thalberg (ill in health at the time) had. However, he desired to have his own studio for production, so he found a backlot and studio to lease out through RKO. He produced numerous films from 1936 to 1940 (distributed through different studios), such as A Star is Born (1937), Nothing Sacred (1937) and his two crowning achievements in Gone with the Wind (1939) and Rebecca (1940), both winning Best Picture for their respective years. He dissolved the company in 1940, taking some time off from production and loaning out some of his contracted stars and directors to other studios. In 1943 and 1946, he formed Vanguard Films and Selznick Releasing Organization to return to production and distribution, respectively. He attempted hard to try and top the successes of the past he had, with mixed results, later stating that he wasted his life trying to outdo it, and he stopped his independent productions in 1948, going on to co-produce films with other makers, with his last venture being the star-crossed A Farewell to Arms (1957). When it comes to this film, Selznick spared no expense in terms of budget and turbulent production from start to finish. Some films may have an uncredited director when it comes to disagreements with a producer, but this is one that has six un-credited directors: Josef von Sternberg, William Dieterle, William Cameron Menzies, Otto Brower, Sidney Franklin, and Selznick himself, since Vidor and the producer had disagreements that led to him walking out (having three credited cinematographers and four editors helps too). Vidor was a respected filmmaker before and after this film, debuting as a director at the age of 19 in 1913 with short films before moving to features in 1919 before finding a contract with Goldwyn Pictures (later MGM) and eventual success with movies such as The Big Parade (1925) and The Crowd (1928). He directed numerous films over the prevailing decades (slowing down after the 1950s), with his last work being a documentary with The Metaphor (1980), released two years before his death in 1982 at the age of 88. Although he did not win an Academy Award on five nominations in his career, he received an Academy Honorary Award in 1979 to recognize his achievements as an innovator. This was a film based off the novel of the same name by Niven Busch, who had pitched the film to RKO for his wife Teresa Wright to star in, but Wright's pregnancy nixed that idea. One pairing that was thought of prior to production was John Wayne and Hedy Lamarr before Jones (who had risen to quick stardom and had won an Academy Award at the age of 25) was brought in, with Selznick (whose affair with Jones later led to divorce and marriage) was credited for writing the film alongside Oliver H.P. Garrett and Ben Hecht. The film cost over $5 million to make (owing to expensive Technicolor film stock, location shooting and multiple re-shoots) and $2 million to advertise (a hefty sum for the time), with the film receiving a great deal of infamy for its excess in terms of its excess in romantic content, with one derisive joke calling the film "Lust in the Dust", with the film having its troubles with the Hays Code (with one sequence involving a dance by Jones being deleted).

This is definitely the kind of film that is best at being as ridiculous as it wants, a melodrama that fits all the molds of the modern age in how relentless it is in being a soap opera with all the trimmings (despite some dated material involving race) and competent acting to make this a silly treat that exceeds the senses that surely stands out for its decade, completed with a lengthy run-time of 145 minute (at least with the overture, anyway). It certainly isn't a great Western or romance by any means, but one will get some sort of enjoyment at an attempt at making an epic, which one should guess right away from its opening narration from Orson Welles, since I guess having the main character's fate being death really needs to be told to us from the get go, which is odd since the novel apparently ended with the main character living. Jones (who would later marry Selznick in 1949) shines in gritty detail, a woundedly obsessed role that exudes passion in the ways that matter in terms of romance, although it is actually the showdown sequence at the end that is her shining moment, complete with her own stunt work in the rocks with scrapes and cuts. Cotten is quiet yet fairly effective as the most level-headed one of the group, which goes okay despite not having as much screen-time in the second half. Peck is certainly electrifying in his rough role, full of energy like a beast of burden (having arrived from stage to film in 1944 to quick stardom), one that demands your attention as the bad man you love to hate (as is the case in plenty of interesting Westerns). Barrymore shines as an old battle axe, spending most of his time commanding coarse presence without needing to get out of his wheelchair (which he primarily used due to having an unhealed broken hip and arthritis since 1938). Gish (who earned her one and only Academy Award nomination for this film) shines with honesty in a role that demands sincerity. Huston proves worthy to view in his fiery brimstone approach to trying to rid the dangers of sin. If one is desiring of a different kind of Western, one may find something fitting with a weird film like this, where its romantic gestures having a strange lasting power to them. The film, controversy be darned, managed to break just even with audiences, who were probably tempted to see it one way or the other when it came to the furor it could inspire from the powers that be with decency (for the time, at least). One notable person who found this film influential was Martin Scorsese, which he saw when he was four years old. Sure, the film doesn't quite live up to Gone with the Wind, but the undeniable truth is that both films have a lasting appeal to them, with this being one to see in Selznick's power of obsession on display, a bold piece of escapism for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.