The Black Swan.

Review #2548: The Black Swan.

Cast: 

Tyrone Power (Jamie Waring), Maureen O'Hara (Lady Margaret Denby), Laird Cregar (Sir Henry Morgan), Thomas Mitchell (Tom Blue), George Sanders (Captain Billy Leech), Anthony Quinn (Wogan), with George Zucco (Lord Denby), and Edward Ashley (Roger Ingram) Directed by Henry King (#1687 - O. Henry's Full House, #2223 - The Gunfighter)

Review: 

It probably helps to cover a swashbuckler movie every now and then, even one that basically freewheels around its alleged "source material". Taking the title of the 1932 novel of the same name by Rafael Sabatini (you might remember that he previously had his novels adapted into films with Captain Blood [1922/1935], and Bardelys the Magnificent [1926]), the movie had a screenplay by Ben Hecht and Seton I. Miller. At the helm for direction was the solidly reliable Henry King, fresh in the middle of directing Remember the Day (1941) and The Song of Bernadette (1943). This was one of three films with O'Hara (who had joined Fox with How Green Was My Valley [1941] as among the leading cast, which included To the Shores of Tripoli and Ten Gentlemen from West Point. She had meant to co-star with Power with Son of Fury: The Story of Benjamin Blake (1942) but dropped out due to illness. With this film, she noted her happiness in the film, once stating it was "everything you could want in a lavish pirate picture." The movie was a fairly decent hit at the time, and Leon Shamroy won an Academy Award for his cinematography (shot in color*) on the film.  

You've got a 1600s setting with a few interesting effects and shots to go along with a fairly efficient 85-minute runtime that freewheels with history (the real Morgan, a privateer and plantation owner who was knighted in 1674, served on the Assembly of Jamaica and also was a Lieutenant Governor and occasional interim governor before he died in 1688, as one does when living to his fifties) for a fairly decent effort. I don't think it's exactly on the level of say, The Mark of Zorro (1940) when it comes to a slapdash Power film, but it's still a pretty amiable time, mainly because you see enough enthusiasm from its main cast. It's the "love, gold, and adventure!" movie to swallow up like it was cotton candy, filled with hokum in the "loving care" type - you either have that patience or don't. With the war effort booming in 1942, Power enlisted in the Marine Corps in August, with Crash Dive being the last one before he went through training/combat missions until he returned in 1946. He has the panache required to just step into the swashbuckling type (debate all you want who managed it better between him and, say, Errol Flynn*) with general ease of charm without looking like he wants to be somewhere else. The leading ladies can change, the staging might differ, but you can still see the commitment present in the swagger to just go through the motions and not make it sound tired. O'Hara doesn't exactly as much to really grab onto for the character besides the usual swooning type for adventures where one sees the adventurer face the odds and beat them and, well, you know what happens. But at least she is game for matching with Power with fiery grace and got onto better things. Cregar (a stage-turned-film actor that got his supporting roles in 1941 and was going to be a leading man before his untimely death in 1944) hams it up with captivating warmth that probably captures the film more than anybody, and that includes the credible attempts from adversaries in Sanders and Quinn. It's a sword-splitting movie that looks decent enough, has a few credible moments in swinging around without swinging completely for the fences that doesn't dawdle - what more could you ask for? For a 1940s movie, an average movie of its time is still as desirable as ever.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*Remember that folks could win for cinematography in black-and-white and in color for several years.

*At least people don't call Power a creep.

The Gunfighter.

Review #2223: The Gunfighter.

Cast: 

Gregory Peck (Jimmy Ringo), Helen Westcott (Peggy Walsh), Millard Mitchell (Marshal Mark Strett), Jean Parker (Molly), Karl Malden (Mac), Skip Homeier (Hunt Bromley), Anthony Ross (Deputy Charlie Norris), Verna Felton (Mrs. August Pennyfeather), Ellen Corby (Mrs. Devlin), and Richard Jaeckel (Eddie) Directed by Henry King (#1687 - O Henry's Full House)

Review: 

On July 14, 1882, a body was found in the Arizona Territory with a gunshot in the head. It was revealed to be an outlaw associated with various cowboys in Cochise County along with Tombstone and people such as Wyatt Earp. It was none other than Johnny Ringo. The real Ringo was a pretty cut-rate killer, but the Ringo for this film is vastly different, and for good reason. The film was written by playwright/sometimes screenwriter William Bowers and William Sellers, as based on a story by Bowers and Andre de Toth (a steady director in his own right, such as Westerns), albeit with uncredited contributions by producer Nunnally Johnson (a playwright in addition to producing and writing films, most notably The Grapes of Wrath [1940]) and apparently Roger Corman. Corman, who worked as a messenger at Fox, was so annoyed at his suggestions being used without getting credit, soon left Fox for study at the University of Oxford. Anyway, this was the first film done in the 1950s for its director King, who had been working consistently since 1915 in a variety of genres that spanned from the original Stella Dallas (1925) to Twelve O'Clock High (1949). Fans of the Western will recognize parts of The Shootist (1976) that sure seem to have been inspired by this film (an old, famed outlaw coming into a town and seeing familiar faces). John Wayne, who starred in that film, apparently had a motivation to want the lead part for that film because of the fact that he had rejected starring in this film because of its initial starting point being at Columbia Pictures (as headlined by an executive he hated). Incidentally, Bowers stated that he had wrote the film with Wayne in mind but when approached by Wayne, he rejected selling it to him in favor of shipping it elsewhere (which resulted in more money but also the enmity of Wayne). 

There are plenty of Westerns about people with the hands to match with anyone when it comes to gunfighting, but you don't get as many in terms of interesting looks at the people who wish the attention would just end. It starts, interestingly enough, with a gunfighter shooting someone in defense in which we don't see their hands when it comes to that fateful gunshot. It is an efficient 85-minute movie that feels like it is occurring in real time when it comes to the tension that lies within trying to stay in town when others only a tool of confrontation. The choices matter most of all in this Western rather than grand landscapes or big towns when one man arriving into town is an event on itself. Sure, one could wonder what the film would be with Wayne, but Peck (drabbed in a period-looking moustache and all) erases those doubts with an efficient performance that is imposing to go along with a semblance of pity that reminds one of seeing an old alley cat; it may not surprise you to know that this was one of six films Peck did with King. He does so well with the film that he sells that fateful final scene (establishing just who really shot who to death) with all of the punch it is worth in expressing the "known gunfighter". Mitchell provides the ideal side of the coin in terms of reformed men with just as much dignity when matched with Peck for a solidly reliable performance. The rest of the cast is pretty good, with Malden being the most enjoyable in terms of character presence (he was in the original Broadway production of A Streetcar Named Desire), although Homeier's smarmy dandy presence is a suitable antithesis to Peck when it comes to opportunism that can be slapped away just as easily. The tension comes not in wondering if you are going to get some sort of, well, gunfight but instead comes from the tension of wondering just what will happen to our lead in his quest for some sort of fulfillment that doesn't involve a gun. It sure is packed with elements that make one seemed as trapped in a manner that might make you think you were in a noir. In the end, there is plenty to enjoy in terms of a solid cast and atmosphere that executes on a level worth every moment in the art of choices made through a gun in a frontier starved for attention. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

O. Henry's Full House.

Review #1687: O. Henry's Full House.

Cast:

Charles Laughton (Soapy, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Dale Robertson (Barney Woods, segment "The Clarion Call"), Anne Baxter (Joanna Goodwin, segment "The Last Leaf"), Fred Allen (Samuel Brown, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Jeanne Crain (Della Young, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), Marilyn Monroe (Streetwalker, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Richard Widmark (Johnny Kernan, segment "The Clarion Call"), Jean Peters (Susan Goodwin, segment "The Last Leaf"), Oscar Levant (William Smith, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Farley Granger (Jim Young, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), David Wayne (Horace, segment "The Cop and the Anthem"), Richard Rober (Chief of Detectives, segment "The Clarion Call"), Gregory Ratoff (Behrman, segment "The Last Leaf"), Lee Aaker (J.B. Dorset, segment "The Ransom of Red Chief"), Richard Garrick (Doctor, segment "The Last Leaf"), Fred Kelsey (Mr. Schultz / Santa Claus, segment "The Gift of the Magi"), with John Steinbeck as narrator. Directed by Henry Koster (#1607 - Harvey), Henry Hathaway (#1314 - True Grit), Jean Negulesco (#1380 - Phone Call from a Stranger), Howard Hawks (#951 - The Big Sleep, #1352 - His Girl Friday, and #1399 - Rio Bravo), and Henry King.

Review: 

There have been a number of anthology movies to have come around the corner in film, whether in horror, a unified theme (such as a city like Tales of Manhattan (1942), released by 20th Century Fox), or in trying to bring short stories to the screen, and O. Henry's Full House is merely in the middle of a regular era for this kind of movie, with one early example being If I Had a Million (1932). Another example is Quartet (1948), which adapted four stories by the writer W. Somerset Maugham while having him appear from time to time to talk about them. The success of that film inspired two follow-up films in Trio (1950) and Encore (1951) and 20th Century Fox evidently wanted to play on that success with adapting short stories for one film, with O. Henry selected. Actually, they had wanted to do a film based on the writer in 1943, and a film of "The Gift of the Magi" in 1945 was thought of before fizzing out. The writer (born William Sydney Porter, who lived from 1862 to 1910) was a North Carolina native but found his success when he moved to New York (which he called "Bagdad-on-the-Subway") in 1902. He wrote over 300 stories, which generally were known for their wit and their clever endings; one of his most well-known stories was "The Caballero's Way" (1907), which was adapted by Fox for In Old Arizona (1928), and short films based on his works had been done as early as 1909. Left with needing someone to introduce the stories, Fox went to John Steinbeck (a Pulitzer Prize winner and future Nobel laureate in Literature), known for novels such as The Grapes of Wrath (1939), East of Eden (1952), and various other works - this was the first and only film appearance for Steinbeck. 

So let us recap the stories one by one in the order shown (oddly enough, bad screenings involving the Hawks-directed story led to it being removed before it was formally released), which runs at 117 minutes. The first is "The Cop and the Anthem", which was written by Lamar Trotti with direction by Henry Koster. It involves an eccentric on the streets that has plans to spend the cold winter in jail. Laughton is right at home with a role that requires a bit of quizzical timing and an astute sense of self that he plays right to what is needed for those twenty-ish minutes. Monroe is technically in the film as a star, in that she is there for a minute to exchange with Laughton (since the character believes that harassment will help his jail case), which goes fine, while Wayne tags along at times. Technically this is the story with the clearest ending seen coming (well, there is Magi, but come on), but it is a solid A-/B+ kind of story to get it all going. "The Clarion Call" was written by Richard L. Breen while directed by Henry Hathaway, involving a detective in debt to a friend-turned-murderer. It reunites Hathaway and Widmark, who worked on Kiss of Death (1947) to a tremendous debut for the latter actor; he essentially is reprising his role from that film for this one, which was reportedly inspired by the character of The Joker from the Batman comics. Strangely enough, Widmark's performance would influence Frank Gorshin when it came time to play The Riddler in Batman (1966-1968), which seems evident with the laugh uttered by Widmark when we first hear him. He seems to overshadow Robertson, who makes for a decent detective when it comes to wrapping away his guilt in a small cat-and-mouse game with the dangerously playful Widmark. Overall, it is a fairly solid B kind of segment.

"The Last Leaf" was written by Ivan Goff and Ben Robers and directed by Jean Negulseco. Here, we have a story about a lady who believes she will die when the last leaf falls off a tree near her bed. Honestly, the highlight is probably Ratoff, who was actually both an actor and director in his time, and he plays the eccentric artist with fair gusto to counter the dour stuff needed by Baxter and Peters. I think the twist here works better than the ones done in the last two, but a B+ grade seems fairly warranted here in its useful pacing. "The Ransom of Red Chief" was written by Ben Hecht, Nunnally Johnson and Charles Lederer while directed by Howard Hawks (Johnson wanted his name off the script, which was re-written by Hecht and Lederer at the request of Hawks because it was originally written by Johnson with Clifton Webb and William Demarest in mind for stars). To be honest, I fail to see exactly why this was thought of as the clunker among the five, because it is quite amusing, featuring two radio mainstays with Allan and Levant, who play bumbling kidnappers of a snotty kid. It's a chuckler that one will be quite familiar with, because I'm sure most of us have seen/experienced taking care of someone who enjoys taking things into their own hands, whether with a bear or other means, which ultimately means a B- grade. "The Gift of the Magi" was written by Walter Bullock while directed by Henry King. It is likely the most famous of the five stories, and it is probably washed in sentimentality as the aforementioned Leaf story ripe for the spirit of Christmas. You've probably read this story at least once (probably in high school), and it ultimately is a decent if not completely heartwarming tale that we all see coming. Crain and Granger are a decent pair to go along with what is needed in balancing selfless nature without falling into the trap of pap. It is a solid B episode, not exactly the weakest story, and it closes the film out just fine in encapsulating the feel of what the movie yearns to show in generating interesting characters to go with plots that go with useful turns that make for a fairly solid anthology film on the whole. It serves as an interesting piece in depicting an author's work onto film, efficient in what needs to be shown for any viewer curious enough for it.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.