Cape Fear (1962).

Review #2336: Cape Fear.

Cast: 

Gregory Peck (Sam Bowden), Robert Mitchum (Max Cady), Polly Bergen (Peggy Bowden), Lori Martin (Nancy Bowden), Martin Balsam (Mark Dutton), Jack Kruschen (Dave Grafton), Telly Savalas (Charlie Sievers), and Barrie Chase (Diane Taylor) Directed by J. Lee Thompson.

Review: 

Yes, even British directors can fall in and out of "social realism" films to do some adventures. Actually, I had assumed I had covered a film by J. Lee Thompson before, but as it turns out, Thompson's wide variety of films had slipped thought the cracks. He actually had an interest in plays before becoming a screenwriter with at British International Pictures (after spending time in the Royal Air Force in World War II). He had worked as a dialogue director on a handful of films (one included Jamaica Inn [1939]) before finally becoming a feature director with Murder Without Crime (1950). Thompson's most noted effort of the first few years probably was Woman in a Dressing Gown (1957), which dealt with a failing marriage. However, he became an action guy with Ice Cold in Alex (1958) that saw him reach a peak with The Guns of Navarone (1961), which came about because Alexander Mackendrick got replaced late. Described as a director who "sort of sold out", Thompson would work in a variety of film and TV that ranged from directing the fourth and fifth film of the Planet of the Apes series to other fare like Happy Birthday to Me (1981) and nine Charles Bronson vehicles that closed his career with Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects (1989). Thompson died in 2002 at the age of 88. At any rate, Cape Fear is adapted from the 1957 novel The Executioners, as written by John D. MacDonald in 1957. Peck and his production company had purchased the rights to the book not long after it came out, and the experience he had with Thompson on Navarone got him to hire him to direct the ensuing film (it was Peck that suggested the film title, apparently believing the book title was a "turn-off", where upon he looked up places on the Atlantic coast and found the Cape Fear region in North Carolina). The movie was written by James R. Webb, the writer for various screenplays such as Vera Cruz (1953) and The Big Country (1958). Naturally, a remake was done in 1991 (by Martin Scorsese, no less). Interestingly, both film adaptations are distinct in their freewheeling from the book that ranged from the time spent in jail (13 in the book, 8 in this film, and 14 in the 1991 movie), the nature of Bowden's relation to Cady (one as a witness to Cady's crime during wartime, a witness as a prosecutor, or as a defense attorney to Cady). Peck, Mitchum, and Balsam also made small appearances in the remake.

For whatever reason, audiences of the time seemed to be a bit weirded out at the rough-and-tumble elements of a thriller movie because, uh, even a movie that doesn't say the word "rape" could be thought of as a tough sit. Nowadays, one just sees a movie filled with impending terror that makes the best of its Hitchcock ambitions (why else would one have Bernard Herrmann for the music) for a pretty neat thriller. Peck may be a bit overshadowed here, but he maintains the general dignity that comes with trying to maintain a grip on one's principles (so not a saint but clear in his motivations). His onscreen family with Bergen and Martin sell that shaky dynamic that arise in growing ugliness that one is exposed to that is sold well. Balsam and the others are relatively on point in filling the edges in the growing claustrophobia (incidentally, this was released the same year that a relatively young Savalas was nominated for an Oscar for Birdman of Alcatraz [1962]). Undeniably, Mitchum is the star here, and it was said that he took the role only when he was gifted a bottle of bourbon (his other best-known role in malice is probably The Night of the Hunter [1955], incidentally). You can just feel the malice ooze from him in each scene he appears in, mostly because his contempt for Peck shines ever so brightly in general menace. He maneuvers around like a snake awaiting a target to strike with its fangs that perhaps is just as unnerving in his maneuvering that dominates the first half of the film, whether it involves the legal system or, well, people. You just have to experience the slime for yourself, particularly the sequence with the eggs. The sequence he shares with Peck prior to the climax involving the extent of where one would go in single-minded pursuit is especially a standout. The climax is relatively fine when it comes to setting up the entrapment for a queasy mood, albeit within the confines of what you might expect from its era. As a whole, it is a fairly tight thriller that hits most of the beats required in rough enjoyment with star value and a worthy look to accompany it in thrilling execution. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Machine-Gun Kelly.

Review #1674: Machine-Gun Kelly.

Cast: 

Charles Bronson (George R. 'Machine Gun' Kelly), Susan Cabot (Florence 'Flo' Becker), Morey Amsterdam (Michael Fandango), Richard Devon (Apple), Jack Lambert (Howard), Frank DeKova (Harry), Connie Gilchrist ('Ma' Becker), Wally Campo (Maize), Barboura Morris (Lynn Grayson), Lori Martin (Sherryl Vito), George Archambeault (Frank), Robert Griffin (Mr. Andrew Vito), Michael Fox (Detective Clinton), and Larry Thor (Detective Drummond) Directed by Roger Corman (#368 - The Little Shop of Horrors, #684 - It Conquered the World, #852 - The Terror, #931 - Not of This Earth, #1007 - Attack of the Crab Monsters, #1039 - Five Guns West, #1042 - War of the Satellites, #1136 - Gas-s-s-s, #1147 - X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes, #1186 - A Bucket of Blood, #1423 - The Wild Angels, and #1425 - The St. Valentine's Day Massacre)

Review: 

Admittedly, one really has to spread out the time spent in what I would like to call the AIP Zone. The hundreds of films that came from the studio of American International Pictures in that nifty little era it encapsulated could make for quite a few interesting marathons, and it only makes sense to encounter Roger Corman yet again. By this point in time, Corman had directed over a dozen films in the span of three years, and he did so in a variety of genres that ranged from westerns to science fiction, although he would dabble in the field of crime films and noirs (Rock All Night (1957) is one of Corman's favorites). Well, there is that other distinction to note for this movie in seeing Charles Bronson in a leading role. The Pennsylvania native (who changed his name from Buchinsky on advice that his name might affect his career) had started appearing in films and television early in the decade that eventually grew into supporting roles of note with Apache (1954). The same year that he would star in this film also saw him with a lead role on television in Man with a Camera, which ran for two years on ABC; at any rate, he would move on from middling support roles to leading support acting (incidentally, this would not be the only film Bronson did for AIP, as he would co-star in Master of the World three years later). Interestingly enough, the role was actually not initially viewed with him in mind, as Dick Miller at one point was announced as the star. Robert Wright Campbell served as the writer for the script, and this was the second of six movie scripts that he would do for a Roger Corman film.

You may or may not recognize that this is loosely based on the exploits of the criminal of the same name (a nickname given to him by his second wife, Kathryn, who had bought him the weapon), one of the numerous criminals that was referred as a public enemy to justice (alongside others of the 1930s, for which filmmakers would cover in cinema, and AIP released this film as a double feature with The Bonnie Parker Story), although his crimes dealt with bootlegging and robbery. His infamous moment occurred when he had kidnapped tycoon Charles Urschel for ransom in July 1933 (keep in mind, kidnapping became a federal offense in this year); when you think about it, the real story behind the capture is interesting, because Urschel actually played a key part in the capture of the suspects by noting the evidence around him (namely the sounds that he could hear when blindfolded and held captive for nine days). Two months after the kidnapping, Kelly alongside his wife and others were arrested, and the myth is that he apparently had surrendered to FBI agents - obviously, the mythmakers had to stretch the report of Kelly just raising his hands in the corner and saying nothing. At any rate, I doubt that the real Kelly (who died after serving 21 years in prison, for which he was teased by some as "Pop Gun Kelly" because of the stories he told) was afraid of death like the person depicted in this film, and yet here we are with a fairly interesting movie. It probably isn't a great historically toned film, and it definitely is a pretty cheap movie (made for about $60,000 in ten days), but there is an interesting quality to its efficient pace that works far better than it should. Corman wanted to make a movie about a criminal that was "just a coward and a giver", one that didn't hone to the Robin Hood mold that he felt gangster films usually went to. In other words, we have a movie about a criminal couple that has a considerable difference of power that one would be surprised to see from its time - a robber that might brandish a big weapon but is a meek man defined by the person behind him. It doesn't exactly raise any new heights to the gangster genre, but there is something affable about its grip in tension when it comes to the dynamic between Bronson and Cabot in the drive for the elusive "more". Bronson would find his mark with steely roles in later years, but there is something curious about what he manages to do when it comes to making Kelly out into a somewhat complicated being. That isn't to say that he is turned into a man of sympathy, but there is something here that seems raw and relevant in the way one would see a junkyard dog on and off its leash (the pace of violence isn't too gratuitous either, which actually matches up with its title character well - aside from the moments where there's a tiger present to spook up folks scared of big cats with teeth). Cabot called this film the most satisfactory of the six that she made with Corman, and it isn't hard to see why. She does quite well here, devastating in her zeal when it comes to maneuvering the machinations that come from acting as part of the one-two punch when it comes to wheeling and dealing. In other words, she doesn't become or chew the scenery to the detriment of the film (which can happen in weaker films that only have one thing in mind). She compliments the criminal aspect of this tandem with a show of composure that plays on instinct when it comes to impulse. The movie relies on these two playing that dynamic for 80 minutes that generally works out; that isn't to say the other actors aren't anything special, but I think you know what I mean when it comes to a weary man if his weapon is missing (besides, hearing about a guy losing his arm to a tiger is probably more memorable than a kid being a hostage). The fear of death isn't exactly something that one can make fun of in any case, especially when one thinks of the choices made to get where they are in that moment, which could happen to you just as much as what happens here. As a whole, while it certainly plays fast and loose with facts, the fact that it tries to play around with the idea of not needing a blaze of glory moment combined with Bronson and Cabot make for a far more interesting movie than what it could have been. It moves with the shadows for clean-cut pulp that certainly can make for quite a guilty pleasure. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.