Peeping Tom (1960)

Review #2294: Peeping Tom.

Cast:

Karlheinz Böhm (Mark Lewis; Columba Powell as young Mark Lewis), Moira Shearer (Vivian), Anna Massey (Helen Stephens), Maxine Audley (Mrs. Stephens), Brenda Bruce (Dora), Miles Malleson (elderly gentleman customer), Esmond Knight (Arthur Baden), Martin Miller (Dr. Rosan), Michael Goodliffe (Don Jarvis), Jack Watson (Chief Insp. Gregg), Shirley Anne Field (Pauline Shields), and Pamela Green (Milly, the model) Produced and Directed by Michael Powell (#400 - The Thief of Bagdad, #1367 - A Matter of Life and Death, #2062 - A Canterbury Tale)

Review: 

"I make a film that nobody wants to see and then, thirty years later, everybody has either seen it or wants to see it."

It's easy to say the critics of a certain time were just stupid with some films, particularly in horror. This is especially strange to think about when you have 1960 to look at with prominent directors dipping their toes in horror. You might remember Powell as part of the duo The Archers, where he wrote, produced, and directed a handful of classic British films together with Emeric Pressburger before he struck out on his own after they split in 1957. The movie was written by Leo Marks, who actually had served at the Special Operations Executive in World War II for cryptography (having enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe's "The Gold-Bug" at a young age along with breaking his father's price code for books) before becoming a writer in plays and films, with this being his most noted. The screenplay apparently came from his perception that all cryptographers are "basically voyeurs". You might see a few similarities with this and Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho: both involve mild-mannered leads with parent problems that we follow for the film, both could be claimed as "the early slasher", and both have an interesting way of basically making one be the voyeur themselves (interestingly, the poster for this film in saying to "See it from the beginning" matches loosely with the demand of no late admission for Psycho). But Peeping Tom, released a few months before the other film...and critics treated it like it murdered their parents. Seriously, what kind of movie is controversial enough to have one guy wish they would "shovel it up and flush it swiftly down the nearest sewer"? Even a subsequent 1979 release campaign spearheaded by Corinth Films that saw money provided by Martin Scorsese (an admirer of the film back then) saw a critic call it among the "limper suspense movies". Powell directed just four theatrical films after the failure of this film, but he at least saw the vindication of the film play out before his death in 1990 at the age of 84. 

Yes, you do get your killer movie involving the camera capturing death (four in total, which come from a blade located in the tripod), but one obviously looks further when it comes to the deeper elements that come with knowing who the killer right from the get-go. Sure, you don't actually see that much violence beyond the realm of seeing people show fear for what is being shown in front of them, but I'll stake the idea that this is still a pretty unnerving horror film at any rate (others may disagree, but whatever). It has a compelling lead performance precisely because of the manner it goes to actually let one wonder just what could compel someone to be so absorbed in their pho-I mean, their camera, to see the world. I think we can find people with an obsession that seems more useful to them than being outgoing now, if you catch my idea. Hell, Powell cast himself not as the director in the film that our lead character works for, he cast himself as the little-heard but important father of the lead, one who made him a guinea pig for experiments about fear (complete with having his own son play the young kid captured in fear). Consider the way he handles a woman with a cleft palate in photographing (which he does on the side in the seedy places), where he remarks of it as a "first time". Böhm (a regular actor since the late 1940s) was apparently cast by Powell because as the son of famed Austrian composer Karl Böhm, he figured he would understand the role well when it comes to being in the shadow of one's father. Suffice to say, he sure pulled off a worthwhile performance here, inspiring curiosity over this stunted creature, one that we wonder about because of his fetish to stare isn't exactly that much different from our desire to see horror play out on camera. Powell clearly saw himself in this character, and Böhm clearly took it to heart for a sincerely sad triumph. Massey (as opposed to Shearer, who gets offed pretty quickly) actually matches well with Böhm in considerable curiosity because of her attempts at understanding such a strange creature come off convincingly to us, because her interest matches right in with our interest more than just being an ordinary last one out type. With a carefully constricted level of curiosity (101 minutes), there is plenty to recommend for a viewer to watch in the grand display of chilling patience and probing curiosity in obsession and where it could all lead to when left to one's devices. depending on where you define it in the realms of horror, it is a worth a watch at some time in someone's horror curiosities. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

A Canterbury Tale.

Review #2062: A Canterbury Tale.

Cast: 

Eric Portman (Thomas Colpeper), John Sweet (Acting Sgt. Bob Johnson), Dennis Price (Sgt Peter Gibbs), Sheila Sim (Alison Smith), Charles Hawtrey (Thomas Duckett), Esmond Knight (Narrator/Seven-Sisters Soldier/Village Idiot), George Merritt (Ned Horton), Edward Rigby (Jim Horton), Hay Petrie (Woodcock), Freda Jackson (Mrs Prudence Honeywood), Eliot Makeham (Church Organist), and Betty Jardine (Fee Baker) Directed, Written, and Produced by Michael Powell (#400 - The Thief of Bagdad and #1367 - A Matter of Life and Death) and Emeric Pressburger (#1367)

Review: 

A Canterbury Tale was the seventh feature film made under the company of The Archers, who I'm sure you remember is the combination of two worthy talents in Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger that had started collaborating with each other that took place mostly in the 1940s, with both of them first being credited as director with One of Our Aircraft Is Missing (1942), after Pressburger had first written for a number of previous Powell productions. They had followed that up with The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), which is often called one of the best British films made. Among the first couple of films by the two, this one was known as being just modestly successful with audiences (the next three years after 1944 were as follows: I Know Where I'm Going!, A Matter of Life and Death, Black Narcissus). Title or not, the film did accomplish one thing more than anything else in reminding me of the varied experience I had in having to talk about the Canterbury Tales in college. If you remember, those were a collection of tales written by Geoffrey Chaucer in the late 14th century that were presented as being told by a group of pilgrims travelling from London to Canterbury on their way to a shrine. The prologue of the tales even is read for the opening of the film right before one cuts from a falcon right to a spitfire. The American release apparently had 20 minutes (of a two-hour feature) cut while including narration by Raymond Massey alongside sequences with Kim Hunter. Of course, some of the tales I remember were at least amusing such as the Miller's Tale (which involves the backside), but I'm sure you know that when it comes to films of the countryside, sometimes the past really does haunt the present.

It is a three-pronged story within people of the countryside that involves folks trying to figure out just who is spraying glue on the hair of women that isn't really a mystery or really any sort of genre film. One does, however, think more of the English landscape rather than any sort of mystery about glue or where the story really will go, which is likely a testament to Erwin Hillier and his cinematography (supposedly the only thing that bugged Powell about his cinematographer was an obsession for clouds to break up a clear sky in order to start shooting). The black-and-white photography (done because of war shortages) is quite engaging to look at when it comes to this pilgrimage of ordinary folks that involve two sergeants and a member of the Women's Land Army. In their trip of circumstance and curiosity is figuring out what really matters most when looking upon the countryside in a time of need: clarity. Portman is the uniting force between the three pilgrims in mysterious graciousness that (culprit or not) reminds one of what really matters when it comes to knowledge of history and people in the countryside. Each of the key three travelers in Sweet, Sim, and Price represent the weariness that comes with travelers that perhaps need reminding of life in the countryside rather than just passing through life. Sweet was actually not an actor but instead a sergeant in the U.S. Army during the ongoing war, for which he was selected over the original idea of Burgess Meredith (who instead served as script editor). While he did try his hand at acting with the theater after the war, Sweet eventually went back to his real passion in teaching (while donating his $2,000 salary for the film to the NAACP). As such, what comes out is what you would expect for a one-time actor in terms of stiff curiosity that is about on par for what the film is asking for anyway. This proves about right for Sim and Price (each making their film debuts) when it comes to building these people up for their eventual fate in warmth, mostly for the latter, since the sequence at the Canterbury Cathedral involving the organ is probably the highlight to listen and view to. From the battle of kids playing pretend, I'm sure you can tell that this is a local passion project. Powell was from Kent, England (specifically the village of Bekesbourne), and it is evident that he made a passion project that loves the region, even if he couldn't quite shoot in the famous Canterbury Cathedral (due to bombings and preparations made in reaction to it that saw the stained-glass windows be removed), which therefore required a mix of set-work and miniature replicas. As a whole, its attempt at morale boosting may have rung a bit hollow when it first came out, but the film has endured nonetheless because of its spirit for the countryside that makes for an intimate accomplishment.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

A Matter of Life and Death.

Review #1367: A Matter of Life and Death.

Cast:
David Niven (Peter Carter), Kim Hunter (June), Roger Livesey (Dr. Frank Reeves), Raymond Massey (Abraham Farlan), Marius Goring (Conductor 71), Kathleen Byron (Angel), Joan Maude (Chief Recorder), Robert Coote (Bob Trubshawe), Robert Atkins (the Vicar), Abraham Sofaer (the Judge), Richard Attenborough (English Pilot), and Bonar Colleano (American Pilot) Written, Produced, and Directed by Michael Powell (#400 - The Thief of Bagdad) and Emeric Pressburger.

Review:
Sometimes it takes two to make a film go right. Whether it is a collaboration between a producer and a director or a star and director, the best films are the ones that make every aspect work cohesively. Powell and Pressburger are certainly one of the most notable film partnerships in history, and for good reason. The British-born Powell had come from studio hand to title-writer to director in six years, with his debut being Two Crowded Hours (1931) that were followed by quote quickies before a notable success with The Edge of the World (1937). After a few years of directing films, he was hired by Alexander Korda on a contract, and he was soon brought in to do The Spy in Black (1939), where he first met Pressburger, who wrote the screenplay. Pressburger (born in Austria-Hungary) had gone from journalism to screenwriting, starting in Germany and France before leaving for England in 1935 after the Nazis came to power. Pressburger found his footing with fellow Hungarian filmmakers such as Korda and his studio London Films. Powell and Pressburger would ultimately do 24 films together from 1939 to 1972, with most of the films being released under their production company of The Archers, which lasted from 1943 to 1957, with notable films being 49th Parallel (1941, earning Pressburger an Academy Award for Best Story), Black Narcissus (1947), and The Red Shoes (1948).

Undeniably, this is a highlight for 1946, one that prevails in charm through a wonderfully assembled cast that has a sharp script and plenty of visual imagination to go along with it. The most notable effects of the film is the usage of black-and-white for scenes in the Other World, accomplished through not adding color to the print that were filmed in three-strip Technicolor. Of course the other notable effect of the film (released in America as Stairway to Heaven) that dazzles the imagination is a huge escalator, which had 106 stops that were 20 feet wide each and had hanging miniatures to help achieve the final effect. One will find themselves in awe most of the time when it comes to what the film aspires to do with its wit, one that is readily active in stoking emotion and curiosity in both worlds to where you never really want to see it ends. At the command in the film is Niven, wrapped with charisma as the finest everyman one could ever hope for, particularly when it comes to chemistry with Hunter, who is equally as enjoyable when it comes to exuding grace. Livesey provides charm as well, a capable hand of reason that stands at his tallest when it comes to the trial sequence, where he holds his own with the dignified Massey. Goring provides levity in his moments on screen, with the easiest one to highlight being when he appears to Niven after his friends' tennis match is frozen (which in it of itself is quite clever). There exists numerous highlights one can talk about when it comes to the film (in distinct colors, no less), from the capable choreography by Jack Cardiff to the court sequence with its massive set (composed of a 350ft x 40ft high blackcloth) that strikes at the heart with sentiment and a poignant ending that makes it one of the worthiest 104 minutes one could spend with imagination that can amaze any crowd, young or old. It is a film that strikes tenderly in a way that endures after over seven decades because of how much it dazzles with heart that works as well with postwar audiences as it does today, where one could really believe that love can be the strongest thing in our world. It's an easy film to recommend, a gem for Powell and Pressburger that stands with triumph now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Thief of Bagdad (1940).

Review #400: The Thief of Bagdad.

Cast
Conrad Veidt (Jaffar), Sabu (Abu), June Duprez (The Princess), John Justin (Ahmad), Rex Ingram (Genie), Miles Malleson (Sultan of Basra), Morton Selten (The Old King), Mary Morris (Halima), Bruce Winston (The Merchant), and Hay Petrie (The Astrologer) Directed by Michael Powell, Ludwig Berger, and Tim Whelan.

Review
The Thief of Bagdad is a remake of the 1924 version (reviewed previously - #399), and in some ways the two films are alike, but in other ways they are different, and that is a good thing. The two films differ in sound, in color, and other various things (such as the Prince and the Thief being different characters rather than one) but they both seem to carry the magic of fun, as a tale as old as time. Conrad Veidt is a brilliant villain, who I've covered before in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (#261) and Casablanca (#125), and he works well. Sabu is a fine actor, not annoying or dull, more an actor in development as he already was acting at 13, but he would sadly die at the age of 39. A good actor nonetheless. Duprez and Justin are fine romantic leads, not too bad or too cliche. The supporting actors (like Rex Ingram) are decent, and they do add to the film's depth. This is a film with many ambitions and many ideas. The effects are great because they are groundbreaking for the time, a blue screen (also known as green screen), developed by Larry Butler which gives the film a new level of spectacle, much like how the 1924 version did with its own effects. This film has good ideas which also inspired Aladdin (#156) as I mentioned before. This is a delight for both children and adults, as it manages to have a good heart and a well enough attempt at entertainment. A treasure trove for everyone. I'd like to say it has been a fine thing to review for 400 films, and I am sure there is more to come for me and you. Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and I hope you keep reading as I hope I watching films.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.