The Verdict (1946).

Review #2037: The Verdict (1946).

Cast: 

Sydney Greenstreet (Superintendent George Grodman), Peter Lorre (Victor Emmric), Joan Lorring (Lottie Rawson), George Coulouris (Superintendent John R. Buckley), Rosalind Ivan (Mrs. Vicky Benson), Paul Cavanagh (Clive Russell), Arthur Shields (Reverend Holbrook), Morton Lowry (Arthur Kendall), and Holmes Herbert (Sir William Dawson) Directed by Don Siegel (#893 - Dirty Harry, #920 - Invasion of the Body Snatchers, #1453 - The Shootist)

Review: 

There is good reason to view as many directors as possible when it comes to distinct presences of filmmaking, and Don Siegel is a clear one. The Chicago native started in the film industry within the library of Warner Bros. before he eventually rose to the head of their montage department, which would see him come up with montages for films such as Casablanca (1942). Siegel's career as a director started on pretty good footing, as his first short films with Star in the Night (1945) and Hitler Lives (1945) each won an Academy Award (the former for what is now referred to as Best Live Action Short Film and the latter for Best Documentary Short Film). The Verdict (1946) would be the first of countless films he would direct, which could involve noirs such as Riot in Cell Block 11 (1954), science fiction with Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) or five films spent with Clint Eastwood such as Coogan's Bluff (1968) that would prove influential for the star-turned-director. The movie is loosely based off the 1892 novel The Big Bow Mystery by Israel Zangwill, which had previously served as the basis for two films with The Perfect Crime (1928) and The Crime Doctor (1934). Peter Milne wrote the screenplay. Believe it or not, Greenstreet and Lorre appeared in eight films together. Greenstreet had been born in Eastry, Kent, England in 1879 and had actually tried to make his calling as a tea planter before his financial failures eventually led to acting. By the turn of the 20th century, he was doing his work on the stage, which he did on a regular basis in both Britian and America until he decided, at the age, of 61, to act in films. What better way to start a film career than with a first-time director in John Huston and various others in The Maltese Falcon (1941)? In the next eight years, he would appear in over a dozen feature films, and a number of them happened to feature Lorre, who worked for Warner Bros. in the time from 1941 to 1946. This happened to be the eighth and last film with both in key roles together (technically it is nine, since they were in Hollywood Canteen (1944) together, but that was a cameo bit).

What we have here is a locked room mystery that shuffles the layers around of what you think is a mystery winding down to the climax that finds itself wrapped in paranoia. The 86-minute runtime is the right amount to make a useful first crack for Siegel to hone his talent in something that makes an involving puzzle with seasoned pros (at least for those who are familiar with early 20th century character actor presences). Within its late 19th century atmosphere is a handy feature that wraps things up in the way you might hope to see from a puzzle that isn't so much a puzzle but an inevitability. Greenstreet is effective in the lead role as a man who is seemingly possessed to prove his worth as a man no matter where those decisions may take him in brimming and deductive work. Lorre is the ideal presence to pair him with, observant in the way only he could do in macabre interest in contrast to the looming somber nature of the lead. Coulouris makes a quality contrast to Greenstreet in slimy overconfidence that lingers every step of the way with the right sense of brimming timing. So, here comes the question that arises from the start: how is a man murdered when the door was locked and the windows were closed? Well, the surprise comes from the fact that the seemingly perfect crime is more than just jealousy and blackmail but is instead all about appearances and timing that is told in succinct and convenient fashion that seems about right for a B-level production. As a whole, The Verdict (1946) is a worthy first start for Don Siegel as director with a useful pairing in Greenstreet and Lorre to back up a mostly involving effort fit for curiosity in the now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934).

Review #2032: The Man Who Knew Too Much.

Cast: 

Leslie Banks (Bob Lawrence), Edna Best (Jill Lawrence), Peter Lorre (Abbott), Frank Vosper (Ramon Levine), Hugh Wakefield (Clive), Nova Pilbeam (Betty Lawrence), Pierre Fresnay (Louis Bernard), Cicely Oates (Nurse Agnes), D. A. Clarke-Smith (Binstead), and George Curzon (Gibson) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, and #2014 - The Lady Vanishes)

Review: 

 "Let's say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional."

It isn't often you get to see films where the same director would do it again decades later, but here we are. The Gaumont British production was one of the most noted features released by Alfred Hitchcock in his years in England, and he would do an updated version of this film (each involve an international crime plan with kidnapped children for extortion) that ran for two hours and was done in VistaVision for a distinct feature in its own right. The initial idea with Hitchcock was for him to do an adaptation of a Bulldog Drummond story (as originally created by H. C. McNeile as adventure novel series), which apparently would've been called "Bulldog Drummond's Baby". When that fell through, they just kept the idea of doing a conspiracy film with parents and cribbed the title from a 1922 novel of the same name (as written by G. K. Chesterton) that Hitchcock had select film rights to. The film was written by Charles Bennett and D. B. Wyndham-Lewis (Bennett asserted that he wrote the film with little, if anything done by Lewis). while Edwin Greenwood and A.R. Rawlinson provided the scenario for a film that runs at 75 minutes. This was released in the wake of such previous Hitchcock films as Number Seventeen (1932) and Waltzes from Vienna (1934), which are not exactly as remembered as the films that quickly followed after 1934 with The 39 Steps (1935) and Secret Agent (1936). It certainly ranked as the most curious film Hitchcock did in the sound era since probably his first one with Blackmail (1929), that much is for sure.

Admittedly, for such a little thriller, it actually is quite a vibrant feature in all the little things it does around building tension with a compact amount of time and composition. Banks and Best may not be the most recognizable names among features, but they were solid regulars for dozens of films for good reason, because it sure is something to play to what Hitchcock wants within the ordinary-turned-extraordinary here. This becomes pretty apparent after the opening sequences (such as introducing themselves to the future threat or trying to do a shooting contest) dispense away from their time as just wry parents and goes right into vulnerable panic. The startup to that sequence involves a would-be dance turning into whispers and then panic to effective execution that all involves a secret message (but it isn't the real important thing when it comes to coming up with one's own plan). Hitchcock does find time to pass that might inspire a wry chuckle without seeming wasteful, though, one of which involves a meeting with a dentist or (lest we forget) a church of sunworshippers. Lorre isn't forgotten in the main run of course, choosing his words carefully in menace - he had exactly one other English-language film under his belt with M (1931), which had an English version (remember that he left Germany in 1933), but this was the one where numerous English productions would follow in its wake. He has the physical presence that others wish they could match as a threat, and its clear to see how that could be used for films down the line. By the time that the film lumbers to the climax at the Royal Albert Hall, it has made its setup with key distinctions in one sound that makes the overall execution of said scene all the more better in tension and release. The gun fight that follows was actually inspired by the Sidney Street Siege, a real shootout in the East End of London in 1911 (which was actually captured on camera from a news outlet, some of which featured rising politician Winston Churchill), although obviously the gunfight here ends up different than the actual siege (which involved a collapsed building that killed a fireman), which isn't exploitative or played out with false notes. As a whole, in a lengthy career of several decades, The Man Who Knew Too Much shows Hitchcock in a favorable position when it comes to directing tension that he would cultivate for further success in further productions with most of the right moves already present here in a pretty good time.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Mad Love (1935).

Review #1907: Mad Love.

Cast: 

Peter Lorre (Dr. Gogol), Frances Drake (Yvonne Orlac), Colin Clive (Stephen Orlac), Ted Healy (Reagan), Sara Haden (Marie), Edward Brophy (Rollo the Knife Thrower), Henry Kolker (Prefect Rosset), Keye Luke (Dr. Wong), and May Beatty (Françoise) Directed by Karl Freund (#622 - The Mummy)

Review: 

There is something that appeals well to my being for films that got a bit of a bad rap in contemporary times, especially with a useful actor or director at the helm. You may remember that there was already an adaptation of the novel Les Mains d'Orlac (as written by Maurice Renard) with The Hands of Orlac in 1924. This was not only the first American film appearance for Peter Lorre but also the last film directed by Karl Freund. Freund was born in Bohemia (modern-day Czech Republic), and his interest in film began as an apprentice projectionist in the early 20th century. He would work as a newsreel cameraman before he became a cinematographer, which he would do for many films in Germany, most notably with films such as The Golem: How He Came into the World (1920) and Metropolis (1927); the unchained camera, one that involved a camera without a tripod, was his invention. He moved to the United States in 1929 and continued his work on the camera, even winning an Academy Award for The Good Earth (1937). He had directed one film with The Sensational Trial (1923) in Germany before his move, but the majority of his ten features as director came in America, with The Mummy (1932) and Mad Love (1935) being the most known. With Lorre, he was born in Austria-Hungary to Jewish parents, and he had begun acting in stage since the 1920s in Vienna before moving onto Germany for films. M (1931) made him a noted face with audiences, as it was his first major role as an actor. Alfred Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) only made him more noted. He left Germany for America when Hitler came to power, and this was his first American production. Over the next couple of years, he would do a handful of features as either the menacing heavy or in B-movie fare before his death in 1964. The film was released by Metro Goldwyn Mayer (as part of a deal with Columbia Pictures that had him do the film there in exchange for him getting to do Crime and Punishment), which apparently did not want the film to show a trainwreck of any scenes of...handsy play with statues.

Florence Crewe-Jones was behind a translation of the Renard story while also doing an adaptation with Guy Endore. John L. Balderston and P.J. Wolfson did the screenplay while there were a handful of contributions done by other writers such as Gladys von Ettinghausen, Leon Gordon, Leon Wolfson, and Edgar Allan Woolf. The film was not a considerable success, making less than $400,000 with audiences. Oddly, it became a strange point of contention with a film essay involving Citizen Kane decades later. See, Mad Love and Citizen Kane had the same cinematographer in Karl Freund (brought in to do additional filming after Chester A. Lyons had been the sole cinematographer) and film critic Pauline Kael accused the director as copying the visual style of the earlier film for his feature. In short, let us close out this diversion by calling the essay a sloppy and incorrect piece of junk and move on. The movie, unlike the previous Austrian production, focuses more on the doctor character rather than the character with transplanted hands. Of course, it is hard to top Conrad Veidt in terms of lead dominating performance, so going with Lorre in a different way does make things seem a bit fresher. This results in a curious movie that only runs at 68 minutes that rewards viewers who like Lorre and his endearing presence of creeps more than anybody else in the film. For one, his character is a tragic one, a guy who happens to like weird horror plays in the time not spent curing sick kids...well, that, and the obsession with an actress to the point where he buys a wax figure of her. It is the descent of the doctor rather than the descent of someone with new hands that is the focus here, going from savior to mastermind. He proves quite creepy when it comes to be a master manipulator, one who oozes on an efficient scale that makes the movie entirely his to control in disturbing obsession. You know who liked him in this? Charlie Chaplin, because he called him "The Greatest Living Actor" when he saw this film. Well, it doesn't mean the other actors are bad, it just means they get a bit overshadowed by such fun, most of being on Clive, who makes for quite a mild breakdown, although Drake (known mostly for her work as a terrified heroine on numerous works in the 1930s) does make a quality presence that Lorre can match up with in offbeat mannerisms, which is certainly odd when it goes up against the relief done by Healy, Beatty, and Brophy. At any rate, it is a movie about the outsider in a time where people wanted something a little more escapist that has certainly aged well despite its limitations. The pacing hasn't improved from the last one, and it certainly makes a shaky leap to get to its ultimate end goal, but as a whole it makes for a solid deranged cult classic that probably ranks a bit higher than The Hands of Orlac in the long run when it comes to efficient and off-putting horror.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Patsy (1964).

Review #1710: The Patsy.

Cast: 

Jerry Lewis (Stanley Belt), Everett Sloane (Caryl Fergusson), Phil Harris (Chic Wymore), Keenan Wynn (Harry Silver), Peter Lorre (Morgan Heywood), John Carradine (Bruce Alden), Ina Balin (Ellen Betz), and The Four Step Brothers. Directed by Jerry Lewis (#963 - The Nutty Professor [1963] ,#1404 - The Bellboy)

Review: 

The working title of the film was Son of Bellboy, and I suppose it makes sense to do a loose connection with The Bellboy (1960), since each featured Lewis playing a bellboy named Stanley that got into hijinks. Of course, the previous film was in black & white while having Lewis speak minimally while this feature has quite an interesting main set filled with color (green carpeting, for example). At any rate, what we have here is a movie that dares to aim for amusement with a character that will occasionally bubble into that light of painful awkwardness without becoming fodder to grouse about. It just so happens to involve a patsy surrounded by yes men that might as well be still prevalent today with regards to carefully packaged entertainers fit for the masses (whether through television or video screen). Sure, times have changed in the past five decades when it comes how they come out onto our attention…think about it: in a time of influencers and products made for folks eager to consume product before next product, there is something interesting about seeing a movie where all the steps don't necessarily have to come together to make something people want to watch in public. I think in that regard it makes for a fairly decent movie, albeit one with a slightly less smooth hit-and-miss ratio of gags to time when compared to some of other films with Lewis, who also co-wrote the film with Bill Richmond (a frequent co-writer for films with Lewis as director, as Richmond, a musician-turned gagman, would work on seven of the twelve completed films); this was the fifth film that Lewis directed. But hey, if 101 minutes seem useful enough to go with a mix of guests with notable character presences, this will be right up your alley.

The toadies certainly make it count in pulling strings handily enough without over-reaching, although I am skewed positively because of my familiarity with Wynn, Lorre, and Carradine (even though the latter two basically are there to play yes-man and watcher, respectively). At any rate, this was the last film appearance for Lorre, who died five months before the release of the film along with the penultimate film appearance of Sloane. Of course, a film with a bit to say about show business has a few cameos (much as a star vehicle about Vegas just happens to have George Raft). They mostly come and go without seeming too ragged, at least when your list goes from Scatman Crothers to Hedda Hopper to Ed Sullivan - the middle cameo probably gets the most mileage, probably because of a silly hat that ties with artifice. I respect Lewis and his commitment to the bit when it comes to a character that isn't necessarily meant to be funny all the time but can still generate worthy curiosity without artifice (and no, it isnt just "being himself", it just means he plays his hand without standing to cliches). Balin plays okay as the straight toady that has some sensibility and makes a fair match for Lewis. The bit involving a makeshift tie, done without dialogue, is a fairly neat little sequence to help round the film down, clicking. The last gag is probably my favorite, since it takes down the last bit of artifice when it comes to making entertainment with awareness, and apparently it came about because Lewis couldn't think of a good ending. The film has touched of biting humor in poking at the star system within promoters and the very artifice of Hollywood without becoming a spiteful piece to shudder at. Folks familiar with the timing of Lewis in his execution of directing and acting will find it worthy for a look, and this also extends to those not as familiar with Lewis. Life goes on with or without a star or patsy to kick around, so enjoy as many pieces of entertainment with them, I suppose.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Beat the Devil.

Review #1622: Beat the Devil.

Cast: 
Humphrey Bogart (Billy Dannreuther), Jennifer Jones (Mrs. Gwendolen Chelm), Gina Lollobrigida (Maria Dannreuther), Robert Morley (Peterson), Peter Lorre (Julius O'Hara), Edward Underdown (Harry Chelm), Ivor Barnard (Major Jack Ross), Marco Tulli (Ravello), Bernard Lee (Inspector Jack Clayton), Mario Perrone (Purser on SS Nyanga), Giulio Donnini (Administrator), and Saro Urzì (Captain of SS Nyanga) Directed by John Huston (#081 - The Maltese Falcon (1941), #094 - The Misfits, #224 - Casino Royale (1967), #419 - Key Largo, and #1379 - The African Queen)

Review: 

This is quite an interesting film to stick out in the careers of the people who made it, since it was the sixth and last collaboration between famed director John Huston and star Humphrey Bogart. It seems to have come full circle, since they first worked together with The Maltese Falcon (1941), and it has been argued that this film serves as a spoof of the earlier film - in fact, it has even been thought of by cult audiences as a campy favorite and cult classic. The fact that the film exists in the public domain and was not an immediate success probably aids in that argument. The film was an adaptation of the novel of the same name that was written by Claud Cockburn (using the pseudonym James Helvick, owing to his Communist ties). The author was quite interested in Huston directing a movie off his book, with him reportedly reciting portions of Cockburn's novel to Bogart over the phone, which helped convince him to help fund the film through his production company Santana Productions, while Romulus Films (who had worked with Huston before with The African Queen). Cockburn (whose works were once described as preoccupied with portraying the paradox of good intentions by his son, who grew up to be a journalist in his own right that named his column after the film) started work with Huston on the screenplay, although he was not credited for this (much to some irritation). According to his son, the film needed a change for its ending during the last days of filming, and Truman Capote (famed novelist and short story writer) happened to be visiting the set while in Italy (the author was in Ireland), which led to him being drafted to do work, although it is contended that the zippy dialogue is not so much Capote but Cockburn (Capote, for his part, described it as a spoof on the type of film like The Maltese Falcon); however, Huston in his autobiography stated that him and Capote (who by one report was suggested by David O. Selznick, an eager manager of his wife Jones) would write scenes just hours before they were to be shot. To add on to all the screenplay hubbub, Anthony Veiller and Peter Viertel had been hired to pen the initial script, but it was soon rejected. 

So yes, there is quite a curiosity in the history before even watching the film, but it doesn't hide the relative enjoyment one gets from a pretty good effort in a sometimes-serious, sometimes-quirky effort from a spirited cast doing their best oddball adventure comedy, which works depending on one's patience for its trajectories. After all, Bogart called it a movie that only "phonies" like, and Jones called it a film made as a "three ring circus" by Huston that considered her character to have no reality of any kind. I think the phony line has some basis in reality when it comes to thinking about enjoying a film in irony, such as with The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) and its supposed camp appeal, until one actually sits down and watches the film and realizes the trick (or finds enjoyment). Beat the Devil has its own trick: trying to play off adventure in a semi-serious manner that winks at you with the tenor of a old friend who has had a bit too much to enjoy in beverage but isn't being a complete cloying clod of clamminess. It might as well be the result of the version most people have seen, which was edited from its original preview version, which ran for 94 minutes (as opposed to the 90 in usual copies) - a 4K restoration that contains the original version was done five years ago, which contains no flashback structure and narration as seen here. The best parts of the film are here and there, in that the gulf between interest in the main trio of Bogart-Jones-Lollobrigida and the support of Morley-Lorre-Underdown-Barnard-Tulli is nearly dead even, to where one might desire the latter over the former. Bogart (who one might notice having a few less teeth here and there, as a result of a car accident) does fine here, befuddled at the game he has pulled himself into yet just as collected as one could expect from him without pretense. Jones may have been befuddled by her character, but at least she makes a spirited effort, which has some zippy charm placed within a serviceable chemistry with Bogart. Lollobrigida (who went from small roles in films in the late 1940s to exposure with an appearance in the Miss Italia pageant in 1950) gives off fiery & frosty spunk that pairs handily when placed next to Bogart or Underdown. Morley, no stranger to roles tinged with pompous attitude, proves quite amusing as the head crook, moseying on with push-and-go maneuvering in would-be crime blustering. Lorre (tinged with graying hair for once) go along just as interesting in offbeat charm, one that can muse about time being a crook just as well as trying to pull off a conniving scheme. Underdown plays stuffiness to a T, standing out in his own manner of off-kilter tone in a film that has quite a few nuts in the tree to begin with in its love...diamond-shaped romance. Barnard (in his last film role) and Tulli fill the ship of fools and scoundrels just fine, while Lee serves as the authority figure for the climax (after the sequence with soldiers on the beach of course). At any rate, there are some nice camera shots from Oswald Morris (one of his crew included Freddie Francis, who would become an acclaimed cinematographer and director in his own right) to go with scenery shot in Italy that makes for a weirdly intriguing ride and curiosity. It isn't the tightest-packed adventure, nor is it a broadly amusing film, this much is true. But if one looks at it closely, one will find a charming little movie that has a quiet place among the careers of Bogart and Huston as sly and slick entertainment, moving along on its own broad march of lyrics without issues such as conventions getting in the way, where it even laughs to close out its final revealing moment. Whether that will work all the way for you is up for decision, but a fair tide of cult following for this film in the six decades since release certainly helps the judgement. In other words, it will please those who seek curiosity with their adventures with chuckles.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Quicksand (1950).

Review #1374: Quicksand.

Cast: 
Mickey Rooney (Dan), Jeanne Cagney (Vera), Barbara Bates (Helen), Peter Lorre (Nick), Taylor Holmes (Harvey), Art Smith (Mackey), Wally Cassell (Chuck), Richard Lane (Lt. Nelson), Patsy O'Connora (Millie), John Gallaudet (Moriarity), and Minerva Urecal (Landlady) Directed by Irving Pichel (#617 - Destination Moon and #709 - The Most Dangerous Game)

Review: 
Every decade has its dawn and characteristics that distinguish it from the one before it, particularly for film. The 1920s served as a prosperous time for silent film while the 1930s cultivated sound into a permanent trend alongside finding ways to entertain Great Depression audiences and the 1940s
found war along with film noir and the beginning of the end of the studio system. With the beginning of the Atomic Age, one could only wonder how different things could get for film and the world at large. With scares of the television and red kind, stars and directors found themselves at a crossroad over where to go with a choice beyond studio loyalty in free-lance work. In this case, this film served as a crossroad for its stars and director. Rooney, to put it lightly, had one of the most distinguished careers in acting. He had his debut in film at the age of six, having started in vaudeville with his parents before they separated and his mother moved with him to Hollywood. The following year, he starred in the short film series Mickey McGuire, doing 78 films in seven years. He would find himself into stardom in the latter half of the 1930s with films such as A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935), A Family Affair (1937), and Boys Town (1938). He had reached the peak of his career by the time of his 30s (including an Academy Juvenile Award at the age of 18), but he kept on in a variety of media for 88 years until his death in 2014, whether it was a big or small film role, television, or even Broadway. Lorre had come from the stage to film through Fritz Lang's M (1931) before settling in Hollywood four years later. He had a career of B-movies and character roles that allowed for some highlights, such as Mad Love (1935), The Maltese Falcon (1941), and The Beast with Five Fingers (1946). His career had slowed down in the late 1940s, but he continued on until his death in 1964. Pichel had his start in the theater after graduating from Harvard, soon finding himself into directing alongside character roles in film in the 1920s and 1930s. He had his debut in film direction with The Most Dangerous Game (1932). His career slowed down in the 1950s as a victim of blacklisting (a consequence of fear over certain activity of American writers and directors), with a subsequent heart condition leading to his death in 1954.

This is a decent little film noir, one with a quiet presence of careful pace and a standout performance from Rooney that makes this ever-growing web of seediness and naivety work out fine. Rooney makes things work as well as they do because we can see ourselves in this everyman though his various moments with others in an attempt to play against type, playing tension with grace. Cagney does well with in a role oozing alongside a descent, while Bates serves as a decent contrast, although both have just slight chemistry with Rooney. Lorre is nice to see with his careful seedy presence, but he disappears from the film after the first half (speaking of sudden appearances, Bates really only becomes a presence in the last 25 minutes), since the real villain of the film is ill-advised decision making. Noirs can find themselves in binding twists and turns, and this one (written by Robert Smith) moves along for 79 minutes with an aim for descent that one can at least think is possible (where one mistake can lead to several others) without shaking their heads too much, particularly with its ending, where crime may not pay, but that doesn't mean one mistake is too much to overcome with time. Ultimately, this is a fairly competent little noir from Pichel as a useful curiosity through Rooney and Lorre that serves itself well in the public domain to view at some point in time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: M.

Review #333: M.

Cast
Peter Lorre (Hans Beckert), Otto Wernicke (Inspector Karl Lohmann), Gustaf Gründgens (The Safecracker), Ellen Widmann (Frau Beckmann), Inge Landgut (Elsie Beckmann), Theodor Loos (Inspector Groeber), Friedrich Gnas (Franz) Directed by Fritz Lang.

Review
This is the eighth world cinema film reviewed here (#015 - The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, #017 - A Fistful of Dollars, #019 - For a Few Dollars More, #167 - Gojira, #256 - Nosferatu, #261 - The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, #309 - Santa Claus), with this one coming from Germany. This happens to be the first review of Fritz Lang here, and the third of Peter Lorre, with this being his breakout role that would later garner him more roles. Like Gojira, I watched a version with subtitles (Thus I can't really discuss the level of acting in voices per say.), but even with subtitles the film is easy to follow, not really requiring dubbing (Fun fact: There would later be a dubbed version a few years after this with Lorre speaking English) to work. Lang's direction is good, having style yet a gritty feel to it. If there is one memorable person that is in this, it undeniably is Peter Lorre. He brings a recognizable, sinister tone, and the way his eyes shift along with his demeanor works effectively. The story works well, always managing to have some sort of raw energy that is efficient. Out of the the eight world cinema films reviewed here, this is one of the best, rivaling with Gojira, Dr. Caligari, and the Dollars Trilogy. Great stuff.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Casablanca.

Review #125: Casablanca.

Cast
Humphrey Bogart (Rick Blaine), Ingrid Bergman (Ilsa Lund), Paul Henreid (Victor Laszlo), Claude Rains (Captain Louis Renault), Conrad Viedt (Major Heinrich Strasser), Sydney Greenstreet (Signor Ferrari), Peter Lorre (Signor Ugarte), and Dooley Wilson (Sam). Directed by Michael Curitz.

Review
This film is a classic, as it has reached its 70th Anniversary, as it still entertains then and now. This was my first time watching this film (I watched it a day ago yet wrote the review a day in advance), and I like this film. I like how it get better in the last hour, with everything getting interesting and all. The acting is brilliant, with Bogart and Hepburn being the standouts. This film shows the ever good example of romance in a tale, which is...Not to over sap it. The film has romance, but it does not over ride the film into sappiness material. The film has memorable lines, a good pace, and a way to captivate audiences after 70 years.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Maltese Falcon (1941).

Review #081: The Maltese Falcon.

Cast
Humphrey Bogart (Sam Spade), Mary Astor (Ruth Wonderly/Brigid O'Shaughnessy), Gladys George (Iva Archer), Peter Lorre (Joel Cairo), Barton MacLane (Lieutenant Dundy), Lee Patrick (Effie Perine), Sydney Greenstreet (Kasper Gutman), Ward Bond (Detective Tom Polhaus), and Jerome Cowan (Miles Archer) Directed by John Huston.

Review
This is a classic film that should be watched at least once by people who like film. Yes, that's my first line. And it's truthful straight down to the last period. The acting is good, especially from Bogart. The film has a style to it that helps the film makes its case for a good film, if not already from the acting. The story's good, making you interested in it for the entirety of the film. This film is the stuff that dreams are made of...

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.