The Private Life of Henry VIII.

Review #1678: The Private Life of Henry VIII.

Cast: 

Charles Laughton (Henry VIII), Merle Oberon (Anne Boleyn), Wendy Barrie (Jane Seymour), Elsa Lanchester (Anne of Cleves), Binnie Barnes (Catherine Howard), Everley Gregg (Catherine Parr), Robert Donat (Thomas Culpeper), Franklin Dyall (Thomas Cromwell), Miles Mander (Wriothesley), Laurence Hanray (Archbishop Thomas Cranmer), William Austin (The Duke of Cleves), John Loder (Thomas Peynell), Lady Tree (The King's Nurse), John Turnbull (Hans Holbein), Frederick Culley (Duke of Norfolk), William Heughan (Kingston), and Judy Kelly (Lady Rochford) Produced and Directed by Alexander Korda.

Review: 

Alexander Korda was involved in the realm of film for over forty years of his life. In fact, he would get his brothers involved with the industry to work alongside him as well, with Zoltan becoming a director and Vincent serving as an art director (for which he would win an Academy Award, which fittingly came with The Thief of Bagdad in 1940). Born in Austria-Hungary, he had changed his name from Kellner and started work in the film industry during the start of the first World War; his first writing project with Watchhouse in the Carpathians (1914) also became his first time directing a film. Over the next five years, he would eventually turn to producing his films as well as directing, with the presence of Corvin Film behind him that resulted in highlights such as White Nights (1916) and Harrison and Barrison (1917, which Korda called his favorite of the period). Trouble in his native country caused him to leave and never return, and he would spend the next two years in Austria and the next four in Germany, with The Prince and the Pauper (1920) helping to spur Korda on to the idea of making films for an international audience (incidentally, that film also happened to have a portrayal of Henry VIII). In 1926, he moved to Hollywood and would spend the next five years there. Although he had a few highlights such as The Private Life of Helen of Troy (1927, a comic biopic) while doing well with silent and sound, he grew tired of the studio system; a move to Europe meant brief time spent in France before settling in England, where he created his own company with London Films in 1932. In total, Korda would film/produce in six different countries while directing until 1947 and producing until his death in 1956. With this film, Korda made his gamble in trying to make an elegant film that honed British but could still attract attention through international waters while featuring a man of the stage with Laughton, who had made his way into acting on the stage in 1926 before dabbling into acting two years later, and while this was only the second time he would appear in a historical role (he had played Emperor Nero the previous year), this was the movie that turned him into a star in a career that spanned numerous portrayals of historical figures that went from Rembrandt to William Kidd (incidentally, he would play Henry VIII two decades later with Young Bess).

It could be easy to say that there isn't exactly a great central structure to this film. Keep in mind, we have a movie that runs at 97 minutes that can only depict five of the six wives married by the King (the first one is called a "respectable lady" in the opening title-card). After all, the king had married six wives but married five them in a span of ten years (after his marriage to Catherine of Aragon lasted 24 years before being the first of three annulled marriages) that has been characterized as both the most important monarch in English history and also one wracked with ego that could be tender to women but prone to withdrawal once out of love. In other words, if one doesn't really consider all of the historical quibbles, one probably won't also think about it goes with a resourcefully cheap but ultimately curious little gem. If Laughton is the biggest gem of the movie, he certainly deserves the credit for making what could have been a mild affair and turns it into a useful venture full of bombast that never seems like a complete caricature or a rosy portrait. Instead, it is a poignant movie that aims well to international audiences (it was the first non-Hollywood nominee for Best Picture), and eight decades has not quite withered the high-spirited efforts from Korda and his crew, right down to Korda regulars Lajos Bíró and Arthur Wimperis delivering a serviceable script that keeps the tempo relatively sane, at least to what one needs from Vincent Korda and his set design that keeps things fairly level. Laughton has the confidence required of such a big role to go alongside gravitas to make it more than just an offbeat king with a habit for women and eating food whole. If he ended up forming the perception of what folks had of the king in the eyes of an audience member, then so be it, because it does have a flattering edge in playing to the audience that can end with a roar or a curious glance (as one supposes it isn't all fun and games in the life of a king that just wants love to last). Oberon (in one of her first key roles) doesn't have as much time to start the first of numerous stories with the wives of Henry, but she has a striking energy to her that makes what seems like a routine dead person walking roll fairly different. Barrie does fine with garnering the next story with what is needed without being coy. Lanchester would appear in a total of twelve movies with Laughton (the two after all were married until the latter's death in 1962), and she proves quite interesting here, garnering some curious moments that make a fanciful third story, complete with a card game scene with Laughton that is one of the highlight scenes. Donat had just entered film in the year before the release of this film within Korda productions (after entering stage in 1921), and he makes a useful supporting presence for what is needed in the key story between him and Barnes, who garners some worthy ambition into a decent spirited chemistry with Laughton, complete with her watching him wrestle in front of all. Gregg is the last key lady of the movie, and while the portrayal probably won't hone well to the spirit of the person portrayed (namely the idea of a henpecked king), she comes out with at least some sort of dignity (the last line that breaks the fourth wall after she leaves the screen is up to you). In general, it is Laughton that helps to shape a movie that would have likely gone near the deep end without a centralizing performance from a growing star, which means one gets a usefully diverting time that hits the mark in relative entertainment without sacrificing showmanship or dedication, which can be credited to Korda and Laughton, who each can credit this film as a time to shine for the right reasons.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The 39 Steps (1935).

Review #1343: The 39 Steps.

Cast: 
Robert Donat (Richard Hannay), Madeleine Carroll (Pamela), Lucie Mannheim (Annabella Schmidt), Godfrey Tearle (Professor Jordan), Peggy Ashcroft (Margaret), John Laurie (John), Helen Haye (Mrs. Louisa Jordan), Frank Cellier (Sheriff Watson), and Wylie Watson (Mr. Memory) 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, and #977 - Frenzy)

Review: 
"The chief requisite for an actor is the ability to do nothing well, which is by no means as easy as it sounds. He should be willing to be used and wholly integrated into the picture by the director and the camera. He must allow the camera to determine the proper emphasis and the most effective dramatic highlights."

One can never say enough about Alfred Hitchcock and the films he made throughout seven decades. He had started his work in film as a title card designer for Famous Players-Lasky in their London studio in 1920. He gained experience from this work before his next job with Gainsborough Pictures as an assistant director. He had worked on numerous short subjects (including an attempt deubt with the curtailed Number 13 in 1922) and films, most notably with Woman to Woman (1923), which he designed the set and wrote for. In 1925, he made his directorial debut with The Pleasure Garden, a flop that now only exists in the viewing markets as a bootleg. His breakthrough came with The Lodger in 1927, inspired by Expressionist techniques of Germany. After the success of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) came this film, his 22nd of his career and sixth-to-last before his departure to Hollywood in 1939. This was an adaptation of the adventure serial (and subsequent publication as novel) The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan, which first came out in 1915. It was the first in what turned out to be a thriller series by Buchan, who wrote four further novels with its main character of Richard Hannay over the next 21 years. The novel has been adapted three times for film along with once for television, with several radio adaptations and even a theatrical production for the stage.Obviously there are a few liberties taken with the work, such as three newly created characters (both female leads along with the brief but important use of someone named "Mr. Memory" for the opening and climax) and even the explanation for the title (an organization in the film, actual steps in the book), but  Charles Bennett and Ian Hay generally followed the outline of the original work.

For such a prolific director, one can't forget to mention its solid cast. Donat had already made the transition from the English stage (done since 1921) to film in 1932. He made just 20 films before his death in 1958 (affected in part due to his chronic asthma), but he made the most of it, even winning an Academy Award for Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939). In any case, he does a tremendous job here, a confident performance in being swept up as the wrong man on the run (a common thing present in numerous Hitchcock films), a wise-cracker wise to carrying an 86 minute film with that stiff upper lip one should see coming from someone of his disposition, careful but dynamic, such as the scene where he needs to make a speech to introduce a candidate he knows nothing about. Carroll proves just as careful with the present scenario, where she is never too far from our mind (with quite a bit of time passing before she shows up after the train sequence), but she makes the most of it. If the two seem at home with panic when handcuffed together in a scene together, that was because Hitchcock had them handcuffed for a few hours (while pretending to have lost the key) to get them in the right sense of mind for such situation. In that sense, the two seem just right with chemistry, which you can see the relaxation as the film goes on. Mannheim shows up for only a few minutes, but she makes the most of it count. Tearle makes for a fine lurking presence, in that one doesn't need bellowing to make a conniving presence count but control. The rest prove fine for a film that has touches of humor to go alongside thrills to make for quite an interesting ride, going from scene to scene with no trouble, where the suspense comes to the viewer without needing to be spoonfed all at once. In the end, this is a wonderful film from Hitchcock in its execution of suspense, rolling itself with controlled ambition and a game cast that make for wonderful entertainment belonging on the level among Hitchcock's past and future prime efforts.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.