If I Were King.

Review #2018: If I Were King.

Cast: 

Ronald Colman (François Villon), Basil Rathbone (King Louis XI), Frances Dee (Katherine DeVaucelles), Ellen Drew (Huguette), C. V. France (Father Villon), Henry Wilcoxon (Captain of the Watch), Heather Thatcher (the Queen), Stanley Ridges (Rene de Montigny), Bruce Lester (Noel de Jolys), Alma Lloyd (Colette), Walter Kingsford (Tristan l'Hermite), and Sidney Toler (Robin Turgis) Produced and Directed by Frank Lloyd (#099 - Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), #1321 - The Sea Hawk, and #1339 - Cavalcade)

Review: 

Based on the early 20th century play and novel of the same name Justin Huntly McCarthy that involved the noted French poet François Villon, it probably doesn't surprise you to see this film among the list of ones done in the 1930s when it comes to literary inspirations. It wasn't the first adaptation, as Fox Film did one in 1920 with William Farnum as Villon. John Barrymore took his crack at it in 1927 with The Beloved Rogue. A 1925 operetta adaptation was turned into a 1930 musical operetta film with Dennis King. Two further adaptations have followed since this film, with François Villon (a French 1945 film) and The Vagabond King (1956). Who better to do a historical drama than Frank Lloyd? Sure, he may not be the most noted name among famed folks with multiple Academy Awards, but Lloyd specialized himself as a reliable director in both the silent and sound era. He had been born in Glasgow, but he only became an actor after seeing his travels in Canada as a would-be rancher and telephone company worker turn to Los Angeles in 1913. Needless to say, he made a variety of films, with Berkeley Square (1933) being his favorite. If I Were King was actually made in the latter stage of Lloyd's career, as he would retire for the first time in 1946 before a brief comeback with Republic Pictures in the 1950s. A studio man in the most complimentary of senses, he did films for studios from Fox Film to Paramount to Warner Bros. Oh, and this is a film that saw a script written by Preston Sturges. Sturges had made his way to Hollywood as a contributor to dialogue and script work in the 1930s (having first served as a playwright on Broadway) with films such as The Big Pond (1930) and The Power and the Glory (1933). Two years after the release of this film, he would become a director by selling his script The Great McGinty for "ten dollars" and the rest is history. 

It probably isn't surprising to see that even the reign of King Louis XI can lend itself to interesting biodrama with a bit of action and light touch of comedy. Well, having Ronald Colman as the lead actor is a pretty big help, because he brings a great presence of dignity that you would expect from a man of his talents. This time around, playing a poet with elements of the scoundrel that makes a mostly interesting film about the nature of what it really means to say one could do things on the level of a king (defender of the faith, don't forget), especially when playing a loose interpretation of an author that no one knows the fate of after his banishment in 1463 (incidentally, Louis IX became king in 1461 and reigned until 1483). Rathbone provides the support required in an eccentric that plays along in the charade (it is a romanticization after all) in a way that generates some amusement while never forgetting his place on the throne and the ways that he maneuvers people like pawns on a chess board. The little game that the two play of seeing how one would do "if I were King" is really more than just a series of little royal hijinks, instead serving as a trial of pride, one where the King can play both observer and executor. Of course, the romance between Colman and Dee is meant to be the real game of guesswork, and they do make a fine pairing for what is needed beyond the illusions that arise from the film (one built on it because of the very nature of Villon's fate). The rest of the cast do just fine in support, all serving as pawns in this weird little game of "who's playing who" that range from winded father figures in France or friends of the once-low man in Drew or Toler. The 101-minute runtime goes without many hitches, setting up its key conceit within the first 40 minutes without dawdling, and the climax is apt enough to patch things out handily enough. So yes, it is a ham-handed telling of poet and king in who is really setting who up, but it is an enthusiastic film with a useful script, a servicable director and worthy lead performances in Colman and Rathbone to carry things over the finish line with plenty to recommend in the long run, as one would hope from a film of its ilk.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

La Grande Illusion.

Review #2017: La Grande Illusion.

Cast: 

Jean Gabin (Lieutenant Maréchal), Marcel Dalio (Lieutenant Rosenthal), Pierre Fresnay (Captain de Boëldieu), Erich von Stroheim (Captain (later Major) von Rauffenstein), Dita Parlo (Elsa), Julien Carette (Cartier), Gaston Modot (Engineer), and Georges Péclet (Officer) Directed by Jean Renoir (#1234 - The River)

Review: 

"[La Grande Illusion] is a story about human relationships and I am confident that such a question is so important today that if we don't solve it, we will just have to say 'goodbye' to our beautiful world.”

You know, the label of "auteur" apparently went out first to directors such as Jean Renoir. That is the theory that a director had such a control of their filmmaking in personal style that one could identify a film as made by them alone when it comes to talking about cinema. So yes, folks like Renoir or Hitchcock (depending on what critic is talking about, of course, since it was François Truffaut who called Renoir one of the "la politique des auteurs"). Renoir served in the French cavalry prior to the start of World War I. He took a gunshot to the leg and grew interested in cinema when recovering before eventually serving as a reconnaissance pilot. His father (Pierre-Auguste, a famed Impressionist painter who raised an actor son in Pierre, and a ceramic artist in Claude) suggested he should go into ceramics, but Renoir took inspiration from Erich von Stroheim and became a filmmaker in 1924. The film takes its title from the 1909 book The Great Illusion, as written by Norman Angell that said theorized that a European war wouldn't occur because of the economic cost of war being so great. The film was written by Jean Renoir and Charles Spaak; it is a French film that due to its interesting circumstances of character setup sees a mix of French, German, and English spoken all throughout the film.

As a film of brotherhood, it was quite popular in its day (despite trouble in finding a producer for years), owing to Renoir's goal of apparently doing a true picture of the men doing the fighting that had been done (in his eyes) by only All Quiet on the Western Front (1930). Franklin D. Roosevelt called it a film for "everyone who believes in Democracy". Renoir finished the decade with La Marseillaise (1938), La Bête Humaine (1938), and The Rules of the Game (1939); the latter was eventually referred to as one of his best films. Fierce bonds between prisoners clearly must have irked Nazi Germany, since the country not only banned the film (with a label of it being "Cinematographic Enemy Number One") but also found time to destroy most (not all) of the prints of the film. Given that the film was made right in the middle of two World Wars, it probably says more about the nature of people than anything, as if it isn't enough to have "class ailments" to go with wars that treat all folks the same in terms of who goes first or not. There may be time for POWs to go in drag and sing "La Marseillaise", but there isn't time for sentiment in war or time to wonder just what the place will be for a "Boëldieu" in a post-war society or if one is snuffed out before that can happen. In that sense, for an anti-war film that shows the plight of one trying to eke out with some sort of humanity remaining that basically says "damn the classes, let's get the hell out of this war".

Gabin has been called one of France's key stars in cinema, and he appeared in a wide range of films of varying directors beyond a handful of collaborations with Renoir. He has an understated charm that seems effortless when it comes to making a pursuit of escape at all costs, and the repertoire with Dalio (playing a rich but generous prisoner, with his Jewish heritage being noted) makes them a worthy pair to follow in solid timing (most tragically, Dalio would later see members of his family perish in concentration camps at the hands of the Germans, who used his face as a "typical Jew" on posters). The film is neither dour nor mired in sentimentality, finding a balance with its seamless sense of cinematography and humane spirit to make a mostly effective pacifist feature. Even the moments spent with Parlo (near the climax, which apparently came to Renoir late in production) make for a fruitful time in saying what needs to be said in the true measure of war from the only key person not playing a soldier. Evidently, von Stroheim and Renoir had an eventful time when it came to making the film together, but the former later said, "I have never found a more sympathetic, understanding and artistic director and friend than Jean Renoir." With certain suggestions made by von Stroheim (such as certain parts of dialogue) mixed in with Renoir's collaborative directing, it makes for a quality performance that doesn't seem constricted with the ratio of screentime to presence. Him and Fresnay represent the last of a potential dying breed when it comes to "needed names in society", and they play it straight to the bone in high-measured honesty, which makes their last scene together all the more poignant. The final sequence (the one after a would-be romance is essentially put on pause) is one best left to looking for oneself to imagine where it could go from there, pragmatic or not. As a whole, you can't go wrong picking this film when looking upon messages about people or war as is the case here, and it is easy to see why this endures as one of Renoir's most distinct films.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Wedding Night.

Review #2016: The Wedding Night.

Cast: 

Gary Cooper (Tony Barrett), Anna Sten (Manya Novak), Ralph Bellamy (Fredrik Sobieski), Helen Vinson (Dora Barrett), Sig Ruman (Mr. Jan Novak), Esther Dale (Mrs. Kaise Novak), Leonid Snegoff (Sobieski), Eleanor Wesselhoeft (Mrs. Sobieski), Milla Davenport (Grandmother), Agnes Anderson (Helena), Hilda Vaughn (Hezzie Jones), and Walter Brennan (Bill Jenkins) Directed by King Vidor (#987 - Show People, #1015 - Bardelys the Magnificent, and #1369 - Duel in the Sun)

Review: 

It is entirely possible that certain directors will fade away in relevance with the passage of time no matter what one does or says. This is especially apparent when you consider the moods of certain folks when it comes to watching "black and white" movies or perhaps hearing directors (dork or not) talk about not knowing who directed certain famous movies. The best way to respond is to educate oneself in making suitable choices and not let silly reasoning win the day. Movie Night is here to spotlight directors until death, so one might as well try to give a spotlight to as many filmmakers as possible. So let us go with King Vidor and a semi-compelling story in a semi-compelling movie, which was actually released in the latter part of a career that lasted over four decades. He was a Galveston native that honed an interest in cameras from a young age, going from photographing them for portraits to serving as an amateur newsreel cameraman. The very first person to give him a chance to do films for places beyond his home was a judge-turned-humanitarian-turned-filmmaker Willis Brown, where he made a handful of short films all about juvenile delinquents and their rehabilitation (the irony is that Brown was actually a guy who falsely claimed to be a lawyer and was called out on it). Anyway, The Turn in the Road (1919) was his first feature film (which he wrote and directed), and he basically never stopped from there, making at least one film for various studios that ranged from Brentwood Film Corporation all the way to United Artists. Vidor was the kind of man who put forth his own "Creed and Pledge" about what he would do as a filmmaker...in 1920, one that believed in the motion picture in carrying a message to humanity that ended with him making an "endeavor to draw upon the inexhaustible source of good for my stories, my guidance and my inspiration." Time has probably been kind to the question about if he achieved his goal or not.

Oh right, there is a film to talk about. The Wedding Night was written by two folks: Edwin H. Knopf wrote the original story that was then turned into a screenplay by Edith Fitzgerald (Knopf based his story on the exploits of F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda, since he was a close friend of Knopf). The story that goes with the film is the last real attempt to make Anna Sten a mainstream name. She was born in Kiev in the Russian Empire (the place where she was born is now what you would call Ukraine) and she had studied theater before becoming an actress for Soviet and German films in the mid 1920s. Samuel Goldwyn discovered her when trying to find an actress of his own that could be promoted in the same way as Greta Garbo (Swedish-born, but I think you get the idea) and decided to sign her to a contract along with extensive training. The result was three films: Nana (1934), We Live Again (1934), and this. They actually promoted her as "The Passionate Peasant", which is, um, interesting when coming in the era of the Depression, and it probably doesn't help that Goldwyn's attempt to make her a star became a punchline in Cole Porter's famed "Anything Goes" song. None of the films were particularly successful, and the result was that Goldwyn released her from the contract. Over the next 27 years, she would make eleven appearances in films (some with the involvement of her husband Eugene Frenke, who was a producer and director for a couple of years) but she was never as prominent as she was with these films. 

The film is actually decent, but I am sure you can figure out how it wasn't exactly destined for stardom. It is actually a fairly well-shot film (done by Gregg Toland), one with fair sensitivity towards the inevitability of a doomed strike of love that, well, you know can only go one of two ways. For the most part, Cooper shines over the rest of the cast in a semi-balanced exploration of what it means to be a writer trying to dig out of the muck and also the differences that arise from a Polish family and someone like Cooper's character. It isn't just a man finding a story in what he is watching around him, it is a man that finds himself in that very story that may or may not be too involved with his own mythmaking. So yes, Cooper outshines them when it comes to plain-spoken honesty for a name right in the middle of becoming more than just a name on certain films (Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, his first Academy Award nominated film, came out the following year), and while I can't say he makes a great "drunken writer", I will say that he trembles his way towards romance with enough conviction to carry things to where they need to go. Ruman and Vinson basically act as the plugs against the idea of the two together, whether that involves traditional coarseness in the former or cloying sensibility in the latter, which is fine. Bellamy makes a quality adversary in affections, in that it is clear where he fits and doesn't fit within an would-be arranged marriage with certain goals. Stem seemingly acts better when placed in quiet moments where one can just watch her react to what is around her rather than, say, heavy dialogue. That isn't saying anything about her accent or anything to do with chemistry, it just means that some actors do better than others when it comes to the line between actor and character played by an actor. It is mildly convincing to see her with Cooper, but one is either invested in the sheer inevitability of who these people are and what must be, or they find it very mild stuff, or perhaps just a trifle, which I guess means that those 83 minutes will either tug on your curiosity or just pass through, and I firmly sit in the middle. It is a nice little film, but that is all it ends up being, just one that you can say warm things about for a time and await further curiosities that either will pique your interest in something else similar or perhaps better. You can't go wrong within certain choices in directors or actors in the 1930s if you know where to go.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse.

Review #2015: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse.

Cast: 

Shameik Moore (Miles Morales / Spider-Man), Hailee Steinfeld (Gwen Stacy / Spider-Woman), Brian Tyree Henry (Jefferson Davis), Luna Lauren Vélez (Rio Morales), Jake Johnson (Peter B. Parker / Spider-Man), Jason Schwartzman (Dr. Jonathan Ohnn / The Spot), Issa Rae (Jessica Drew / Spider-Woman), Karan Soni (Pavitr Prabhakar / Spider-Man India), Daniel Kaluuya (Hobart "Hobie" Brown / Spider-Punk), Oscar Isaac (Miguel O'Hara / Spider-Man 2099), Shea Whigham (George Stacy), Greta Lee (Lyla), Mahershala Ali (Aaron Davis), Andy Samberg (Ben Reilly / Scarlet Spider), and Amandla Stenberg (Margo Kess / Spider-Byte) Directed by Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson.

Review: 

You know, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse grew on me. I mean, it was a pretty good movie when I first saw it in the winter of December 2018, but the fact that it became the type of movie I found myself wanting to watch it as some sort of annual tradition makes it especially apparent in how entertaining it was. It was an entertaining animated comic book movie that felt vibrant and different from not only animated adventures but also Spider-Man films in general. It did do references when it came to citing the various incarnations of the character (such as say, a cartoon parody with Spider-Ham or ones based in 1930s noir or anime) without losing what really mattered in the end: anyone can wear the mask. Undeniably, a sequel was going to happen. My surprise (aside from it winning the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, because hey, when do comic book movies win awards?) was that not only would it take five years for a sequel to come out but that there would also in fact be another Spider-Verse film after that (of course, don't take my word for it, since I also thought Halloween (2018) would be a one-off, and then they proceeded to make two ridiculously mediocre back-to-back sequels). The film was written by Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, and David Callaham (Lord co-wrote the first film while also serving as co-producer on both Spider-Verse films with Miller), and it is the fact that they wrote such an expanding story that necessitated a third Spider-Verse film which will be called, wait for it, Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse.

Irrational or not, a sequel has to overcome the thought that nags in my head all the time: how does the film go in the various aspects that matter beyond originality? One thing is for sure is that the film is about the same level of enjoyment as I hoped to have in a pretty good sequel, one that has to balance the double-edged sword of being a sequel and also basically being half of a two-parter. There are a handful of Spider-Verses visited here, each meant to look like a different artist drew them, which goes to show that one can make scope in a comic book film without clouding it in similar shades of CG. I think being just a notch below the sequel territory of films like The Empire Strikes Back (1980) is a compliment. It presents a new step in the arc of trying to maintain oneself after making the step from having a suit and actually being able to use it: just what does it mean to be a hero, especially when it means to be Spider-Man? Power this, responsibility that, but how does one handle a situation you may not be able to solve regardless of how prepared you are? The film is a visual treat in the manner you would expect from filmmakers and animators that clearly want you to pay attention to what is on screen and what strikes out from the various locations and also the various characters, particularly with Spider-Punk. The film has its share of humor to go along with the growing chemistry between the two leads as played by Moore and Steinfeld and the set-up to bring each of these Spider-folks together and how one exactly sees a cliffhanger coming in a film series that says that anything is seemingly possible. In that sense, it makes a suitable adventure for 140 minutes that shows the benefits of animation (which, you know, is just as much a form of film as live-action) that ironically shows up yet another earlier Spider-Man film made by a certain cinematic universe (which actually tried to do their own "multiverse" film) that liked to do their own "easter eggs". The action (when seen among the various locations) is vibrant and interesting to follow without seeming blurred in staging or in overwrought timing, which is par for the course for what you hope animated films (or films in general) would do. 

Moore (as the fourth theatrical Spider-Man, remember) has proven well in this title role, with his charm always managing to come through even when balancing the lingering doubts that still arise from, well, you know, and the doubts ahead. His scenes with his on-screen family in Velez and Henry feel just as interesting as ever in establishing the differences that matter between parent and child (particularly with Velez in a scene where she tries to understand just what is going on with her son as he tries to grow up and maybe tell her something important). Steinfeld proves just as worthy in her own type of wavering confidence, wrapped up in trying to make her own choice in what is most important in terms of saying vs. doing. Among the new folks is folks played by Rae and Soni (each are fine) with the stick out being the one with firm punk elements (no labels) in Kaluuya, who is actually pretty entertaining. Issac (now with a starring role after being shown briefly in the end-credit scene of the last film) makes for a quality balance among the spider-folk in the art of logistical force, which given the amount of screentime could certainly be thought of as just as adversarial as Schwartzman, who does hold his own in the sudden shifts from would-be villain relief to creepy threat. The confrontation sequence between Moore and a "Spider-Society" in what really matters when handling what seems like fait accompli is especially important to understanding the film at its heart, if you think about it. Of course, Johnson does return from the earlier film as well, having emerged from the cocoon of mentor-in-theory to parenthood, which does lend itself to a few amusing moments. As a whole, I think the first film is probably a bit better, maybe because it managed to endure quite well in my head over the years, but the second film will likely have its own worthy place in viewing without trouble. Of course, sticking the other part of the cliffhanger next year would certainly help, since nobody likes to be left hanging without a net. It is a vibrant and effective sequel that makes all the right moves in what you would expect from an animated film or a sequel in general that has plenty of spectacle and heart to make one curious for what could be next.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Lady Vanishes.

Review #2014: The Lady Vanishes.

Cast: 

Margaret Lockwood (Iris Henderson), Michael Redgrave (Gilbert), Paul Lukas (Dr. Hartz), May Whitty (Miss Froy), Cecil Parker (Mr. Todhunter), Linden Travers ("Mrs." Todhunter), Naunton Wayne (Caldicott), Basil Radford (Charters), and Mary Clare (Baroness) 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, and #1828 - Rebecca)

Review: 

Admittedly, I haven't covered many British films in the line of Alfred Hitchcock, but the man made a film in six different decades, so clearly there will be time yet to cover more of his films, especially when doing 18 of them isn't even covering half of his filmography. The Lady Vanishes is the penultimate film that Hitchcock made in his native England, as he would move to the States to direct in Hollywood after Jamaica Inn (1939). He had attracted attention with previous British classics such as The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935), and American producer David O. Selznick believed he had talent waiting in America. However, Hitchcock still had a contract to go through with Gainsborough Pictures (with this being the 12th and final film with the studio), and it just so happened that a film idea called "The Lost Lady" fell into his lap, as plans to do the film with Roy William Neill fell through when background filing in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia ended in embarrassment. The film is based on the novel The Wheel Spins by Ethel Lina White, with a screenplay by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder. The book has been adapted once more in film in 1979 (a Hammer production with Cybill Shepherd and Elliott Gould as stars) and it has been adapted to television (most recently as 2013 on BBC One) and radio. The nature of the book was shifted by Hitchcock and company, most notably with the climax, since the book did not have a gunfight resolution. There have also been thriller films released with premises that sound a bit similar to the one presented here, such as with So Long at the Fair (1950), about a suddenly missing hotel room and Flightplan (2005), which involved a missing daughter on a plane.

The patience one has with an innocent being thrust into peril will determine just how much of its exhilarating attempts at mystery thrills work for you, with most of it being set on a train filled with a few characters that have evident reasons to maintain the status quo no matter what. With a 97-minute runtime, it does a reasonable job with building the eventual confrontation that comes with trying to confront bold-faced statements without cheating. Lockwood makes a useful lead to follow with when it comes to a archetype familiar in a handful of Hitchcock films: an innocent thrust into a situation with little choice but to dig their way out. Granted, dealing with oddball hotel people that either won't shut up about cricket or music is pretty mundane when compared to missing old ladies, but I'm sure you get the picture of seeing how an ordinary person like her could get swept up in a sea of people being human in "decision-making"; Hitchcock once described her having a gift for both "expressing her beauty in terms of emotion" when it comes to camera shots and also the insight to get the feel of lines, and she became a prominent British star for several years. Redgrave was in his first film role after spending time in the theater, and he does pretty well here in general conviction for wavering belief when spent with Lockwood (whether the belief to mess with her or to be on her side). Lukas and his veteran presence makes a quality adversary in swift conviction that keeps the viewer occupied. Whitty makes a quality presence to serve as the title character, which goes over better when compared to Wayne and Radford, who actually played these "characters" (comedy relief) for a handful of other movies- eh, theyre okay. The funniest thing that happens is probably when one of the characters gets shot the hand when stumbling into a standoff. That, or the attempt at trying to get a "nun" away quietly.

Honestly, I wish I liked it more, but I suppose being a "good" film that just meets expectations is better than being a supposed great film that flounders if one expects way too much. The climax is when the film tries to play neat and tidy with resolving things in clever fashion, which does work out fine. As a whole, it certainly is a movie worth recommending for those quite familiar with the famed director Alfred Hitchcock, especially if one wants to see exactly where the line went from his British roots in directing to taking on Hollywood came with this particular film. You will find plenty to like if you are in the mood for it, and some have even called it one of his best films, so take that for what it is worth.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937).

Review #2013: The Prisoner of Zenda.

Cast: 

Ronald Colman (Major Rassendyll / King Rudolf V), Madeleine Carroll (Princess Flavia), Douglas Fairbanks Jr (Rupert of Hentzau), C. Aubrey Smith (Colonel Zapt), Raymond Massey (Duke Michael), Mary Astor (Antoinette de Mauban), and David Niven (Captain Fritz von Tarlenheim) Directed by John Cromwell (#1008 - The Racket, #1341 - Of Human Bondage, and #1348 - Algiers) 

Review:  

In 1894, a novel was published in the United Kingdom that was written by Anthony Hope, which was titled The Prisoner of Zenda. As one might expect, it has been adapted several times in the realm of stage, film, and radio, with the first adaptation being a play (as adapted by Edward Rose) that opened exactly one year after the novel was published. The silent era saw a handful of films (1913, 1915, 1922), with the most noted one being done by Rex Ingram. Evidently, there were plans to make a musical by MGM with Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy as star. However, it eventually fell into the hands of David O. Selznick and his studio, and he took notice of the abdication of King Edward VIII in 1936 when it came to marketing. There were several writers credited with the writing: John L. Balderston wrote the screenplay while Wells Root wrote the adaptation, Donald Ogden Stewart provided additional dialogue, and un-credited work was done by Ben Hecht and Sidney Howard. John Cromwell, already in his forties when he went from stage performances as actor and Broadway directing to films in the late 1920s, was chosen by Selznick to direct (Cromwell had directed with various studios from Paramount to RKO to United Artists). However, W. S. Van Dyke was brought in to help with reshoots in fencing while George Cukor was recruited to shoot the renunciation scene because he apparently was felt to be good with directing women. Did you know that Hope wrote a follow-up novel to Zenda? Rupert of Hentzau was written the year after Zenda's publication but not seen until 1897 (there have been a few adaptations, but not nearly as many as Zenda, probably because that book ends with the death of the lead, albeit with fitting irony). Evidently, there were plans announced in 1947 to make a film adaptation by Selznick after the success of this film with Joseph Cotten set to star, but it did not come to pass (coincidentally, Selznick's father Lewis was the producer of the 1923 version of Rupert of Hentzau). A shot-for-shot remake of Prisoner of Zenda was done in 1952, with the next (and last) high-profile remake being a 1979 film with Peter Sellars as star. 

When it comes to classics, this one is a pretty easy one to spot. It has all of the pieces you would expect from a swashbuckler: a nifty setup, a few costuming choices, a villain almost as dashing as the hero, and various other methods of adventure. Colman gets to employ the use of tables and chairs to go along with swordplay when it comes to playing with fire in the adventure sense, which reflects well when playing a double role that has him also play a weakened would-be king. It is no surprise that Selznick waited until he secured Colman to get the ball rolling on the film, because he is the dashing presence required in such a film that would seem lacking with perhaps anybody else but him when it comes to glamour without having a sense of being aloof to the fray. Of course, this is also a romance, so the time spent with Carroll is crafted quite well, mostly because her newfound sense of affection for the face standing in front of her is compelling to view in elegance, which makes what occurs in the resolution all the more poignant. Fairbanks Jr, the son of that famed swashbuckler with whom he shared his name, was told by his father to take the part of Rupert when he was offered it over the double role because (in his words), it was "probably one of the best villains ever written". Fairbanks clearly had good advice for his son, because it is a compelling role. He gets to snidely whiplash his way through the action with clear enthusiasm for the material when it comes to being the real threat behind the throne (as opposed to Massey, who actually is pretty decent himself), and the fact that he glides through the final action sequence to parts unknown certainly makes it a memorable adversary to see all the way through. Smith (the lead actor in the London production of the play decades earlier) and Niven (cast right before his turn as a star) provide support to Colman in very mild relief. As a whole, you can see the professionalism displayed by Cromwell and company to make entertaining adventure roll off the pages that generally utilizes its 101-minute runtime for suitable pacing that makes most of the right moves to set a place among the classics to watch in eight-decade cinema of a fantasy that all can enjoy within kingdoms and the duality and duplicity of people.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Farmer Takes a Wife.

Review #2012: The Farmer Takes a Wife.

Cast: 

Janet Gaynor (Molly Larkins), Henry Fonda (Dan Harrow), Charles Bickford (Jotham Klore), Slim Summerville (Fortune Friendly), Andy Devine (Elmer Otway), Roger Imhof (Samson 'Sam' Weaver), Jane Withers (Della), Margaret Hamilton (Lucy Gurget), Sig Ruman (Blacksmith), and John Qualen (Sol Tinker) Directed by Victor Fleming (#159 - The Wizard of Oz and #569 - Gone with the Wind)

Review: 

For all of the films I have seen, I wonder if I have perhaps not given a proper spotlight to certain names in the classic era of Hollywood, or at the very least the 1930s. Victor Fleming wasn't just the director of 1939's The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind, you know. Fleming had got his start as a cameraman in the 1910s, but it is probably most interesting that he also once served an assignment to teach at Columbia University, specifically teaching Military Cinematography, due to the U.S. Army needing it for the efforts in World War I. Some of the members in that program that Fleming helped teach involved future names such as Josef von Sternberg, Ernest B. Schoedsack, and Lewis Milestone. Fleming made his feature directing debut with When the Clouds Roll By (1919). Overall, he made a variety of adventure and comedy films, with his association with MGM in the 1930s being particularly memorable, such as with Captains Courageous (1937); Fleming died at the age of 59 in 1949, having directed over three dozen films. The film is based on the 1934 play of the same name, which had been done by Marc Connelly and Frank B. Elser, which in of itself was based on the 1929 novel Rome Haul that had been written by Walter D. Edmonds; Henry Fonda and June Walker served as the leads for the production, which ran for a time on Broadway. Connelly and Elser wrote the screenplay alongside Edwin J. Burke. In case one didn't know, the Erie Canal was a really big deal when it came to navigating waterways, which started upon its completion in 1825. Of course, in real life, the railroad only overcome the competition with the canal in the early 20th century. The film was remade as a musical comedy in 1953 by 20th Century Fox with Betty Grable and Dale Robertson as the leads.

Admittedly, it is more of a curiosity than a real treat, but it is serviceable at 91 minutes for those who like mildly charming romances, one that is filled with plenty of recognizable faces for those who are familiar with vintage films (whether for character actors or in general). It doesn't pull anything particularly memorable when it comes to showing the future that is yet to come with farming, but it moseys about with general decency to make things matter enough. Gaynor was in the midst of transition, one who was still a name presence in the mid-1930s but was seeing the times change when it came to audience preferences (two months before the release of the film, Fox Film Corporation, which she had been with since the mid-1920s, became 20th Century Fox due to a merger), which can loosely be defined as "wholesome". Fonda had been active in the stage since 1925 that had started in his native Nebraska, which eventually took him to Broadway. He was picked for the role after Fox tried to pursue Gary Cooper and Joel McCrea and failed. It is evident, even in his debut film, where he would become a future star, in part because of his sincerity, which manages to come through in a way that somehow outmatches Gaynor and her attempts at playful vulnerability. Their coupling is a gradual one, with his balanced sense of sentimentality for the soil going with her stubborn spirit for the canal that is basically a reckoning for each to make up their minds of who they are. Inevitable as it may seem, at least the resolution is one you could buy between the two. Bickford was mauled by a lion and nearly killed while filming another movie that came out in 1935, which led to him being more of a character presence the rest of his career. Evidently, Spencer Tracy (a regular presence at Fox since 1930 that was noted more by the critics than the audiences for his films) was originally cast in the role Bickford inherited, since Tracy was taken out, reinstated, and then released from the role when he got out of his contract for Fox (he would sign with MGM in the spring of 1935 and the rest is history). At any rate, Bickford makes a solid heavy, belligerent and willing to play along with what is needed. The others make for solid relief in parts, whether that involves the dependable Devine or Hamilton (who had appeared in the play with Fonda). They make the canal life at the very least one not of bland caricature, since the film is at least lightly funny without panhandling your attention. As a whole, the film moves through the motions of friendly 19th century romance with the pacing of soil being planted gently onto the ground, one handled with general efficiency from director and crew to make a tolerable experience, with the talent of Fonda and the future that would come from him being apparent at that moment in time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Hooper.

Review #2011: Hooper.

Cast: 

Burt Reynolds (Sonny Hooper), Sally Field (Gwen Doyle), Jan-Michael Vincent (Delmore "Ski" Shidski), Brian Keith (Jocko Doyle), Robert Klein (Roger Deal), John Marley (Max Berns), James Best (Cully), Alfie Wise (Tony), Adam West (himself), and Terry Bradshaw (Brawler) Directed by Hal Needham (#033 - Smokey and the Bandit, #034 - The Cannonball Run, and #945 - Smokey and the Bandit II)

Review: 

The stuntman does not get enough respect, if you think about it. They work hard in a profession where the danger can be apparent for any type of stunt, especially in the old days (Shark (1969) saw a stuntman get attacked and killed by a great white shark and then the producers put the footage in the film and change the title to reflect that...and that film had Reynolds as star). Yakima Canutt was the first stuntman to win an Academy Award, you know, being awarded an honorary one in 1967; it was he who performed the famous drop stunt in Stagecoach (1939). Of course, I mention this because of the fact that I am talking about a movie made by a former stuntman in Hal Needham with a star in Reynolds that was known for doing his own stunts. It was the second film in the career of Needham, who I'm sure we all know and well from Smokey and the Bandit, released one year prior to this film in 1977. The original basis for the film was set in 1975 with Lamont Johnson (best known for TV productions more than his films, which included The Last American Hero (1973)) slated to direct it for Warner Bros., but delays related to the dispute over the original title (The Stuntman) eventually led to Needham becoming involved (incidentally, that film that caused the name dispute, named The Stunt Man, was released in 1980). The screenplay was done by Thomas Rickman and Bill Kerby, while the story was done by Walt Green and Walter S. Herndon. This was the second film with Needham and Reynolds, who were such good friends with each other that it served as one of the inspirations for the dynamic in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019). After the film, Needham would direct seven further feature films (with a handful of TV productions, but we are only talking about his run that ended with Rad in 1986), four of which had Reynolds as a star, albeit with mixed returns.

The following organizations are listed in the credits: the Stuntmen’s Association of Motion Pictures, Inc., Black Stuntmen’s Association of Hollywood, Stuntwomen’s Association, Society of Professional Stuntwomen and Stunts Unlimited. It is definitely a movie made by someone that wants to show perspective in the stuntman in all of the strange ways possible: fun, if not painful when handled incorrectly. At his best, Reynolds had the charisma to make whatever he said come off with wonderful timing, and for the most part, it is true here in a film that is probably more charming than funny, a good ole' boy movie that one is already familiar with if they like stuff such as W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings (1975) or Smokey and the Bandit. But beneath the humor is a movie that has one thing stick out among the stunts: everything is but a fleeting moment, and it always helps to take care of oneself when something of us (whether that involves a profession of risk-taking or say, being a teacher) reaches its end. So yes, it is a movie that hones what Needham seems to like most in filmmaking when it comes to staging crashes in quality spectacle while having the backdrop of moviemaking drama that would be right at home with something like, say, Souls for Sale (1923). Reynolds is self-deprecating and self-aware enough to make charm count double more than if it was a random actor told to play the role to generic macho levels. Inside the freewheeling spirit of a man who cracks jokes with a younger presence meant to take the place of guys like him is someone who has to grasp with just what he is going to do at the moment where everything he cares about goes in a flash being more than just "away in the distance". So yes, beyond the timely instances of people playing games on the highway and having goofball barfights to go with rocket cars is a movie that has the semblance of caring about the stunt person with some sort of heart on its sleeve. Reynolds, who would know more than anyone about having to learn for years what it really meant to be an presence in demand, handles things in the purest sense of charm, is what I am saying. Sure, the dynamic between him and Field is probably not as involving as their last pair-up in a film (the aforementioned Bandit), but they are still ideal in the winning sense of looking like people you would believe could share a room together without straining for words. Vincent is not so much a hotshot newcomer as an inevitability, one who seems totally fine with the idea of seeking the thrill of stunt performance to make himself a name in a town that will use him as they please until the end (if you think about it, Reynolds trying to make his mark with Vincent as basically living the last part of his dream through him seems familiar to those who like to live their fantasy through an actor they see in film). Evidently, the character Klein plays is based on Peter Bogdanovich, who directed Reynolds in At Long Last Love (1975) and Nickelodeon (1976), and Needham worked on the latter film as a stunt double for Reynolds. There is a story that Needham told once about a planned stunt where he would fall through a tree and Bogdanovich asked if he could go any higher, with Needham responding with "I can go as high as you like. You just have to keep adding zeroes to the number on that cheque." Needless to say, it is evident where Klein is coming from as the heel, and he does fine with it. Keith and his old rascal persona makes for engaging support when it comes to seeing how age treats the old hellraisers, while Best (a regular presence in television and film for a handful of decades) provides an amiable dynamic in parts with Reynolds. The film labors itself to relative familiarity by the time you are at the end of its 99 minute runtime, but there are plenty of familiar films that turn out pretty good because of the showmanship displayed in making it seem fitting to watch without waving away what you could see coming (in other words, a punch in the face is only as fun as how much it seems earned to watch play out). If the aforementioned Bandit film was like a deep-fried entree, Hooper is basically dessert, one that has a suitable conviction of showmanship to go with a few charming moments for classic Reynolds fun, which means one's enjoyment of it will basically ride on how much they roll with the stunts that Needham and company wish to pull off.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Winchester '73.

Review #2010: Winchester '73.

Cast: 

James Stewart (Lin McAdam), Shelley Winters (Lola Manners), Dan Duryea (Johnnie "Waco Johnnie" Dean), Stephen McNally (Henry "Dutch Henry" Brown), Millard Mitchell (Frankie "High-Spade Frankie" Wilson), Charles Drake (Steve Miller), John McIntire (Joe Lamont), Will Geer (Wyatt Earp), Jay C. Flippen (Sergeant Wilkes), Rock Hudson (Young Bull), John Alexander (Jack Riker), and Steve Brodie (Wesley) Directed by Anthony Mann (#1048 - He Walked by Night and #1408 - El Cid)

Review: 

"The very idea of changing my whole thing from the sort of shy, fumbling fellow to the western was just my work. It's all hard work and dedication, to be able to make a go of it. And those were the things offered to me."

James Stewart believed that the real change added in being more of a presence in Westerns when it came to a new phase in his career was the increase of vulnerability, one that differed him from presences in the same genre such as John Wayne. It probably helps that Stewart was now in his forties and was getting back into the thick of more roles in film since his return from serving in the Army Air Forces during World War II, whether that involved It's a Wonderful Life (1946) or Call Northside 777 (1948). As such, 1950 (just as it was in 1948) saw him in numerous starring roles: this film, Broken Arrow, Harvey and The Jackpot; Stewart got to do the film with Universal in tandem with them making Harvey, by the way. Stewart worked with a wide variety of directors over his career, but he would work with Mann on eight films from 1950 to 1958, five of which were Westerns. The film was written by Borden Chase (brought in by Mann to do a re-write and best known as the co-writer of Red River) and Robert L. Richards with a story by Stuart N. Lake, and it was a script that had been bounced around a bit before it became a film, which evidently had Fritz Lang tapped to direct at one point before that went down the wayside, and it was Stewart who had picked Mann (after seeing scenes from Devil's Doorway) to direct in the first place; Mann had done a share of noirs before breaking in better with Westerns, which he did a handful in the 1950s. For the rest of the decade, Stewart would be involved in a variety of box office hits while having a fair share of time spent in the Western, which would serve him just as well in the next decade. 

It's a pretty good movie, rounding all of the bases that you could see in a routine Western while having a main character with absorbing intensity. The odyssey on just how much one gun can affect the lives of others in the West is a curious one, one told with visual acuity. It is not just some frazzled innocent looking for his gun, this is a trip of bloodshed because of the human quality of wanting something so bad they could kill for it. In a row of gunslingers of familiarity and blood, the one who knows how to adapt to the situation is the one who come out alive with the weapon in their hand, which makes for a film that likes to summarize atmosphere for effect that seems fresh that has been used as an argument for starting its own wave of Westerns. The hero is not just a symbol of something decent in the West or something, now he is just a man looking to stay safe on the frontier, by any means necessary.  You see many types of people here, trying to go with the flow of the wind that get touched by the power of the gun, whether that involves Indian traders or would-be robbers, and it makes a riveting odyssey. 

Stewart clearly prepared for the role to the best of his abilities, right down to practicing handling a weapon (obviously he did not do the trick shots in the film, but you get the idea). He proves brilliant in a role that could've simply been one of blandness with an actor less determined to show vulnerability or interest in playing it straight down the line. His odyssey matters to how we care about the layers that get revealed about why it is more than just an odyssey for a gun, which makes the final confrontation (with a lack of music) that much better. McNally makes a quality presence to counteract him as the adversary, efficient in establishing the threat without missing a beat. Winters was quoted as not particularly understanding the role she played, once being quoted as asking, "What does that tell you about the values of that picture? If I hadn't been in it, would anybody have noticed?" Granted, it is hard being the one prominent woman in a cast, but she does fine with it anyways, a weary presence of battered patience.  Mitchell and Duryea make solid supporting presences to the action on either side of the coin in the odyssey (mostly for the latter, as one always likes the adversary taking a licking). The film is generally involving for its 92 minute runtime in showing what really mattered in the West without falling right away to easy tricks or bland dialogue, instead treating one to a patient story about just what it took to survive with more than just a weapon in stock. It takes a certain impulse and certain timing to differentiate one gunslinger from another, which is captured to lean effectiveness by Mann and company here.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

You and Me.

Review #2009: You and Me.

Cast:

Sylvia Sidney (Helen), George Raft (Joe Dennis), Barton MacLane (Mickey), Harry Carey (Mr. Morris), Roscoe Karns (Cuffy), George E. Stone (Patsy), Warren Hymer (Gimpy), Robert Cummings (Jim), Adrian Morris (Knucks), and Roger Gray (Bath House) Directed by Fritz Lang (#333 - M, #500 - Metropolis, #1365 - Scarlet Street, #1619 - Destiny)

Review: 

As the story goes, Norman Krasna wrote up a story at the request of Paramount Pictures that would have George Raft as a star. Krasna, for those who don't know, had gone from an ambition to do journalism to work his way into becoming a drama critic before moving onto playwrighting to then becoming a studio writer, first with Columbia before moving onto others such as Paramount. In fact, one of his ideas for a script would become the basis for what became Fury (1936) at MGM, with Krasna receiving a co-credit and a subsequent Oscar nomination. Important to the story of the film that eventually became a film is that Krasna wanted to direct it. However, Carole Lombard read the script and found it interesting (after plans had been done to have Raft star with Helen Burgess), which then made Paramount want someone to direct who, well, had experience directing, because Raft and Lombard wanted someone with experience. At any rate, Krasna was let go from directing, which was meant to go for Richard Wallace before it eventually landed to Fritz Lang, as asked by Sylvia Sidney (who had starred in Fury and You Only Live Once (1937), as directed by Lang), who was brought on to star with Raft. Lang later called the film his first flop ("deservedly") while saying that he had wanted to make a "didactic" film while having influence from Bertolt Brecht, a good friend of his that had made a theatre style called Lehrstück that basically was a play that would teach you something. Virginia Van Upp (a child actress-turned-script writer/reader/casting director/agent) is credited with the screenplay, although Jack Moffitt did uncredited work as well. As for Krasna, he would eventually get his chance to direct, albeit in the 1940s with Princess O'Rourke (1943), which he also wrote.

The movie is an odd curiosity, that much is certain. It is probably not too hard to see why the movie did not make much of an impact with audiences, because it was an odd film to have a guy like Raft star in a film with Lang that is more of a quirky crime film rather than straight drama. Of course, it is a decent movie, one that is fairly watchable if one has the patience for a film that is just a bit off center when it comes to teaching about just where crime really can go when it comes to a businessman who wants ex-cons to work for him to give them a second chance at things that might as well serve as more of a means to one's end in streetwise foundation. Oh, and there is a bit of a romance alongside things as well. Raft once described his ambitions when it came to acting as simply wanting "to be me", which basically meant he wasn't trying to just stick to roles similar to his presence-making turn in Scarface (1932), which led to a handful of suspensions from the studios he worked with, since he did not want really want to play heels (hell, he was a dancer before becoming an actor). As such, his charm is basically room temperature, which means he reacts to the situations around him with the mildest of reactions, as if the only thing that can faze him is being behind the ball when the final score is up (of which I mean the score of life). Besides, with a passionate Sidney (who appeared a handful of gangster films in the time period, with some exceptions) around, one finds that the movie moves along well enough already. Her well-meaning procession of foolhardy attempts to keep the one she loves and the secret she holds just as dear firmly away from each other, and she does the best to make the dilemma matter (making a case of "you dummie" into "oh, poor dummie"). Of course, the real highlight is a sequence near the end in trying to point out just how much one really could make when robbing a store when detailing all of the costs that come with the setup, which she handles with splendid timing that makes a simple "go home and think about coming to work on time tomorrow!" all the more fun. The supporting folks are mostly there to fill the chorus of would-be returnees to crime, which work in small bits of charm that mostly come from Hymer and his demeanor. Maybe there is a sense of irony to see Carey, an actor known for his rugged frame actor (generally seen in Westerns) playing an owner who likes to hire parolees. At any rate, it is an strange curiosity, one that isn't merely a crime drama or a straight romance because of the fact that it likes to dwell on the absurdity that comes with trying to find where the real game is at when it comes to something as simple as "you and me". As a whole, it may stretch itself a bit thin for 94 minutes, but it is firmly watchable and certainly something that should be considered for viewing among the curiosities that made the career of Fritz Lang all the more involving for what he did end up bringing to the screen in vision.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Angel (1937).

Review #2008: Angel.

Cast: 

Marlene Dietrich (Maria, Lady Barker / "Angel"), Herbert Marshall (Sir Frederick Barker), Melvyn Douglas (Anthony 'Tony' Halton), Edward Everett Horton (Graham), Ernest Cossart (Chris Wilton), Laura Hope Crews (the Grand Duchess Anna Dmitrievna), Herbert Mundin (Mr. Greenwood), and Dennie Moore (Emma MacGillicuddy Wilton) Produced and Directed by Ernst Lubitsch (#1026 - The Shop Around the Corner, #1358 - To Be or Not to Be, #1881 - The Love Parade)

Review: 

Ernst Lubitsch actually once was a production manager for Paramount Pictures, you know. Yes, when it comes to mainstream prominent names of directors running a studio, there really is just one name to consider, and Lubitsch didn't even last that long in the position. In fact, he did not last long after at Paramount after 1936, with this being his penultimate film there. Since 1928, he had made most (not all) of his features there, which went from The Patriot to Bluebeard's Eighth Wife. But not all directors can stay in one place, even if they do provide a touch of interest. Angel is also important in the discussion of Dietrich, because it was her last film with Paramount under contract, with her next feature not being until Destry Rides Again in 1939. The film was based on a play called Angyal by Melchoir Lengyel. Guy Bolton and Russell Medcraft wrote the film while Samson Raphaelson and Frederick Lonsdale wrote the screenplay. It was the only time she starred in a Lubitsch film, and she was paired with Marshall, who had starred in Lubitsch's Trouble in Paradise (1932), one of a handful of films he would do as a leading man (which included a good deal of romances). 

The touch that Lubitsch provides to making a quality light drama is to keep one's interest firmly upon these sophisticated people and the mishaps that makes romance one to amuse with rather than be afraid of it. It runs at a careful pace of 91 minutes that shows the dynamic that comes together in a love triangle that is seemingly more than two people and one's workload. It is the movie that shows just how much sense one is not going to make when it comes to the nature of men and women, with the latter being particularly apparent. Dietrich plays things with the solemn dignity required in a role that has her cherished in different ways when paired with Marshall or Douglas, which makes sense when you see the dynamics of marriage being contrasted with a night of odd adventure. She is vulnerable even in her grace that seems different her time spent with Josef von Sternberg when it comes to cherishment. Marshall (who appears last among the triangle, intentionally presented as such when it comes to a man presented as a "League of Nations" man) does pretty well as the middleman of romance, a gentleman that clearly has affection for his wife, but it is evident to see how much of his affection for his wife runs in tandem with his affection of his work, which works to the levels needed when it comes to the inevitable climax. Douglas fills the key piece of the triangle as the obsessive man struck between his connection with an old friend and the connection that he believes he has with someone that seems apt to be called "Angel". Simply put, it is charming to see one have a helpless obsession when it comes to what we know is coming with the inevitable confrontation over just what is going to happen with the choice of a woman. There is some comic relief when it comes to Horton and Crews, since one cannot have romance without onlookers present to see from afar that are just living in their element, which is probably best stated in a scene where a few butlers are taking back plates of food meant to be ate for a meal between the love triangle only to find that two of them did not eat a bite. By the time one has gotten to the end of the film in its lovely presentation of the inevitable of irrational decisions made in the name of passions, you have found that your time has been spent quite well, one where the director and the cast are working hand-in-hand in making sophisticated entertainment. It should make a good time for those who are interested in Lubitsch or Dietrich, that much is clear.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Goin' to Town.

Review #2007: Goin' to Town.

Cast: 

Mae West (Cleo Borden), Paul Cavanagh (Edward Carrington), Gilbert Emery (Winslow), Marjorie Gateson (Mrs. Crane Brittony), Tito Coral (Taho), Ivan Lebedeff (Ivan Valadov), Fred Kohler (Buck Gonzales), Monroe Owsley (Fletcher Colton), and Grant Withers (Young Stud) Directed by Alexander Hall.

Review: 

Mae West made twelve films as an actress, if you can believe that. She was 39 when she made her debut with Night after Night (1932), and it was a comic relief role that she wrote her own dialogue for. That isn't a surprise when you consider that the Brooklyn native, who had been involved in shows from a young age, had cultivated a reputation on the stage for several years before signing a short deal with Paramount Pictures. 1933 saw her rocket into film name status with the releases of She Done Him Wrong and I'm No Angel, both featuring her with Cary Grant. Her trip of stardom subsided after The Heat's On (1943), one of only two films that she did not contribute to the script or dialogue in any shape or form, although she continued to do work in the stage and clubs, free from the preening censor-happy boards that had hindered her later film work (let it be known that the only time I decry lewd amusement is when it isn't particularly funny, such as with, say, Myra Breckinridge). As such, Goin' to Town saw her write the screenplay based on a story by Marion Morgan and George B. Dowell. Not to be forgotten is Alexander Hall, a theatre actor from a young age who worked as a silent actor before eventually moving on to production of film with editing, assistant directing, and well, contract directing. He directed a handful of films from 1932 to 1956, with Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941) probably being his most notable feature.

The point of picking films on a whim is not so much to give a spotlight to just the best films one has to offer but doing films that, well, will give someone a spotlight worth talking about and then see what goes from there. As a 74-minute attempt at musical comedy, it is fine. West dominates one's attention with her mannerisms and some of her lines that seem to hit and miss in the idea of curtailed risqué, as if the idea of a woman trying to become a lady while having fun with the bounds of courtship needs to be toned in some sort of way. But West always seems on her element, one who simmers what would probably a bland pot of plot with a lesser actress and makes it a worthwhile time (how can one go wrong with lines such as "Juge, wherever there's a man concerned, I always do my best"?). Her fun is our fun, if you get around to it, as if in some ways you might want to enjoy a film like comfort food (note: please do not think of actors as food). She even tries the opera with a staging of Samson and Delilah, which is somewhat funny to consider. Emery is probably the most interesting of the supporting cast, probably because one has to really not try to make a butler / assistant seem bland, and he keeps things on the level. Cavanagh makes do with tolerable material of just being someone that looks like the kind of person that could tolerate the antics that come from West being West and vice versa (which basically means not looking annoyed to be on screen as a second banana); Owsley, meant to be a fool willing to do a loveless marriage, is fine in that regard when briefly with West. Gateson makes a quality adversary, one who ices things with West as if she was a pest that needed to be taken out of commission. As a whole, the movie has a few decent gags when it comes to West remarking upon what seems odd her to her in the idea of people and "manners" when it comes to what really matters for titles. It might not be the first film one should go with to look upon West, but it serves as a decent middle ground of watchable entertainment for those who are interested in seeing her at work, whether as writer or actor.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3.

Review #2006: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3.

Cast: 

Chris Pratt (Peter Quill / Star-Lord), Zoe Saldaña (Gamora), Dave Bautista (Drax the Destroyer), Karen Gillan (Nebula), Pom Klementieff (Mantis), Vin Diesel (Groot), Bradley Cooper (Rocket Raccoon), Will Poulter (Adam Warlock), Sean Gunn (Kraglin), Chukwudi Iwuji (the High Evolutionary), Linda Cardellini (Lylla), Nathan Fillion (Master Karja), Sylvester Stallone (Stakar Ogord), and Maria Bakalova (Cosmo) Written and Directed by James Gunn (#626 - Guardians of the Galaxy and #932 - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)

Review: 

"In the end, my love for Rocket, Groot, Gamora, Star-Lord, Yondu, Mantis, Drax, and Nebula—and some of the other forthcoming heroes—goes deeper than you guys can possibly imagine, and I feel they have more adventures to go on and things to learn about themselves and the wonderful and sometimes terrifying universe we all inhabit."

Admittedly, the first Guardians of the Galaxy (as adapted from the second incarnation of the comic series of the same name, which was created by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning) was a nice surprise when it came out in theaters in 2014. Sure, the Marvel push for a cinematic universe was already nine films in when it came out, but it wasn't hard for me to be surprised that a director I had not heard of managed to make a really neat adventure. Who wouldn't want something that sounds like a space epic ensemble? Of course, it's hard to not respect a director who also writes their own stuff, as was the case with James Gunn's prior two films with Slither (2006) and Super (2010). It set up other possible ideas for, well, other things, but the important thing that I remember most is that it had a sense of effervescent fun to it that was interesting without running into a joke just for the sake of it, with Gunn having an evident appreciation for these characters. The second film, released in 2017, was probably a sidestep direction in quality, but it did exactly what was required from a sequel in consistency (besides, as a resident Kurt Russell spokesman, I enjoyed him playing a villainous planet - such is life). Six years and appearances in varying quality and quantity (Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Avengers: Endgame (2019), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), and The Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special (2022) - look I can't watch everything), here we are with a third and final film with this dynamic of Gunn and company. Oh, and it is one of the films in Phase F-Oh hell, if you care about cinematic universes (or making fun of streaming like I do), go ahead, I'm just here for the fun.

I suppose the quality of the film depends on just how much imagination one has in comparison to the director when it comes to seeing the culmination of various stories that have come with these characters over the past nine years. As the longest of the three films at 150 minutes, it tries to cover as many bases as it feels it needs to do in the idea of finding new horizons without turning into the longest group hug ever, complete with stakes that are more emotional than grand. In short: it is a clever way to tie things around when it comes to the stories of these characters without making it a goodbye show or just a vehicle of over-spectacle. It does have a few moments that could be considered disturbing, but one will likely be ready for anything if they have seen enough films with the middle-ground rating of "PG-13", you might say (personally, I fall on the side of not criticizing movies that dare to push a bit when it comes to that rating that lets the audience decide rather than go trying to recommend coddling, but whatever). Besides, if you can handle the influx of staged sequences of action where people are getting beaten a bit, I think you can handle animals in a cage. When it comes to performances, each get their own respective moments to shine besides the influx of scenes spent with talking animals (these scenes of Rocket are voiced threefold, incidentally, with Cooper doing adolescence, S. Gunn doing the young version, and Noah Raskin doing him as a baby) that loops right in to one last ride for a number of folks. Of course, the fact that Gillan has had an arc that saw her go from a second-tier adversary in the first film to an actual fledged member of the team with worthwhile time to follow along with in levity that fits quite well. Bautista, to the surprise of nobody, still provides the warmth required to balance the ensemble in timing and physicality in what makes for a worthy endnote (who among us would want to put on so much makeup forever, I suppose), which naturally makes for amusing banter with Klementieff and her useful timing again. Cooper carries the film along with pathos that makes it more than just a voice on motion-captured animation, one that makes it clear just how integral he has been to the series. The flashback sequences build that climax to where it has to go, and Cooper helps that make sense. Saldana does fine in essentially playing the straight one among the folks (while reminding of the middling idea of resurrecting her character from the dead in the first place), while Pratt holds his own with self-interest and charm, one that reminds me that just knows how to time things with general presence. Poulter makes for an amusing adversary when it comes to the mannerisms that come from a flying gold painted, uh, doof. 

Do I regard the movie as the best of the three? Well, that is an interesting point of discussion, because it probably has the best villain of the three films, that is for sure. Iwuji plays it exceedingly well in the art of irredeemable villainy that is compelling to see in all of his brilliant decadence without any ploy of sympathy or false note, which is necessary when it comes being more than just a villain who likes to pick on animals. His pursuit of perfection in the face of reality and the things around him is far more interesting when it feels in sync with no pretenses (so yes, sometimes you can have villains who might seem sympathetic, but this is not one of those days, thank heavens). It is a movie with worthwhile staging when it comes to action (such as one longshot scene) along with dialogue that works in tandem with the music choices to make a vibrant film that is more a resolution to new things rather than just a definitive be-all end-all film, which leaves the folks in a comfortable spot without playing it too safe (aside from maybe one post-credits scene). In the end, the movie is pretty good in the ways you would expect from a third film in a series that closes the loop on what had started in 2014 that will make most of the folks happy (or sad if you really get into it) with what they've seen over the years, whether that is warm enjoyment in the characters or in general.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.