The Penalty (1920).

Review #1617: The Penalty.

Cast: 

Lon Chaney (Blizzard), Claire Adams (Barbara Ferris), Charles Clary (Dr. Ferris), James Mason (Frisco Pete), Milton Ross (Lichtenstein), Ethel Grey Terry (Rose), Kenneth Harlan (Dr. Wilmot Allen), and Doris Pawn (Barbary Nell) Directed by Wallace Worsley (#850 - The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

Review: 

"Between pictures, there is no Lon Chaney."

There were plenty of icons and actors in the 1920s, but when it comes to ones with the talent to back up their reputation, no one can quite match up to the "Man of a Thousand Faces" with Lon Chaney. Born to deaf parents, he found a talent in pantomime that made for an early career on the stage and vaudeville in the early 20th century, although he eventually became hooked on entering film (doing so in 1913). Although he started in small parts, he eventually grew to character roles while even writing/directing his own shorts (the last venture he reportedly directed was The Phantom of the Opera (1925), although he was left uncredited alongside other directors). In a time where actors needed to be adept with their own makeup, Chaney excelled. The Miracle Man (1919) helped give him prominence, and the advent of the 1920s only made that more clear, as one could highlight from his future films, which involved him playing monsters and masterminds over several films (for which some survive, like the aforementioned Opera film) before his death in 1930 (his son would take up acting not long after, becoming a dependable presence in his own right). Can you imagine any modern film doing the challenge that Chaney had to do for this film? He strapped his ankles to his hips while his knees were into special leather stumps that were strapped into the body while his jacket held his feet - and he had to do it over and over again, because Chaney could only be in the stumps for a limited amount of time (for obvious reasons - searching the Internet makes it look even more grueling), so there are no camera tricks needed - originally the film had an epilogue that showed the audience Chaney walking down the stairs on his own two feet (somehow, the footage ended up lost). The film was written by Charles Kenyon and Philip Lonergan, which is an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Gouverneur Morris (if one desires to check out the book to compare and contrast, you're in luck, since it is available to seek out on the Internet). This was the first film that Chaney would star in with director Worsley (who was briefly an actor before turning to directing for eight years), and they would do five films together, which included the famed The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923). 

What we have is a film that uses its star to wonderful effect to elevate melodramatic material to enjoyable entertainment, a charming and gruesome time one could look up any time they desire for public domain night (or day). Think about it: how many movies involve a legless mastermind of crime that wants revenge on the doctor that amputated him as a boy along with robbing San Francisco with riots along with an alliance with certain anarchists. Oh, and he just happens to have an interest in a mistress that can peddle with him for the piano alongside an operating room (so he can have someone's amputated legs grafted to him?!), a trap door, and an armory that also contains people making straw hats while folks decry him for being an amputee (uh...) and a secret service agent tails him. Playing a tortured monster type would obviously be drawn out for several performances in Chaney's career, and he has the charisma required to balance mastermind and occasional tenderness without falling prey to a silly plot that would have undermined a less interesting actor. He moves around with tenacity that dominates everyone else in watchability in a wise fashion, since the other folks turn out to be puppets anyway. Adams and Terry are okay in the casual sense of needing to act with Chaney for touches of romance, whether spent in the art room (where he manipulates to be a model for the devil after the fall) or in his own domain. Clary (playing a doctor that not only amputated a boy's legs unnecessarily but also forgot that he had a head injury too) plays middling authority with pithy interest, but it surely works better than with Harlan as his assistant (who mostly serves as foil to Adams and her art talent because...). Mason (an American actor that usually played henchmen and cowboy roles) does fine with the sniveling adversary role that is needed for a certain sequence at the end for effect. By the time the film ends its time at 90 minutes, one will have found plenty of interesting enjoyment from Chaney that its redemption plot will come off with no real hitches (aside from the obvious moral part at the end). If one desires something involving crime, maniacal mayhem with an actor at the helm putting all of his effort into a role with a challenge like no other, this century old film will certainly fit the bill well for a silent era that had plenty of curiosity to go around.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Ice Harvest.

Review #1616: The Ice Harvest.

Cast: 

John Cusack (Charlie Arglist), Billy Bob Thornton (Vic Cavanaugh), Connie Nielsen (Renata Crest), Randy Quaid (Bill Guerrard), Oliver Platt (Pete Van Heuten), Mike Starr (Roy Gelles), Ned Bellamy (Sidney), T.J. Jagodowski (Officer Tyler), and David Pasquesi (Councilman Williams) Directed by Harold Ramis (#138 - Bedazzled (2000), #208 - Caddyshack, #342 - Groundhog Day, and #804 - National Lampoon's Vacation)

Review: 

"This movie is about people who've lost any sense of meaning in their lives."

One wonders where the time goes when it comes to films that can be defined by one word: "should". But why don't we do a few pleasantries first, since this does fall somewhat into the yuletide spirit (a sort of alternative to the alternative of films set on Christmas Eve), and it can be said that there are some promising names involved. This was the tenth of eleven films directed by Harold Ramis, although it is one of four that he did not also write the script for, with writers Richard Russo (a fellow novelist in his own right) and Robert Benton responsible for the script (they had worked together previously on Twilight seven years prior, since Benton directed that film alongside adapting one of Russo's books into a film). They wrote the film as an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Scott Philips, which was written in 2000 as his first work (incidentally, the Wichita native had done a brief spell as a screenwriter), which he thought was unfilmable (he ended up liking the adaptation, so that is one relief). A book review from the New York Times had attracted Benton and Russo to doing a script, and Ramis eventually was brought in to do a film made with cheaper budgeting than usual for director and stars for Focus Features (who greenlighted it after six weeks for $14 million). There were a few differences made from novel to screen, such as the time (originally 1979) and the dynamic between Cusack and Platt's character (which went from brother-in-laws to friends who each were married to the same person).

So yes, there is that magic word that goes for this film. It should be better, honestly. Namely, it should be funnier, but if that option seems a bit locked out, then one should hope for a darker movie instead. This was the only film Ramis did that resembled a film noir, and it sure is a shame to see those results play out here. Simply put, it is a shaggy dog noir that seems to parade itself for 89 minutes with pacing equivalent to a fish in a tiny glass bowl. Dissapointment has never tasted so cold, particularly because one should know better when it comes to making an interesting experience with a cast like this. The performances are here and there, fleeting in those moments of actual, meaningful, useful, time to highlight. Cusack does fine in digging through the molasses, one who mixes smarm with dogged hope in the face of seedier folks around him. In other words, he comes off fine being the most likable one of the group. Thornton comes and goes with a lead heart towards scuzziness that seems to merit more interest, as if somehow he seems more interesting to see in the seen/unseen aspects of below-the-belt demeanor. Nielsen is okay, but one doesn't really seem grabbed by her as any sort of fatale presence, where one feels that they are instead waiting for the train to come in instead, as if vacancy is the one thing needed in a quasi-noir. Platt turns out to have the most presence in the film (obvious when playing a drunk), but while he is amusing in parts, one tunes him out gradually in the same way they might do if having to see an intoxicated fellow around them for nearly an hour. Of course there is Quaid, who in theory could have an interesting performance in booming presence....he doesn't show up until the last twenty minutes, and one wishes for something more from seeing him in one room and just that. Starr and Bellamy do fine in those small parts of amusement (with the former relegated to mostly voice duty, such as a bit when trapped in a box), so there is that for a positive, in the sense that mediocrity doesn't strike in every aspect of the movie. As a whole, it is an okay movie that should know better, one that seems vacant in either comic or dark aspirations, a movie that will come and go for 89 minutes with the bare minimum in shaggy dog ambition that is more bland than bleak to really be interesting to talk about beyond just the simple word of "should" to describe it. In other words, it should be more interesting, it should have a better pace, it should be anything else than it ultimately turns out to be, and it should be recommended for those who have an average streak with talented folks that should do better.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Edward Scissorhands.

Review #1615: Edward Scissorhands.

Cast:
Johnny Depp (Edward Scissorhands), Winona Ryder (Kim Boggs), Dianne Wiest (Peg Boggs), Anthony Michael Hall (Jim), Kathy Baker (Joyce), Robert Oliveri (Kevin Boggs), Conchata Ferrell (Helen), Caroline Aaron (Marge), Dick Anthony Williams (Officer Allen), O-Lan Jones (Esmeralda), Vincent Price (The Inventor), and Alan Arkin (Bill Boggs) Directed by Tim Burton (#040 - Batman, #107 - Beetlejuice, #132 - Alice in Wonderland, #196 - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, #262 - Corpse Bride, #316 - Batman Returns, #969 - Planet of the Apes (2001), #1257 - Pee-wee's Big Adventure, and #1295 - Sleepy Hollow)

Review:
"I think if you've ever had that feeling of loneliness, of being an outsider, it never quite leaves you. You can be happy or successful or whatever, but that thing still stays within you."

Distinct is such an easy word to use when talking about a movie or the director behind it, but it is definitely a word that can be used to go with the career of Tim Burton, who has directed 19 films in 35 years of feature filmmaking. A native of Burbank, California, he had an creative ambition from a young age (inspired by the works of writers like Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss), whether that involved making his own films or doing stop motion animation, with his first short being made with The Island of Doctor Agor (1971) at the age of 13. He described himself as an average student, but his passion for drawing served well enough for his studies of character animation at California Institute of the Arts (a place known for cultivating talent in animation). His short Stalk of the Celery Monster (1979) attracted attention from Disney, who brought him in for an apprenticeship. His time with the studio was mixed in output, in that while he served as an animator alongside various other spots like concept artist on a few films (such as The Fox and the Hound), the management style of Disney did not fully gel with what they wanted from Burton. He did, however, have time to do two animated shorts with them with Vincent (1982) and Frankenweenie (1984), the first being important in its tribute to Vincent Price (who narrated the film) while the latter (which Disney fired him for making a film too dark) helped inspire Paul Reubens to want to hire him as director for Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (1985). This led to...well, I think you know the rest of that story, but it never hurts to reiterate the respect he had when it came time for his fourth feature film here, one that is clearly not wary to studio interference or muddled tone. It matters to mention the upbringing of Burton, since the title character started as a drawing that Burton did as a teenager that reflected his isolated feelings when growing up in the suburbs. Burton (who has called the film his most personal and favorite) approached novelist Caroline Thompson to write a script based on that drawing (which an inspiration being a dog that she adored) that came together in three weeks. As a fable, it takes inspiration from a variety of media, whether that involved fairy tales like Beauty and the Beast or classic horror like The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923). Some casting choices were done quite quickly in the case of Wiest, Ryder, and Price, while casting consideration for the lead proved interesting, since 20th Century Fox desired Tom Cruise (he desired a happier ending alongside asking too many questions about the character) and Gary Oldman rejected the role, but it eventually went to Depp (Burton's first choice), who at the time was known for his starring role on 21 Jump Street (1987-90). It would be the first of numerous collaborations between Depp and Burton over the next two decades.

There are numerous ways one could describe the film, and the easiest one I can say is to call it my new favorite Burton film. Someday, I will have caught up to each and every Burton film, but it will be hard to find ones that are more effective in its soothing effectiveness in making a great fable about what it means to feel or be an outsider. Simply put, I would argue it is a gem worth a watch, preferably during the winter season. It is a triumph of imagination, one that shows the best qualities of Burton in delivering tender efficiency when it matters most, handling style with drama equally as well in delicacy that stirs fascination as well as other certain emotions, and it all comes from a romantic drama with a fair touch of humor that comes from placing a man with a special quality to him in a weird place (as described by Burton) like suburbia life with pastel delicacy. Belonging in one place is hard enough, so trying to find one's touch in society as a whole is another task of difficulty and alienation, which works just as well for a teenager as well as an adult. Depp has the most interesting task, one where he has less than 200 words to say through the whole film while in a leather suit and makeup (credit Stan Winston for those wonderful hands) in Tampa, Florida. It is a great performance, one that delicately handles the struggle of outsider individuality that is tender with innocence like one might see with an old pet but one that resonates with us so easily in the expressions that Depp brings to the role, no doubt inspired by the silent film era. Ryder does well in wide-eyed simmering charm that rolls differently from what one had seen from her before (namely highlights like Beetlejuice or...other works like Heathers), and her scenes with Depp really do bring the film together in soulful mercy, particularly with the ice sculpture scene (or ice dance, if you prefer). Wiest does just as well, having a well-meaning charm and grace to carry the film for those moments where Depp doesn't say much, which goes with Arkin and his momentary time spent together with Wiest. Hall (a few years removed from those John Hughes films) does what is needed from a jock in being a fair mark in jock spirit with menace that sets the alienation on the heels quickly. Baker lends well to dazzled humor and curiosity when paired with Depp to headline the suburb group of actors when it gets to where it needs to go by the time the 105 minutes are up without needing an easy out for resolution. Obviously the last one to highlight is the man making his last appearance in a motion picture with Price (who died of lung cancer three years later), who still has the right track on elegance within that clear expression, and it is the death scene that seals the deal for just how soulfully effective the film is as a whole, because of how he weaves that scene with Depp. And then of course there is that musical score by Danny Elfman, no stranger to memorable collaborations with Burton. It proves quite haunting, one that will stick in your mind after it stops (I know that for a fact, because I inadvertently have had one cue from this film in my head for years as it has been used in a small selection of trailers). Thirty years have passed since its release, but it certainly has a place within the works of Tim Burton when it comes to his distinct storytelling and style and the actors that have taken part in his films for decades that have lent to such memorable experiences and moments, whether involving an ice dance or something much more bittersweet in a classic.

I know there was a review already done at midnight, but I was most definitely looking forward to making sure that this was a special day as it has been for December 20th in each of the last ten years (since there has been a review for each one). Besides, this is a momentous occasion for the numbers - Tim Burton is only the seventh director to have ten of his films covered on Movie Night, and that is a most interesting distinction to have for a place that desires to cover as much as they can of directors that interest them (new voices count under that too, obviously). However, it works out for 2021, I am thankful to have created a haven for me to write about films that have interested me from the director to the star to the premise as a whole and any suggestions for something to cover or look into (such as a re-visit or two...) is greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Lost World.

Review #1614: The Lost World.

Cast: 

Bessie Love (Paula White), Lewis Stone (Sir John Roxton), Lloyd Hughes (Edward Malone), Wallace Beery (Professor Challenger), Arthur Hoyt (Professor Summerlee), Alma Bennett (Gladys Hungerford), Virginia Brown Faire (Marquette the half-caste girl), Bull Montana (Apeman/Gomez), Francis Finch-Smiles (Austin), Jules Cowles (Zambo), Margaret McWade (Mrs. Challenger), and George Bunny (Colin McArdle) Directed by Harry O. Hoyt.

Review: 

"I have wrought my simple plan

If I give one hour of joy

To the boy who's half a man

Or the man who's half a boy."

What better time is there to cover a creature feature than a pioneering one? Oh sure, there is much to highlight with films such as King Kong (1933) or Mighty Joe Young (1949), but each film has one striking similarity: They all had effects work done by Willis H. O'Brien. The Oakland native worked in a variety of fields in his youth, which ranged from cattle ranches to cowboy before finding an interest in dinosaurs. He eventually honed a talent for architecture into sculpting, and a model-making session with dinosaurs and brief footage led to his first chance with a short feature. The result was The Dinosaur and the Missing Link: A Prehistoric Tragedy (1915), which garnered notice from Thomas Edison (inventor and businessman with his pioneering film company). O'Brien would make more work with dinosaurs, with a key highlight being The Ghost of Slumber Mountain (1918) that he directed and starred in (alongside producer Herbert M. Dawley), which showed live actors and stop-motion creatures together (the short was sadly cut from the original print of 40 minutes to 12, and only seven further minutes have been recovered). There are quite a few firsts with this film: It was the first full-length film with stop-motion animation (with regard to the creatures), and it was the first film to be shown in an airplane during flight. It is the fact that one can access the film at all that is just (thankful, since it has existed in numerous cut versions over 95 years, with various versions that ranged from 60 to 90 minutes (because of one attempt to destroy the copies of the film to make the effects more exclusive when King Kong came around) - in any case, one can now see the film (it was intended (originally it lasted 106 minutes, but now it runs at 110) because of recent restorations (which combined portions of 11 film elements to make the most complete version), and it happens to lurk in the public domain. The film was written by Marion Fairfax (listed as screenplay and editorial direction), that was an adaptation of the 1912 novel of the same name written by Arthur Conan Doyle (writer of the Sherlock Holmes series of adventures, which equally were inspired by a real person). One can't forget about the director in all this. Hoyt (listed as providing "dramatic direction" in the credits) was a screenwriter and director over the course of three decades from the silent era to 1945 (doing a variety of films until 1933 alongside shorts) while being a graduate of Yale University in literature. O'Brien (listed as research and technical director) would do over a dozen films with effects work in decades of work (despite being hampered at times in raising funds to do what he wanted), and he liked to add a rubber bladder to his models at times to make them seem more alive. His work (helped by three associates for the models while he did animation) was grueling, spending hours at a time just to get a few seconds of footage with his metal skeleton, rubber skinned creatures, and test footage done in 1922 was shown by Doyle to the Society of American Magicians, who he apparently wanted to trick into believing the footage was actually of living dinosaurs (which worked for a time).

There were numerous adaptations of the book in the following decades (including one with minimal input from O'Brien directed by Irwin Allen), although none have matched the power of the original. The film begins with the esteemed author Doyle introducing the story, with a brief poem delivered by intertitle (as noted above), before it moves to the story it sets itself up before dinosaurs come around, which involve Hughes' reporter character yearning to prove himself (and face death) to win the affections of a girl. It just happens to coincide with a professor who claims to have seen living dinosaurs within the back country of the Amazon, but he has to prove it because most of his records were washed away in a canoe accident (which is amusing in of itself from the next intertitle, which say he nearly killed three reporters sent to interview him!) - and so he demands folks to go with him back to the Lost World and satisfy the doubters (particularly with his hatred of reporters...oops). You'd better believe that makes for a fun time. What we have for the main quartet is a field of actors with recognizable talent for the era required and beyond. Love was not a presence to be trifled with, owing to her vast presence in film, radio, and television for nearly 70 years, with this falling into the range of wholesome charm - it works well within the confines of the film, where one doesn't lose sight of her or find other things to focus on besides her soulful expression. Stone was a soon to be known character presence and MGM mainstay, and it is evident to see why: he makes a worthy warm presence to the proceedings, dignified in his hunt for game in contrast to the big spectacle and bombast present elsewhere - a true sportsman, as the film suggests. One would hope to be familiar with Hughes, since he and Berry starred together in The Sea Hawk (1924), one of a string of films with him as a leading man (he would appear in over 90 productions as star/support in 21 years of work). He does fine with a long face destined for a few curious gestures, which is what one needs for a film like this. Beery is obviously quite a force of stature to be reckoned with, and it only makes sense to see him in a key part since he was in the middle of a lengthy career with plenty of film credits that ranged from heavy villain roles to comedy and more - obviously he does well with not getting lost in that bushy beard and bombast spirit, a man up to the challenge. The climax of the film goes to the big presentation: bringing a "living proof" Brontosaurus right to the face of the doubters a year later...only to see the dinosaur roam the streets of London due to an accident. My favorite part is the creature knocking down a statue right before it starts to bob its head around at various things. Clearly, what we have is a movie to stoke fascination in the magic that makes cinema so much fun to look upon. Sure, other movies followed in its wake with furthered advancement in effects like Jurassic Park (1993), but one cannot deny the power that comes from a mysterious world full of imagination and eclectic actors to make it all worthwhile (the subsequent follow up to that book/film, interestingly enough, proved a homage with its title, for which it shares the same name as this film). 95 years have shown the age of its effects and story at times, but it is still a worthwhile time to experience at least once, serving as the important link of creature features made in the backbone of silent films that thankfully is available for all to see any time.

300! Holy cow, Movie Night has reached 300 reviews in one calendar year, which I did not certainly did not see coming at the beginning of this year (I'm sure that statement can be applied several times over). I figured as long as the output (and quality, obviously) was better than 2019 or 2018, one would be satisfied, so I hope one has enjoyed what has proved in my mind to be Movie Night's greatest year in ten years on the Internet, which was exactly ten years ago. While I doubt there will be many years of 300 reviews, I would hope that the next year of Movie Night will prove just as worthy to read upon for you folks. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

It Happened on 5th Avenue.

Review #1613: It Happened on 5th Avenue.

Cast: 

Don DeFore (Jim Bullock), Gale Storm (Trudy O'Connor), Victor Moore (Aloyisius T. McKeever), Charles Ruggles (Michael J. "Mike" O'Connor), Ann Harding (Mary O'Connor), Grant Mitchell (Farrow), Edward Brophy (Patrolman Cecil Felton), Arthur Hohl (Patrolman Brady), Alan Hale, Jr. (Whitey Temple), and Dorothea Kent (Margie Temple) Directed by Roy Del Ruth (#395 - The Maltese Falcon (1931), #432 - The Babe Ruth Story, #807 - The Alligator People, #949 - The First Auto) 

Review: 

Once upon a time, there was a studio called Monogram Pictures. They were created to make cheap movies under the guise of two folks: Trem Carr and W. Ray Johnston in 1931. Several series came out of the scraps of former stars and fresh unknowns, whether it involved Westerns or the Bowery Boys. Fifteen years passed before an argument was made by producer Walter Mirisch to do work in costlier productions to evolve. The result was a new unit in Allied Artists Productions that would make more expensive films - in other words, they went from making films at a fraction of the usual Hollywood production to trying to make Hollywood budget-level films. Monogram Pictures continued on until 1953, while Allied Artists would make a variety of films for 31 years (which ranged from films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) to Love in the Afternoon (1957) to Cabaret (1972), which they co-produced). This was the 63rd of 75 films that were directed by Roy Del Ruth, who one will recognize from his plentiful output of dramas, crime films, and various others (some obviously better than others). The film fell into the hands of Ruth after the rights of the story were brought to Allied Artists after Frank Capra let the rights to the script go. The film was written by Frederick Stephani and Herbert Clyde Lewis, who later received the only Academy Award nomination regarding this film for Best Story (for 17 years, the Academy Awards honored films with Original Screenplay, Screenplay, and Best Story...confusing, but this was the case), which it lost to another classic involving Christmas in Miracle on 34th Street (1947), which like this film also received subsequent remakes in television and radio.

What we have here is the quirky story of folks that move into a mansion while the owner happens to be away for the holidays...which just happen to lead into a love story, a redemption story, and so on and so forth (how the rich man disguised as a hobo is never recognized by anybody besides his ex-wife and daughter as the actual owner of the house is up to you to interpret, because I suppose house portraits aren't present). Basically, it is the kind of film that goes for the heart string of being a better person than just the size of a wallet, where the tramp can be a king, and heartwarming goo is plentiful. Actually, it is an okay film, although its place on the totem pole of Christmas movies depends on one's preferences. I certainly was surprised at first to hear about the connection with Capra and this film (or more specifically, the "almost" connection), but then I realize that Capra had done It's a Wonderful Life (1946), which was released four months before this film - the funny thing is that this was actually delayed for some unknown reason, as research suggests that this film was delayed six months in its release to line up with Easter of all things (as much as I would like to mock this for not being released on Christmas like it should be, Miracle on 34th Street was released a month after this film) - Capra, alongside other famous folks of the time, also gave a recommendation to the film. It sure is a shame too, because one is a film that became a (public domain) classic after it wasn't an initial success with audiences (which is played every year as a tradition), while the other was a light success (making $1.8 million on a budget of $1.2 million budget) that had a shelf life with other Monogram and Allied Artists films for a few decades that has a fair amount of air-time. Besides, both have those moments of trying to sweet-talk their audience with sentiment, but it just so happens one is more efficient at handling what is needed with a film like this at 115 minutes. In other words, it can be funny for those who like what it offers in sentiment, while others will want it the same as getting a hole drilled in their head. The acting is certainly alright from what is needed in earnest from a few solid actors that while not quite well known were at least ones known to give effort. For example, Moore had been an actor on Broadway (in 1896) before being brought in to appear in films beginning in 1915, and this was his fifth-to-last role; here, he is the patron of interlopers with warm kindness, which obviously makes for worthy appeal. DeFore had a steady work in theater and film that would find footing with the advent of television in the following decade, and while he may not make a great romance angle, he at least makes for a spirited effort in the can-do attitude that the film wants. Storm was an actress that spent twelve years acting with a variety of low-budget studios, mostly with Monogram (she ended her film career for television, which worked out for two lengthy sitcoms) - however, the strangest thing to note is that fact that while she sings in the film, it is actually just her lip-synching to someone else (decided by Ruth, much to her disappointment); she does fine here, although the idea of her playing a teenager (while being six years older) is probably a bit much to swallow. Ruggles (who did work in the theater, film, radio, and television in six decades of work) plays the stuffy comic elements well, although the redemption aspects seem a bit more silly in being drawn out. Honestly, it might have worked better with one real story to it, either keeping with the interlopers or the redemption of the rich man into a rich happy man, since instead we have a muddle heap of sap that can only go so far, one that makes a few gags go fine but otherwise feels like an odd egg in the cornucopia of Christmas material to look around for. If one is curious for something that isn't just the usual classic Christmas fare done every time, this might work out just fine. As a curiosity in the eyes of seeing a low budget studio trying to re-invent themselves, it most definitely has a place for cinema, average or not.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Airport (1970).

Review #1612: Airport.

Cast: 

Burt Lancaster (Mel Bakersfeld), Dean Martin (Vernon Demerest), Jean Seberg (Tanya Livingston), Jacqueline Bisset (Gwen Meighen), George Kennedy (Joe Patroni), Helen Hayes (Ada Quonsett), Van Heflin (D. O. Guerrero), Maureen Stapleton (Inez Guerrero), Barry Nelson (Anson Harris), Dana Wynter (Cindy Bakersfeld), Lloyd Nolan (Harry Standish), Barbara Hale (Sarah Demerest), Gary Collins (Cy Jordan), John Findlater (Peter Coakley), Jessie Royce Landis (Mrs. Mossman), Larry Gates (Ackerman), and Peter Turgeon (Marcus Rathbone) Written and Directed by George Seaton (#303 - Miracle on 34th Street)

Review: 

I'm sure you are familiar with the disaster film. After all, how many times can you draw from the well of disaster films in a decade quite familiar with big spectacle and stars? Airport isn't the first disaster film ever (obviously), but it surely played a key part in the boom of big-time spectacles involving thrills that would be refined into refined hokum to chuckle with The Poseidon Adventure (1972) and The Towering Inferno (1974), which turned out way better in actual suspense (namely by not putting its characters in peril so late in the film). But wait, we are talking about a movie that somebody somehow really liked, since this made its budget back ten times (on a $10 million budget) and received a plethora of Academy Award nominations (going from Best Picture to Best Supporting Actress...twice! This was the year of Patton and Love Story, remember). But hey, this might seem interesting in its connections with Airplane! (1980). That film was a remake of a film called Zero Hour! (1957), which was adapted from a TV production that both featured Arthur Hailey as writer. A decade later, Hailey would write a book called Airport (1968), one of his numerous novels involving the depiction of a certain profession (such as hotels or the automobile industry), for which this film is adapted from. So, in a decade that saw disasters like earthquakes, meteors, infested animals, what can happen with an airport? If you can believe it, not too much, because this manages to be an interminable experience, proving that big stars cannot hold a 137 minute movie beyond B-movie clichés with all the predictable trimmings for exactly one thrill and nothing else. It is as if Grand Hotel (1932) was being regurgitated, one might say.

This was the 20th of 21 films done by George Seaton, the contract writer-turned-director who many will recognize from Miracle on 34th Street (1947, which he won an Academy Award for), although this film was the biggest one of his career; he never actually shot in Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport due to catching pneumonia, and Henry Hathaway stepped in to direct for five weeks there (he did not want payment for his work), complete with starting with fake snow upon having clear conditions. It is interesting to note this as the second-to-last film produced by Ross Hunter, mostly because of the fact that it reminded me of the fact that he left Universal Studios after this to produce Lost Horizon (1973), and we all know how that worked out. The only reason this is any better than that other film is the fact they don't think to ever start singing. Burt Lancaster even called the film a "piece of junk", and he starred in this film! At least he enjoyed the money that came from starring it to do something better (which is preferable to starring in junk and then getting swindled). Seberg didn't like it much either, but I'm sure the big winners proved to be Kennedy and Hayes, since the former was the only one who ended up starring in the next three Airport films and the latter won an Academy Award for her performance (no, I am not kidding, beating out her own cast-mate Stapleton!). This was also the last film role for Heflin and Landis. The only thing that will likely come out of it fine is the airplane industry, seeing how it is promoted so much in such a corny movie, one that will talk about anything else before thinking about thrills, whether that means trouble with noise pollution, office affairs, and quirky customers - oh, but the thing with a flailing airplane, that's just there for the last 25 minutes. To go through the list of actors is like looking through a view-finder and seeing the various slides to see which one "sticks out" the best, before realizing it is a hunk of junk. Lancaster is a fine actor, but he can't help a silly time get better, stuck between rescue mission and workaholic-ism that would've been in vogue with the 1940s or 1950s more than played here. Martin gets the pleasure of being Martin with a considerable age difference in his romance subplot (while reminding me of how many movies I've yet to get to with him as a lead). Seberg seems more stuck in that coat than anything, miles away from films like Breathless (1960) with confounding astonishment. Bisset is here and there with a supposed role of the mistress that seems quite empty for a film in need of a hole in the head. Kennedy is quite enjoyable, in the sense that a cigar-chomper trying to get a plane moving is probably more exciting than anything else that happens in the film. Hayes plays the stowaway with a few wisecracks that is only noteworthy because it is the famed actress of theatre, film, and TV playing it and nothing else - her being used as a ploy near the climax is amusing though. Heflin, a actor of theatre, radio, and film with star and character roles before his death in 1971, does just fine with the quiet adversarial role that is given very little to really do besides bide his time. Stapleton mounts herself to the ground with panic that could be thought of as camp pantomime, while others are there to point out and say words about, like Nelson (never quite a star, but he was the first James Bond...on television), or Wynter (tall, elegant, and wasted in this film for arguments), or Nolan (various roles in light entertainment or B-fare).

So yes, I have been quite mean with just calling it a turkey, and it is the fact that I did not expect much from it that only seals just how bland my disappointment is at the end of the day. The only plot that really matters involve Kennedy or the plane in the air possibly going down, not so much with the billions of other plots about these folks. But at least when the plane does receive some trouble, it ticks up in interest, which therefore means I did get some silly amusement in seeing actors fumble in cheesy danger, complete with the magic of split-screen photography. Actually, that is my other bone of amusement, because certain scenes feature a shot of someone in a circle cut into a scene on the plane saying their dialogue, as opposed to simply cutting to them just saying it...or just having them heard instead of seen. This is also used with a scene of someone using code words for security (with a diamond cut to see all five guards - nifty?). If things are happening in this film, watch out, because it will probably just stop not long after for something else. With a movie that introduces only one troubled person and nothing else, take a guess at how many people will face danger and lose by the end. Congratulations, you won - oh did you guess zero? If you did, you get credit because that would have made an even worse film. Naturally, there were sequels, and they only managed to get sillier with their progression alongside their choice of stars, which ranged from James Stewart to Gloria Swanson that were all released later in the 1970s (1974, 1977, 1979). Truly, the only thing I learned from this is maintaining an aversion to airplanes for yet another year, with the hope that no one tries to make corny movies like this about the bus industry or worse yet about walking. At that point, one might as well just cover your eyes and look for the hurl bag.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

A Farewell to Arms.

Review #1611: A Farewell to Arms.

Cast: 

Helen Hayes (Catherine Barkley), Gary Cooper (Lieutenant Frederic Henry), Adolphe Menjou (Major Rinaldi), Mary Philips (Helen Ferguson), Jack La Rue (Priest), Blanche Friderici (Head Nurse), Mary Forbes (Miss Van Campen), and Gilbert Emery (British Major) Directed by Frank Borzage.

Review: 

It is easy to say a film is overdue to cover when you can see it any time you like, which is particularly true for this film. It was originally distributed by Paramount Pictures, but somehow it managed to fall into the public domain when its copyright was not renewed. This was a film released in the middle of the career of established director Frank Borzage, who by this point in time was the second director to have received two Academy Awards for Best Director (he started his career in 1916, after having appeared in a few short films) with dramas such as 7th Heaven (1927) and Bad Girl (1931). The screenplay was done by Benjamin Glazer (who also co-produced the film) and Oliver H.P. Garrett, which was based on the novel of the same name by Ernest Hemingway. He had written the novel in 1929 that was based on his experiences in World War I, in which he served in the Italian Front (his stint in a Milan hospital with treatment from a nurse that he fell in love with, was dramatized into a film of its own with In Love and War decades later). This is the first of two film adaptations, with the other being released in 1957. This film was released before the advent of a tighter Production Code (hence content like abandoned duty and babies born out of wedlock and such), which means that one has a mix of romanticism and cynicism that proves quite enjoyable.

The film received four Academy Award nominations with Best Picture, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, Best Sound, and it won in the latter two categories, certainly earning a merit as some sort of prestige picture for its time. In other words, it is the kind of movie that you can look to and highlight from the curious era of the 1930s, just making its way out of the silent era while continuing the trend of adapting notable works of literature with spin for its target audience that just happen to deal with either war, romance, or a bit of both (besides, the Best Picture winner that this film lost to happened to involve drama and coverage of war - the inferior Cavalcade (1933), naturally). In that sense, even if Hemingway wasn't exactly thrilled by the film's tone compared to his book, I'm sure one will find enough to enjoy in a romance rift with energy and tragedy. Featured as our stars are two rising stars that would become famous names in time. Hayes was already an actress by the time she was a teenager (she is known as "First Lady of American Theatre" for a reason), and her debut in feature film with The Sin of Madelon Claudet (1931) garnered an Academy Award for her. She reportedly developed a crush on Cooper during production, and it is clear to see a brimming honesty coming from her that makes for a well performance in vulnerability. Cooper had been established as a star with film roles such as The Winning of Barbara Worth (1926) and The Virginian (1929), so it only seems appropriate to see him in a strong brimming kind of film like this, where he towers a bit over Hayes (by at least a foot, although the camera angles certainly help sometimes) that makes for an interesting romantic courtship. He composes himself well in careful charisma like a mighty oak tree, one might say. Not to be forgotten is Menjou, a name actor in silent and sound films (with a select group of lead roles owning to his suave nature that served for a five decade career), playing cavalier with Cooper that works quite well in turning the screws for what is needed without fiddling the mustache in scene-chewing. Philips goes along okay, although it is La Rue who makes memorable effort in a "wedding" sequence in the middle of the film. There were actually two endings to the film, depending on preferences of the theater at the time of release, with one following the novel and the other being more optimistic. Hemingway, displeased already by the altering of tone with his novel into less cynical, was angered by the decision for theater owners. One silver lining is that he struck up a friendship with Cooper that lasted for over 20 years (and he surely must have found it engaging to see Cooper star in another adaptation of his work a decade later). In any case, what we have here is a fine film to see play out for 88 minutes in classic traditional fare for those who like that sort of thing. It isn't great, but it certainly represents a well effort for its stars and director in entertainment, for which one can fit their curiosity for any time they like.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

WarGames.

Review #1610: WarGames.

Cast:

Matthew Broderick (David Lightman), Dabney Coleman (Dr. John McKittrick), John Wood (Dr. Stephen Falken / WOPR), Ally Sheedy (Jennifer Mack), Barry Corbin (General Jack Beringer), Juanin Clay (Patricia Healy), Dennis Lipscomb (Watson), Joe Dorsey (Col. Joe Conley), Michael Ensign (Beringer's assistant), William Bogert (Mr. Lightman), Susan Davis (Mrs. Lightman), and Irving Metzman (Richter) Directed by John Badham (#088 - Short Circuit, #1293 - Dracula (1979), and #1456 - Saturday Night Fever)

Review:

"If you get the characters right, everything else falls into place...Every actor has to be directed differently from every other actor...You have to make the set a comfortable place to be where it's okay to fail."

Films are a product of their time but some of those films represent the age they came from more than others, whether of good quality or not. WarGames is certainly a film for its decade, made in a time where computers for the home were growing in popularity but before the Internet (in other words, a time before my time). The story for the film was done by Walter F. Parkes and Lawrence Lasker, who developed their script over the course of a few years beginning in 1979. The original core involved a "dying scientist and the only person in the world who understands him - a rebellious kid who's too smart for his own good." Three people would play their part in shaping the film with computers: a meeting with Peter Schwartz, then of the Stanford Research Institute, shaped the film with hacking, since he felt a new subculture was arising in hacking with kids. Willis Ware of RAND Corporation helped inspire the idea of hacking into the computer with remote access (whether military or not). David Scott Lewis (a real-life hacker would eventually move to clean tech) would be the model for Broderick's character, and he had argued that the film has the most accurate representation of hacking. The character of Falken was originally inspired by Stephen Hawking, while the character of Beringer was inspired by then commander-in-chief of NORAD General James V. Hartinger. The original director for the film was Martin Brest, who shot for a few weeks before being let go by the studio, owing to his dark approach to the material, for which Badham would go the other way (treating it as a film to look fun and exciting rather than a dark rebellion). Noted writer and script doctor Tom Mankiewicz would also make contribution to the film, albeit without a screenplay credit.

Honestly, I was okay with the film, albeit with the observation that it just seems like a spunkier version of another film about hacking that would come out twelve years later with Hackers (1995), which also dealt with a high school hacker inadvertently getting his way into a deeper mystery. Actually, that isn't too far off, since Parkes and Lasker would return to write another film together that dealt with hacking (in this case security) with Sneakers (1992). After all, the film proved an influence to others in higher places of civic authority in the danger of "automatic dialing and access capabilities of the personal computer." In other words, it spooked President Reagan about hackers. Ten years after the release of this film saw the first ever convention dedicated to hackers with DEF CON (which happens to have attendance from folks interested in hacking alongside federal agents). This was the first major role for Broderick, who had started acting with stage and TV work two years prior. He does well what is needed here in wistful curiosity, where one cares to see where the line goes with hacking rather than wanting to see him get stuffed in a prison locker (one can only wonder what would've happened with the dark interpretation of the script by Brest, which might have been weird or really stiff). Coleman, a character presence in film and television, does well with what is needed in an authority foil with keen sense to go with what is needed in the scenes spent in the war room. Wood, known for his work in the theatre since the 1950s, does well with sardonic charm that lends itself well to the second half in maturity and futility. Sheedy (also in her second role, having appeared in Bad Boys less than two months prior to this film) is fine, breezy in those moments spent with Broderick, but the true presence of mind comes with Corbin, who provides booming bravado that is crisp in those moments spent in wavering circumstances with computers and choices. Admittedly, the one thing that sticks out to me regardless of age is that NORAD command center set, which is elaborate with all of its technological gizmos and lighting that probably makes the actual NORAD seem strange in comparison. Of course, it just happens to be a movie that tries to have a bit of adventure with hacking that will hit its target more so than missing it. In other words, it works for what it is without looking like a stodgy relic, walking that fine line between casual and tense in undertones that work for whoever wants to see where it will play out in 114 minutes. It is a movie about tech and the danger that could come from an over-reliance of it when faced with requirements of something as deep as nuclear war scenario-making. John Badham certainly made an eclectic range of warm films over the course of three decades, and while this might not be his greatest effort, it certainly stands well among his line of work in solid entertainment for engagement in tone and execution.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

A Good Day to Die Hard.

Review #1609: A Good Day to Die Hard.

Cast: 
Bruce Willis (John McClane), Jai Courtney (John "Jack" McClane, Jr), Sebastian Koch (Yuri Komarov), Yulia Snigir (Irina Komarov), Radivoje Bukvic (Alik), Sergei Kolesnikov (Viktor Chagarin), Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Lucy McClane), Cole Hauser (Mike Collins), Aldis Hodge (Lt. Foxy), and Amaury Nolasco (Murphy) Directed by John Moore.

Review: 
"I have a warm spot in my heart for Die Hard...It’s just the sheer novelty of being able to play the same character over 25 years and still be asked back is fun. It’s much more challenging to have to do a film again and try to compete with myself, which is what I do in Die Hard. I try to improve my work every time. I get to do different things and look differently, and it’s still accepted, and people come out. It’s just an amazing thing.”

Sometimes one should just start with something cordial before the storm hits. After all, this is the fifth and presumably last installment in the Die Hard franchise, one that has had such irregularity with its sequels that followed since the original icon that came out in 1988 (a great action film and Christmas movie). Granted, I didn't hate any of the sequels, but I certainly grew up with enough viewings of the first three to see how much charisma and action can be carried with Bruce Willis as a star. Live Free or Die Hard (2007) is probably the one I've seen the least amount of times (one), but that didn't mean it was bad or anything, it's just a byproduct of not going around to watch modern films more than once (unless I really want to). So, here we are, with an R-rated Die Hard film again, and it happens to be the only one that is an entirely original work (the first two were loosely based on books, the third was an unused script and the fourth was a Wired article and a separate script) that was written by Skip Woods, writer of films such as Swordfish (2001) and The A-Team (2010). One working title was apparently "Die Hard 24/7", which I can only imagine would have been just as silly in whatever it would have to do in 24/7 mayhem (or a crossover with some number-related TV show that I've never seen). The director for this film is Irish director John Moore, a graduate of Dublin Institute of Technology that made his own short films and commercials alongside work for the camera before being brought in to direct for 20th Century Fox with Behind Enemy Lines (2001), with this being the fifth and last film Moore has made for the studio.

One knows they are in for some trouble when they realize it is only 97 minutes long. Every one of the previous films was two hours long, and that is likely because those actually seemed to have a useful structure built in that made for useful entertainment without being just a vehicle for action and cardboard. Besides, those films generally had a set-up of a man caught in the middle of violent crisis that is usually one's only hope, whether that involves terrorists on a building, planes stalling, robbing the Federal Reserve, or cyberterrorism. Now, we have a film that takes its cue from the last film in making it a family affair, now set mostly in Russia (or rather Hungary with location shooting) that finds itself involving McClane in a plot with the CIA and secret files involving Chernobyl, and hues of blues and oranges that will make one blur their eyes in agony. The film that comes from it isn't too much better, as it is the worst of the five Die Hard films without any doubt, committing the clearest sin imaginable: being just a bland action movie. Its attempt at blurring the lines with who its villain is alongside a middling father-son act mean that we have a muddy movie, one that might as well be turned into one of those "choose your own adventure" books or video games, being the equivalent of a three-day old cheeseburger with flat soda. One won't hate what they see play out on screen because they will probably be bored stiff by it instead. At the time of the release of this film, Willis was the same age as another icon at the end of his tenure in Roger Moore for A View to a Kill (1985). Strangely enough, I don't see this film receiving any sort of lingering campy sentimental push like that film has. Willis isn't quite at the point where he seems a bit too old to still be an action star, but he sure doesn't seem like he is having much to do here, doing a few quips that have the hitting power of one going through the motions. Courtney isn't too much better either, since one doesn't really feel (or care) about their bond as father and son and therefore just sees an action film that gives them a gruff attitude and not much else. Koch joins them for a time as the target of interest that has a resolution that is meant to be a surprise but is instead a yawning sigh. Snigir isn't too much better, because there really is nothing here to grab on to in scenery or with drama - so one can't find much to point and laugh with in bland popcorn. By the time the climax happens, I'm just trying to make sure my eyes don't strain from how murky it looks (no, cheating by simply turning the brightness all the way up won't help), and I can't imagine how a sixth film would have looked, honestly. Look, if you want to see things explode or people jumping through windows, you will likely find it done in better films, and they might seem less murky in enjoyment and/or the laws of physics. Truly, it should have ended after four films (or three). It comes, it goes, it bores, it snores, it stinks. 

Overall, I give it 4 out of 10 stars.

Wayne's World 2.

Review #1608: Wayne's World 2.

Cast: 

Mike Myers (Wayne Campbell), Dana Carvey (Garth Algar), Tia Carrere (Cassandra Wong), Christopher Walken (Robert G. "Bobby" Cahn), Kevin Pollak (Jerry Segel), Ralph Brown (Del Preston), James Hong (Jeff Wong), Kim Basinger (Honey Hornée), Chris Farley (Milton), Michael A. Nickles (Jim Morrison), Larry Sellers (The Weird Naked Indian), with Ed O'Neill (Glen), Gavin Grazer (Scott), and Aerosmith. Directed by Stephen Surjik.

Review: 

It did not take long for folks to realize that Wayne's World was a success. To recap, Wayne's World began twofold: Mike Myers came up with the idea of Wayne that appeared in sketches for Citytv's City Limits and CBC Television's It's Only Rock & Roll in the mid 1980s before Myers joined Saturday Night Live in 1989 and starred in segments for the show with Dana Carvey that were featured from time to time for the next five years. The 1992 film of the same name, doubted by Paramount Pictures to be much of a hit, made nine times its $20 million budget, ranking as the most popular film based on a SNL sketch (which it still holds today). The sequel retains the main duo alongside a selection of cast members from the original alongside a sprinkling of cameo appearances (both musical and not), with Myers writing the film again with Bonnie and Terry Turner. However, the road to making a script for a sequel proved quite tough, in that the original idea by Myers wouldn't end up being used, which involved inspiration taken directly from Passport to Pimlico (1949), where the main duo would end up making their own country. Weeks before production was to start, this inspiration was pointed out by studio executives (who did not have enough time to negotiate the rights to the script and were thus incensed, with one threatening Myers personally) and they made Myers write an entirely new script. Conflicts between Myers and Penelope Spheeris over editing in the first film led to consideration of a new director in Stephen Surjik, who was known for his direction of segments for The Kids in the Hall (1990-1993). 

The film was not quite a hit like the original, but it was a marginal hit with audiences as the last hurrah for these characters. When it comes to comedies, it is a mediocre follow-up that will nevertheless please those who seek another ride of goofy charm with hit-and-miss pace. Those who weren't really fans of the original won't exactly be swayed here, because sometimes it really does feel like a bit of a rehash from before - truly, it is the take-or-leave-it film for the comedy season. Myers and Carvey prove up to the task of creating some amusing moments, whether spent with themselves or playing against others; in the case of Myers, it namely involves a vision of Jim Morrison as some sort of spiritual journey (inspired by Myers and his own journey that he took upon the death of his father) that leads to a few interesting moments to those who don't see the Morrison bits as just a bit. Actually, the "fight" (involving dubbing) between Myers and Hong is kind of funny, too. For Carvey, the moments spent with Basinger playing a femme fatale prove quite involving (along with seeming tacked there to give him something to do besides linger with the look-alike played by Olivia d'Abo). The segment showing Myers and Carvey talk about "The Leprechaun" is a decent highlight to look at for a minute, in the sense that it is probably better done than the actual film made fun of. It is nice to see Carrere, even if her part seems like a re-hash from before (in other words, trying to do music in the face of slimy producers), but the highlight is the re-creation of a particular sequence from The Graduate (1967) near the ending. Walken does well with straight-laced slime that nevertheless can grab a chuckle (or be used for better work involving straight-laced humor). Pollak is used for a bit involving eyes that goes over fine, but it is Brown that takes up the supporting reins in pairing with Myers/Carvey, which he does in a take off the eccentric character he played in Withnail and I (1987). There are various cameo appearances throughout the film, ranging from Rip Taylor to Aerosmith to Charlton Heston, with some proving better than others (Charlton Heston over Jay Leno? Shock, shock, shock. Actually, I take it back, TV sentimental favorite Ed O'Neill's brief moment as the oddball Glen is the better one). In other words, 95 minutes is just enough to handle a few decent moments and a mostly-original run-through for a follow-up film that will fit just fine for what one desires to see in entertainment without being too disappointed. In other words, one can party on just fine with this film without hurling too much back at the screen.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Harvey.

Review #1607: Harvey.

Cast: 

James Stewart (Elwood P. Dowd), Josephine Hull (Veta Louise Dowd Simmons), Peggy Dow (Miss Kelly), Charles Drake (Dr. Lyman Sanderson), Victoria Horne (Myrtle Mae Simmons), Jesse White (Marvin Wilson), Cecil Kellaway (Dr. William Chumley), William H. Lynn (Judge Omar Gaffney), Dick Wessel (Bartender Mr. Cracker), Nana Bryant (Mrs. Hazel Chumley), Grayce Mills (Aunt Ethel Chauvenet), and Clem Bevans (Herman Shimmelplatzer) Directed by Henry Koster.

Review: 

"I must say it was a complete, one hundred percent pleasure, the whole picture. I had the most wonderful performers. The spirit of Harvey, that splendid and helpful ghost, was always with us while we did it."

What does one expect from a movie involving an eccentric lead that has a six-foot (and 3 1/2 inches) invisible rabbit for a best friend? Plenty, if you can believe it from a film celebrating its 70th anniversary. I'm sure at least one of my readers has had an imaginary friend that lurked in their lives, and I remember having one to talk my thoughts with out loud (it didn't have a name, however). Harvey first began as a play of the same name, written in 1944 by Mary Chase. She was awarded a Pulitzer Prize for Drama the following year for the play. Its original production ran for five years on Broadway, which originally featured Frank Fay as the lead with Josephine Hull in the secondary role. There were various actors that would take over the role during that run, which included actors such as Joe E. Brown and James Stewart. He managed to snag the role in a deal with Universal-International that meant he would be cast if he agreed to be the star of Winchester '73 (1950), which arguably played a great role in his second phase of stardom. Stewart would play the role again on the stage numerous times, including a revival on Broadway and a run on the West End as well as a TV adaptation in 1972 (done between two other TV adaptations, which had Art Carney and Harry Anderson as leads, respectively). He would note this as one of his favorite roles, reflected as such by him in a special introduction he did for the release of the film onto video in 1990. If you can believe it, Chase wanted the film to show the rabbit at the end, as if to show that the lead was not in fact just a drunk - the studio decided to not do so, instead going with for the final shot of the movie a credit for the title character that shows a door quietly being opened as "as himself" title appears (besides, he technically makes an appearance - in a painting with him and Stewart). This was a film in the middle of the lengthy career of Henry Koster, who grew up interested in cinema from a young age growing up in Berlin, Germany. He grew up to become a screenwriter for German films before moving into directing with Thea Roland (1932) before leaving for Austria and later the United States before World War II started. Koster would direct numerous films in three decades of work (for a variety of studios, most notably with Universal Pictures), directing a variety of genres such as musicals and comedies (including discovering Abbott and Costello that led to them being hired for films) - simply put, it is long overdue to look upon his career.

Chase and Oscar Brodney wrote the screenplay, while Myles Connolly did uncredited contribution as well. So how goes the film with plenty of calm whimsy? Oh, it's a fine one, one that honors its stage roots to make a well-mannered adaptation into film. With Stewart at the helm, he makes the experience all the more useful in quiet endearing charm, which one can expect from a number of his performances in a lengthy career, but this one fits right at home with what is needed here, because he doesn't make it out to seem like one is waiting for a joke to arise, as he is instead a bit stooped over with kindness (since the shots make it look like there really is someone near him to begin with). It may not be a great film, but it is nice to see that no one has tried to remake it into a theatrical effort since this one. While this was only the fourth of five film roles for Hull, don't let that fool you into seeing the talent within, because she was a stage actress for fifty years, going from stock to chorus girl to eventual star. She makes a worthy mild tempered foil to go with Stewart, one that has the interesting act of having to believe and not believe in the title character at the same time. In other words, this is a fine film where either Stewart or Hull can be thought of as easy to go along with. Others do fine in keeping up, such as a fair duo with Dow and Drake in clinical straight folks, alongside quirks such as White and Kellaway in interaction spent with Stewart and/or Harvey.  It balances its main quirk with reasonable pace at 104 minutes and a few interesting performances to go alongside Stewart that delivers some chuckles that keeps its main focus from devolving into farce with simple wisdom in one key thing: normal humans may be stinkers, but that doesn't mean one that happens to believe in a friendly spirit like Harvey is dangerous to you or me. Basically, you could shorten it to "be yourself", but without the eye-roll that comes at times to folks because of the struggle that comes to wrestle with reality in offbeat ways. In any case, one's enjoyment of the film is all up to your imagination, which goes with the amusement of errors that happen throughout its runtime. What we have is a light-hearted winner in bending the usual expectations seen in comedy-dramas, one with no need for an adversary or a romance to carry itself along, instead relying itself on the folksy charm of Stewart and a pooka to carry your imagination anywhere it wants to go. Sometimes, that is more than enough for a fine time, whether for 1950 or 2020.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Gamera, the Giant Monster.

Review #1606: Gamera, the Giant Monster.

Cast: 

Eiji Funakoshi (Dr. Hidaka), Michiko Sugata (Nobuyo Sakurai), Harumi Kiritachi (Kyoko Yamamoto), Junichiro Yamashita (Aoyagi), Yoshiro Uchida (Toshio Sakurai), Yoshiro Kitahara (Mr. Sakurai), Jun Hamamura (Dr. Murase), Yoshio Yoshida (Eskimo Chief), and George Hirose (the Japanese ambassador) Directed by Noriaki Yuasa.

Review: 

"This may be cliché, but the only thing I have to say is, “Gamera is immortal.” Gamera is not dead. If we want to bring him back and create a new story, we can. He’s immortal. [Shigeo] Nagashima said, “The [Yomiuri] Giants are immortal.” But I want to say, “Gamera is immortal.” Gamera is really forever. That’s all I have to say. I’m grateful for being inspired to create such a great character.

Oh sure, there have been plenty of kaiju films for Japanese viewers to watch, but how about one parallel from Godzilla for one? Gamera (derived from the Japanese word kame that means turtle) is an on-and-off again franchise that has inspired twelve feature films, with two distinct periods to them that all started 55 years ago with the original production, as made by Daiei Film, which you might recognize from Warning from Space (1956) and subsequent kaiju works like Daimajin (1966, which involves a giant stone). There were eight films in the original line of Gamera (1965-1971, 1980), with Noriaki Yuasa directing seven of them. The son of a stage actor, he had made his debut in film with Shiawase nara te o tatakō (1964), and it is one of only two films he directed that didn't involve Gamera. It is also the only film of the franchise to be in black-and-white and to not have a second monster involved in the action. One might go with the easy generalization of this being a ripoff of Godzilla, and the basic framework of that seems to ring true. After all, Dalei wanted to make a kaiju (monster) movie, inspired by The Birds (1963) and the Godzilla films...so they first turned to giant rats. No, seriously, actual rats were going to be used in ravaging the world (since stop motion and other methods didn't work out); if you can believe it, this did not last long, since the wild rats they brought in resulted in health infections. Studio head Macaichi Nagata came up with another idea while on an airplane, where he saw something shaped like a turtle swimming that suddenly dropped out of sight. But wait a minute, it gets better, since we are talking about a turtle with tusks that also happens to fly like an UFO. In that sense, maybe it explains the strange ways the film sets up its own monster, because it begins in the Artic (which they refer to as a continent, for some reason) with Eskimos as military planes (which happen to be carrying nuclear weapons) happen to fly by. After a brief skirmish that is harmless enough to never stoke front page headlines but still enough to create Gamera, one finds themselves watching the other shoe drop: an ancient stone that displays Gamera and some mysterious markings (which they think is waves...joke's on them!). There has been arguments made about similarities to mythology from other sources with the Four Symbols of the Chinese constellations that had a guardian with the Black Tortoise, known in Japan as Genbu (of course this film floats around the idea of this being deriving in some way from Atlantis), although writer Niisan Takahashi stated that it was simply just a "100% original" script done at the wishes of Nagata and producer Yonejiro Saito (who told him about the turtle story). Takahashi would write for all eight films.

Maybe a turtle can be a really imposing monster if one gets the focus just right. This...in an odd way to go by it, since sometimes the creature will look fine for destroying models, and then other times one nearly cracks up at the execution of a flying turtle with big teeth and eyes. There had been plenty of monster movies with dinosaurs or beasts looking like them for decades, so why not another strange monster? Godzilla was still going strong at the time this film was released, with Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965) being released just a month after this film (that film, a Japanese-American production to be covered at a certain time, involved aliens that wanted Earth to send Godzilla to their planet). There were some weird films for the 1960s, and Gamera sure is one of them. It isn't exactly a good film by any means, but it sure proves a silly time for those who desire a kaiju film with that mix of exposition and payoff with a flaming turtle. It isn't too long either at 78 minutes (probably owing to Dalei's lingering doubt about this being a hit that meant a low budget), depending on exactly how one views its devil-may-care attitude to story depth. Oh yes, I forgot about the actors. Honestly, the only things that stick out from those moments spent explaining the methods of taking the monster down/looking for it involve a kid (Uchida) that is obsessed with the beast because he believes it is his friend (which he let out after being told by his parents that he is too obsessed with turtles and then rescued by Gamera after causing the circumstances to not just crush him in the first place). He may not be too wrong, since the next film turned Gamera into a more sympathetic creature, and it is from those films that he earned the nickname "the Friend of All Children". No one does awful here, so that isn't too weird. Truly, there are some strange times to be had with some of the lines from either version, beyond just asking about turtles in the Artic, such as one talking about ancient legends mentioning fire-eating turtles but finding it difficult to believe now, or one replying to someone drawing turtles by saying they drew girls when they were young (oh, and one character that thinks of the other as some sort of charm). They aren't really wooden, just kind of used as a means to an end. If you can believe it (and this is a movie full of that statement), they don't really take the monster down. Maybe they were planning a whole franchise in advance, because they resort to a plan that not even Godzilla tried: lure the monster to a rocket and send it to Mars! The whole world I guess can be comforted in the fact that they couldn't defeat a giant turtle with all their might, but they can lure it away instead like you would a possum. Gamera is a film of different perspectives in the sense that there are different versions of this film to watch. The first English-dubbed version was with "Gammera, the Invincible", released a year after the original that featured new footage with American actors that was usually included on a double bill. This film would also be edited for television by American International Television, and there exists public domain releases of those VHS/DVD releases. Two decades later, Sandy Frank (known for his syndication services in film and TV) acquired the film and four others to dub over (Mystery Science Theater 3000 would mock these versions in later years); this film, alongside all the others are also readily available in the video market (or one can settle for a shabbier version on the Internet). In any case, what we have here is a strange little movie, one that while obviously not holding a candle to Godzilla is at the very least an intriguing piece of cheese that set the stage for further adventures for all the right reasons.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Starman.

Review #1605: Starman.

Cast:

Jeff Bridges (Scott Hayden / Starman), Karen Allen (Jenny Hayden), Charles Martin Smith (Mark Shermin), Richard Jaeckel (George Fox), Robert Phalen (Major Bell), Tony Edwards (Sergeant Lemon), John Walter Davis (Brad Heinmuller), and Ted White (Deer Hunter) Directed by John Carpenter (#068 - Halloween (1978), #634 - Escape from New York, #712 - The Thing (1982), #732 - Escape from L.A., #1221 - Dark Star, #1298 - They Live, and #1479 - Big Trouble in Little China)

Review:

"I have two sides to my personality. I'm very pessimistic about the long term: we're all born alone and we die alone, and if anything good happens in between, it's great. But I'm a short-term optimist. I gained this by making movies in which it's all going to work out."

As the months change, some things stay the same while others change with the wind. One thing that has become quite clear in all the time spent watching films is just how underrated John Carpenter is as a director. There is something quite striking in the films that he managed to make in over three decades of filmmaking, ones that reach within their imagery and mood with distinct characters that has generally soared higher than the initial perceptions of its time, which by and large makes him a cult classic director worth checking out in my view. Starman, the eighth of his eighteen films, was a light success with audiences at the time in making its $20 million budget, which must have been helpful when compared to the reaction of his previous film in The Thing (1982), which also depicted extraterrestrial visitors (albeit with a nihilistic outlook). Obviously the tide turned on that film (for good reason!), but Starman has its own interesting path to eventual film that results in a feature that is a secret gem. If anyone ever tries to shoehorn Carpenter as merely a horror director, this is exactly the kind of film to blow a hole right in that theory. Inevitably, one would look to another film involving a curious visitor from another world falling to Earth and making a bond with a human. Of course E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) was also noted for certain similarities to Satyajit Ray's 1967 script "The Alien", so who knows? There were quite a few differences from the original script that were modified for a film, with Carpenter noting that one of the scripts had the alien be able to fly, and he noted in an interview that the possible similarities to films such as The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976) startled the studio alongside other prospective directors that ranged from Mark Rydell to Peter Hyams. Carpenter, however, felt interested in making a film different from the films he did before that were in the horror genre, one that would be an interspecies love story that seems reminiscent of films like It Happened One Night (1934). This film spent five years in development, with a script that was bought by Columbia Pictures before Spielberg's film had been optioned (they dropped E.T. because they thought this film would be for grown-ups and E.T. seemed for kids. Ouch?). The script by Bruce A. Evans and Raynold Gideon would go through several re-writes that were left un-credited in Dean Riesner, Edward Zwick, and Diane Thomas.

So, if you spend a space probe out to space with a gold record (remember the phonograph? Good, I've yet to use one), what would happen if someone found it? Welp, perhaps something like this, although probably without the space orbs. The film presents itself as a mixture of science fiction and romance, doing so by bookending its effects sequences for its opening and end scenes, but the real treasure lies within the obvious: Jeff Bridges. He has managed to cultivate at least one memorable performance in every decade since the 1970s, one that has a great self-assured confidence to what he needs to do when it comes to keeping one's attention right where it needs to be. He manages to provide a wonderfully compelling performance, one that is essentially playing an imitation of himself, complete with movements that seem bird-like without just seeming like a bit. He and Allen contribute to a few bits of humor that work to the film's strength in tender growth with understanding. Allen (no stranger to romance leads with films like Raiders of the Lost Ark in spunky charm) keeps up with him just as well, one that has their own share of vulnerability alongside understanding to line up with Bridges for some useful sequences on the road in their road to love that doesn't seem quite forced for what is needed in a sweet but dutiful adventure. They start awkwardly with effective quality (how many romances start with seeing a being morph from kid to dead man look-alike?), and the culmination of that touch goes with a scene at a diner, where the weariness turns into resonance upon the sight of a resurrected deer. They carry the film as far as it goes with how touching they are, and it is definitely hard to see anyone else playing these roles better. Smith (an established character actor for a decade before soon adding directing later in the decade) also does pretty well with what he is given in with curiosity to counteract the heavy-handed effective character presence of Jaeckel. As a whole, I thought this was a pretty enjoyable movie, albeit one that could have been much sillier in the hands of anyone not as talented as Carpenter, Bridges, or Allen, because we are talking about a being that means no harm yet gets involved in a variety of quirky action moments. With 115 minutes at hand, it ends up being quite the ride for enjoyment, particularly if one is up to seeing Carpenter do something a bit different for effect: a star-crossed love story. One can't go wrong in that department with these folks at hand.

It was my birthday, so I figured, why not pick something favorable with its cast and crew? Another year come and gone from my twenties, too.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.