Tuesday, August 26, 2008

"I am married to an American agent."


François Truffaut once told Alfred Hitchcock that he felt Hitch made one movie over and over throughout his career. There is a strong case to be made in Truffaut’s favor, especially when one looks at Notorious (1946).

A personal favorite of many critics, namely Roger Ebert and Robert Osborne, Notorious is short on suspense, but large on love. It also takes pieces of film from past Hitchcock films and gives the audience a peek at pieces of film from later Hitchcock films.

The opening shot is of a courtroom. We see inside of the courtroom because a member of the press has opened the door to allow the camera a view. This is similar to the courtroom scene in Frenzy (1972). In that movie the door is opened to the courtroom and we hear the guilty verdict. The drunken driven scene echoes a similar scene involving Cary Grant in North By Northwest (1959). The same film is echoed later when the American agents are gathered in Rio to discuss how best to infiltrate the Nazi scientists. It is reminiscent of the discussion in Washington over the nonexistent agent George Kaplan.

The Birds (1963) is invoked when Ingrid Bergman and Grant embrace on the hill in Rio. There is also the first implementation of Hitch’s revolving of the camera around lovers in this movie. It was made famous in Vertigo (1958) as well. Bergman swipes the key to the wine cellar from Claude Rains in a suspenseful situation, similar to that of Ray Milland in Dial M for Murder (1954). The fact that Milland is stealing the key from Grace Kelly in Dial M, while Bergman takes it from Rains is a point that will be discussed in greater detail below. Of course when one thinks of the cellar or basement of a Hitchcock movie, one always thinks of Psycho (1960). There is also the ever present, overbearing mother figure in the movie that is found throughout all of Hitch’s American films.

What about the movies preceding Notorious? If you check the films above, you will notice that every one of them was made after Notorious. So where are the old Hitchcock references? Well, Suspicion (1941), also made with Grant, is present in the poisoning scenes. Instead of using a glass of milk to poison the wife, cups of coffee or tea are used. Rebecca (1940) is also prevalent, as Sebastian’s house seems to become another character in this movie. When Ingrid Bergman first arrives in the mansion, she seems overwhelmed, much like Joan Fontaine was when she first arrived at Manderley.

The most famous shot in Notorious is the long crane swoop during the party. The camera begins at the ceiling in the chandelier and comes all the way down, through the guests, into Bergman’s hand where she is holding the magical key. There is a similar shot in Marnie (1964). There are also similarities between both movies during the horse riding scene and at the race track. But the crane shot was first used in a Hitchcock film in 1930’s Murder. In that one the camera swept along a ballroom to focus on a drummer in blackface who had a tendency to twitch his eyes. He was the murderer in the movie and the heroes had to find him.

Above I mentioned the significance of Ingrid Bergman taking the key from Claude Rains. This is a different sort of movie because Bergman essentially plays a stereotypical male character. She is an alcoholic who has a talent for seducing men into giving her what she wants. Typically this is a role that would go to a male heartthrob, but this movie is different in that it puts a female into the role. It makes for a much more interesting and unique story. It is similar to what we have seen before, but different because instead of a male playing with a woman’s emotions, we get the opposite. We also don’t feel too bad for Claude Rains when his fate becomes sealed after Grant takes Bergman from his house. Perhaps we would if the roles were different. I do know that we wouldn’t remember this movie as much had the role been played by a male.

Monday, August 25, 2008

"There ain't no Sanity Claus!"


In 1935 the country was in the midst of the Great Depression. The people had little relief. There seemed to be no room for laughter. That is, until MGM released their first Marx Brothers picture A Night at the Opera (1935).

Much like the rest of the country, by 1935 it appeared that the Marx Brothers had had it. They had been huge in vaudeville and on Broadway during the 1920s. They made a smooth transition into movies and did well making four pictures for Paramount. But their last one, Duck Soup (1933), hadn’t been as big a box office smash as all involved would have liked. This seems odd today as Duck Soup is always found in lists of the best comedies ever made, it is the one most commonly associated with the Marx Brothers. Although that might be the case today, in 1935 Groucho and his two brothers needed to find someone willing to take a chance on them. Those familiar with the Marx Brothers will know that there were four brothers who performed in the Paramount films. After receiving nothing more than straight-man parts, Zeppo decided to leave the group to become a successful Hollywood agent.

As would happen often in the future, the Marx Brothers got back into movies thanks to Chico. This time though Chico didn’t need the money to pay off some gambling debts. Instead he used his card playing skills to wow the most powerful man in Hollywood, Irving Thalberg. Both were avid bridge players and over a game one night, Chico explained to Thalberg that the Brothers were in need of work. Thalberg said the Brothers were funny, but that they hadn’t made a great picture yet. He believed he had what the Paramount pictures were missing: a plot.

A Night at the Opera has Thalberg’s fingerprints all over it. He believed that a story could be woven into the comedy routines of the Brothers. He told George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, the two screenwriters, to build the story around big blocks of comedy. The plot would carry the viewer from one block to the next. This is easily seen in the movie as some of the most famous routines of the Marx Brothers are present here. There are the famous contract scene, the stateroom scene, the movement of beds in the hotel room and the grand finale in the opera house. Thalberg also wanted the audience to have sympathy for the Brothers. This is why Harpo is beaten up in Lassparri’s dressing room and why Groucho loses his post with the opera company when Gottlieb arrives in New York. With the audience possessing a rooting interest, the Marx Brothers can become more than comedians – they become heroes.

A Night at the Opera was considered by Groucho to be the best picture done by the Marx Brothers. It is filled with comedy routines that have become classics, but it is more toned down than the Paramount movies. It has a story, but the appeal of the Marx Brothers was never the plot, it was always the comedy. This movie did save their career, but it was the last great Marx Brothers movie ever made. Midway through their next movie A Day at the Races (1937), Thalberg passed away. With him gone and a transformation already in place, the Marx Brothers could not change back to their Paramount zany days. They had to remain comedians restrained by a plot and their later movies suffered because of this.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Will I be pretty?


Remakes are a part of Hollywood. So are projects that are announced, but then scrapped. A remake that has been announced, but hopefully won’t be made is The Birds (1963). From what I have read the people involved with the project totally miss the point of the movie. It isn’t about birds attacking people, but families. Anyways, The Birds is a movie that will be talked about sometime in the future. For now, I’ll go back to remakes and those trendy remakes of Alfred Hitchcock movies. Psycho (1998) is a good example of a poor Hitchcock remake. Hitchcock even decided to remake his own movie in 1956 when he redid The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934).

Being the most popular director in the world, Hitchcock movies were always in demand. Because of this demand, producers pressured him to come up with stories quickly. It wasn’t his style to rush into anything so at certain points in his career he would take on an easy project just to “recharge the batteries” as he called it. One such project was Dial M For Murder (1953), another The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956). Universal came to Hitch and asked him to remake one of his earlier British movies. After much deliberation, Hitch and his associates decided on The Man Who Knew Too Much. The original is fairly good, but could definitely be improved. The remake is in color, which makes it more acceptable to modern audiences and it does feature James Stewart. Other than that, though, there isn’t much that makes this remake special.

Besides asking Hitch to remake one of his films, Universal requested that a catchy song be put in so that they could sell records on top of movie tickets. Bernard Herrmann, who composed the score and played the role of the Albert Hall conductor in the movie, was not known for catchy lyrical music. So some songwriters were brought in and wrote “Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera)” for Doris Day to sing. Her singing is about the only bright spot of her time on screen. The title of the song was derived from a line in the Ava Gardner movie The Barefoot Contessa (1954). The song, of course, has become a hit and associated with Doris Day more so than with the movie.

Hitch and Stewart made a good team and Stewart performs well here. His performance is superior to Leslie Banks’ in the original. The biggest defect, other than Doris Day, is the absence of Peter Lorre as Abbott. In the original, Abbott is a suave bad guy who is extremely cultured. The epitome of the white-collar criminal. There is not hint of a cultured villain in this one. It is tough to watch after seeing the masterful job done by Lorre.

For the most part, the original and the remake follow the same path, once arrived in London that is. The beginning of the remake in Morocco is interesting, especially the scene in the restaurant where Stewart and the tourists have difficulty with the local customs. There is also the famous scene where the black make-up comes off of the murdered Louis Bernard, Daniel Gelin, onto the hands of James Stewart.

In London, the Albert Hall performance is longer, probably to give Herrmann some more screen time. There is scene in the taxidermy store, which echoes the scene in the back of the Bates Motel. The ending is also redone a bit, in order to get Doris Day’s voice and the popular song some more screen time.

I guess you could say, like all remakes, this one was done for purely commercial reasons. Perhaps that is why it is not superior to the original.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

The lace isn't the only old thing here


Normally I try to use this space to discuss the behind-the-scenes of classic movies or focus on the characters in one of the movies. But today I will express my severe displeasure with a movie that has not aged well.

A few months ago I was flipping through the channels. I stopped at TCM, like I usually do, just to see if I recognize the movie and if I do then I decide if it is worth watching more than 5 minutes. This time I saw Peter Lorre on the screen with Cary Grant. I was intrigued and watched some more. I dislike coming into a movie in its middle, so I decided to switch the channel. Once I found that there was nothing else on, I went to my computer and found out that the movie I had seen was Arsenic and Old Lace (1944).

Much to my disappointment, when I recently saw the full movie, I had seen the best part of the movie where theater critic Cary Grant explains to Peter Lorre’s Dr. Einstein about a terrible play he had recently saw in which what happened to the main character in that play was occurring at that exact same time to Cary Grant. It was the biggest highlight of a movie that has aged poorly.

It appears that the actors have tried too hard to be zany. Cary Grant acts just like he does in Monkey Business (1952) or His Girl Friday (1940), yet there is something in these Howard Hawks movies that has aged better than what he does in Frank Capra’s Old Lace. Peter Lorre is always a terrific actor, probably the most underrated in movie history because he was a character actor and not a star. He excels here, but there aren’t many other highlights. Raymond Massey is interesting as Cary Grant’s disfigured brother. But in the stage version, Boris Karloff had the part. Since there are numerous references to Massey looking like Karloff, it would have been much funnier had Karloff been in the part. As it is, the make-up on Massey does make the two seem similar.

The two old aunts are interesting for a bit. Their act of complete innocence while killing old men is funny for the first hour. Unfortunately the movie is almost two hours and they two aunts lose their luster as they aren’t well drawn characters. I won’t even begin to talk about how bad Priscilla Lane’s performance looks 60 years after the movie was originally released.

Overall, there is enough talent in the movie to make it work. The Twins, who wrote Casablanca (1942), could certainly write. Frank Capra could direct. Lane, Massey, Lorre and Grant could all act. They just haven’t aged well and that is unfortunate for modern audiences. As good as the Twins and Capra are, I kind of wish the movie had been written by Ben Hecht or made by Billy Wilder or Howard Hawks because their movies have stood the test of time. Obviously, at the time the movie was made no one involved in production was making it so that the movie could be enjoyable over 60 years later. They were contract players working on another movie, trying to give their best. I’m sure they gave it and the 1946 audience appreciated it. I just wish I could.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Knock, knock, knock, come on in!


She can’t act. She doesn’t have what it takes to be a dramatic actress. Let her be the comedienne. She looks so great in those dresses she’s been sown into. All she has to do is wiggle and walk and the audience will go crazy. These are phrases “critics,” movie insiders, and “experts” used to describe Marilyn Monroe and her aspirations to be a dramatic actress. These “critics” and “experts” never saw her in Don’t Bother to Knock (1952). As a matter of fact, not many of her fans have seen the movie even today. But it is by far the best performance she ever gave on film. Those around her mention her portrayal of Sugar Kane in Some Like it Hot (1959) or Cherie in Bus Stop (1958). She herself mentioned her portrayal of Angela in The Asphalt Jungle (1950) as her best. But that was a bit part. As for staring roles, she was the best as the psychotic Nell Forbes.

Don’t Bother to Knock would make an interesting remake in today’s Hollywood. For the most part the suspense is great in the picture. There are a few scenes that could be tightened to enhance the suspense. There is a very real fear present in the story, that of a mother who leaves her only child alone with a stranger while she and her husband go out for the night. This is something that occurs every night in America. A woman calls a babysitter and trusts the sitter to take good care of the child until she comes back. Of course there has to be some fear in the back of every mother’s mind that the babysitter turns out to be a psycho and the child is put into danger. This is what happens to Ruth Jones. She leaves her only child, Bunny, to be watched by Nell, who is fresh out of an Oregon mental institution. We aren’t told this, but learn it from Nell’s uncle Eddy, Elisha Cook Jr., who works at the hotel the ?’s are staying at.

The basis for the movie was a rather dull novel called “Mischief” written by Charlotte Armstrong. The book is too spread out for the story to seem plausible. In the movie both Jed, Richard Widmark, and the Jones' stay at the same hotel. They don’t in the book. Because they don’t it seems less likely that the two will ever cross paths. In the movie though everything is tied together. Jed stays at the same hotel as his “girlfriend” Lyn Lesley, played by Anne Bancroft in her first screen appearance. Jed rides up and down the elevator run by Nell’s uncle. He has a room directly across the courtyard from the Jones family, which makes him a perfectly logical person to be caught up in the drama with Nell and Bunny. Like The Maltese Falcon, Don’t Bother to Knock happens to be one of those rare movies that is better than the book. In this case it is far superior.

What is interesting about Marilyn Monroe’s performance as Nell is that she is playing essentially someone from her own family. Her family had a history of psychotic and suicidal behavior. Both her mother and her grandparents on her mother’s side died in mental institutions. In fact, while Marilyn was making this movie her mother was in an institution. It had to be hard for her to wake up every morning and having to prepare herself to play a disturbed woman. Although the cynic would say since she has been around mental illness all her life, she would be perfect for the part.

Being a Hollywood movie, the suicidal Nell is talked out of slashing her wrists and given the hope of treatment in New York. There have been many conspiracy theories regarding Marilyn’s death. To add another one, how about saying that Marilyn’s role in this movie awakened the demons of her family history. She would attempt to commit suicide numerous times throughout the rest of her life after completing this movie, but there was always someone there to save her. Namely, Arthur Miller. There was no Arthur Miller or a Hollywood ending on a Saturday night in August of 1962.

Niagara (1953) is often looked at as Marilyn’s big-break as a star. She plays a conniving woman in that movie, which stars Joseph Cotton as well. It is lauded because it is in color and she looks stunning in her dresses and near the falls. The movie isn’t superior to Don’t Bother to Knock though. In her first leading role Marilyn delivers a great performance as do her co-stars. Don’t Bother to Knock is a must see for those who consider themselves Marilyn Monroe fans. But be warned this isn’t Sugar Kane or The Girl from The Seven Year Itch (1955), this is Marilyn as you’ve never seen her before.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

"You know the story. Most of my life in jail; the rest of it dead! "


In 1936 a new edition to the Warner Brothers rogues gallery appeared. He was an old face both literally and figuratively. He was getting his final chance in Hollywood to become an actor. If this man failed he would be stuck in New York acting stage plays for the rest of his life and his performances would be unseen by audiences today. As it happened, the man in question turned in a brilliant performance, and became one of the biggest movie stars of the 1940s and 1950s.

The story of The Petrified Forest (1936) takes place almost completely inside a diner in the Arizona desert. Here vagabonds come and gather to forget their sorrows. Some feel like they know what they wand from life, others are unsure. It is an interesting story as it follows the lives of seemingly different people, who all happen to be the same. There is Leslie Howard’s character, Alan Squier, who is a writer with great talent. At least that is what everyone said when he was in Europe years ago. Now the writer does not know what he wants and is just content spending his time wondering around the United States. Bette Davis plays Gabrielle, a girl who works as a waitress in her father’s diner. She dreams of going to Europe to study painting. Her mother lives in France and that is the one place Gabrielle wants to visit. She can’t stand being stuck with her ultra-nationalistic father and rich, but full of old-world values grandfather. Her grandfather longs for the old west where Billy the Kid used to roam. Gabrielle doesn’t take to this and spends her life reading a poetry book. When Alan enters her establishment, her whole world changes. She becomes deeply interested in him. He likes her, but doesn’t feel like he is adequate enough to become anything closer than a mentor.

The little world and people of the Arizona diner are in for a big surprise when it is learned that gangster Duke Mantee has escaped and is heading for Arizona. When Mantee arrives he becomes a symbol for Gabrielle’s grandfather of someone who embodies the old gangster. Alan believes he and Duke are cut from the same cloth, each looking for something in life. Mantee, who is played wonderfully by Humphrey Bogart, does a nice job in letting the people he meets carry on with their lives. He is only concerned with leaving the diner alive and with his girl. The troubles of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in his world. Of course the movie ends predictably as Mantee gets captured and Leslie Howard gets to die heroically in the arms of Bette Davis.

Today this movie is remembered as Humphrey Bogart’s first big break in Hollywood. The actor had previously been in movies with Warner Brothers, but hadn’t caught on so he went back to New York. When Robert E. Sherwood wrote the play of The Petrified Forest, he remembered Bogart from another play he saw. Sherwood believed Bogie would make a perfect Mantee. Although Bogie had his doubts he agreed to play the part and was terrific. At this time the country was fascinated with John Dillinger. Bogie looked a bit like Dillinger and with his mechanical walk and unshaven look, he terrified audiences on Broadway.

A huge stage hit is always a hot commodity in Hollywood and Warner Brothers scooped in to buy the rights to it. Leslie Howard was to reprise his role from Broadway. Bette Davis was to make her return to Hollywood after her nasty break-up with Warner Brothers. The two stars would be reunited after appearing together in Of Human Bondage (1934). There was just the issue of casting Duke Mantee. After receiving word from Leslie Howard that he would not appear in the movie if Jack Warner didn’t hire Bogie for the part, Warner extended a second chance to the Broadway actor. The rest as they say is history. Bogie became a huge star and never forgot Howard for sticking up for him. He would name his daughter Leslie.

All the characters in this movie are well drawn. From the main ones to the bit players, like Gabrielle’s supposed boyfriend, Boze, who can’t give up his past football glories or the rich man who is only concerned with money and neglects his wife even when bullets start to fly around the diner and he might be killed. Like all good adaptations of stage plays, the movie keeps what worked on Broadway intact. It is contained to one set and lets its characters do the rest. There are no Fellini or Hitchcock shots here, just pure character studies.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

"The stuff dreams are made of"


In 1941 the world was transformed. World War II began for the United States. In the film world Citizen Kane was unleashed on audiences. A more important development in that celluloid world occurred when Warner Bros. released John Huston’s version of The Maltese Falcon, the movie that spawned the film noir genre and created stars out of two of its participants and new careers for two others.

The story of The Maltese Falcon is an interesting one. It was a tremendous novel written by Dashiell Hammett in 1930. It is credited as being the first real good hardboiled detective piece of fiction. The book was immediately scooped up by Warner Brothers to be made. It was made poorly, twice, before John Huston asked to remake it again. The major reasons why the first two movie versions of the book failed were because the screenwriters deviated from the successful book. Huston, like he did for the rest of his career, remained true to the book. Because of this he produced a movie that is superior to the book. There was also Humphrey Bogart.

Mired in B-pictures throughout his career, Bogart needed this role. He came fresh off of High Sierra (1941), a movie that was lauded as the perfect sendoff for the American gangster as the United States was moving away from Depression Era/Prohibition gangland and looked for its entertainment in another place. That new place would be the dark urban streets. Humphrey Bogart, who played gangsters typically, was perfect for the dark knight in the dark city of 1940s America. He almost didn’t get the role of Sam Spade. Warner Brothers’ first choice for the role was George Raft. But because Raft refused to work with a novice director, the part was given to Bogie. This was the second straight mistake Raft made. He also turned down the lead in High Sierra, saying he was above making gangster pictures. Today, Bogie is well-known, Raft not so much.

Also mired in B-pictures was the German actor Peter Lorre. After his groundbreaking performance as child murder Hans Beckert in Fritz Lang’s M (1931), Lorre became typecast as a villain after emigrating to the United States as the Nazi’s took power in Germany. Having been stuck in villain and Mr. Moto roles, Lorre jumped at the chance to play Joel Cairo for John Huston. Due to the production code present at the time, the characters homosexuality couldn’t be blatant in the script. On screen, Lorre had no problem getting across what was in the book.

The movie is also remarkable because it marked the debut of Sydney Greenstreet. A former Shakespearian actor, Greenstreet was in Los Angeles doing a play when the role of Casper Gutman was offered. He accepted and today the world can admire the performances of a great actor. Had he remained in the theater he might have been an unknown today as there is no way to preserve great stage performances like great screen ones. He and Lorre would team up together to made a great screen combination in numerous other movies. Bogart, Greenstreet and Lorre would appear in 2 more movies together, Casablanca (1942) and Passage to Marseille (1943).

"Children of the night, what music they make"


In 1897 Bram Stoker popularized the legend of the vampire. His character, Count Dracula, immediately captivated the minds of Victorian England. The novel, Dracula, itself is a typical piece of Victorian literature. It is written in the form of journal entries and is full of all that violence and sex that was frowned upon by society.

The modestly successful book wouldn’t spawn a huge culture until the story was brought to the stage and the screen. In Germany, F.W. Murnau made the first, and some consider the best, vampire movie based on Stoker’s book, Nosferatu (1922). The movie was a tremendous example of German Expressionist filmmaking and told the familiar tale of how Dracula comes to England to pray on the blood of young women.

In America, the stage play based on Dracula was successful as well. Needing money, the B-studio Universal bought the rights to the stage play and quickly began production. They thought there was a niche for monster movies that the major studios weren't filling.

One of the actors who they wanted from the play was Edward Van Sloan to play the role of Dr. Van Helsing. It wasn’t until later that the powers of the studio realized that an unknown Hungarian stage actor who spoke little English would be the perfect choice to reprise the role of Count Dracula for the screen. He didn’t know it at the time, but Bela Lugosi would continue to be the face of Dracula over 75 years after he played the role. If anyone doubts that point just wait until the Halloween advertisements come out. All vampire costumes are modeled after those of Lugosi. Any actor who plays the part of Dracula will be compared to him. He is intertwined with the part just like Humphrey Bogart with Sam Spade. They were one and the same. This would hurt Lugosi later in his career as he became typecast as the villain.

Another person of note in this production process was Tod Browning. The director of the movie had tremendous experience in silent features. This would be his first attempt at sound. He made a successful rookie effort. The movie has a lot of silent parts, but they add to the eerie atmosphere. Today that is all the movie has really. It isn’t scary for today’s audiences. It is eerie though and Browning was a master at this. Most notably his skills of the weird would be on display in Freaks (1932), a controversial, yet good movie. Browning also had previous experience working in the horror genre with a tremendous actor. He directed some of the best films Lon Chaney made, at least from those that survive. In fact, Chaney was Universal's first choice for the count, but cancer killed him before he got the chance to play a role many though he would be successful at.

Thats'a No Good


Imagine a movie starring Lucille Ball and the Marx Brothers. Sound great doesn’t it? Well, there was such a movie made. Unfortunately it was made after the Marx Brothers were past their prime and before Lucille Ball hit hers. The movie was Room Service (1938) and it wasn’t very good.

The story behind this one doesn’t involve the Marx Brothers. Room Service was a hit stage play. It just wasn’t a hit stage play with any parts for the Marx Brothers. With this minor problem, and Chico Marx needing money, a team of Marx Brothers writers was set to try and work the three into the script. They succeeded in making the script shootable, but it does lack the Marx Bros. quality.

There aren’t many routines that are funny in this movie. The story isn’t bad as Groucho is a cheap theater producer who has invited his theater company members to stay in a hotel. Of course lacking money to pay the hotel bills and produce a stage play, Groucho goes looking for money. This time he doesn’t find it in the large figure of Margaret Dumont, but rather an unsuspecting businessman. The secretary at this man’s office happens to be Lucille Ball. Groucho succeeds in getting the businessman to put up the money, but has to spend the night in the hotel as the money can’t be gotten until 10 a.m. the next day. This normally isn’t a problem, but Chico got kicked out of his place to stay. Harpo did as well. The playwright of the theater company made the trip to New York in order to see what was taking so long in getting his work produced. To make matters worse, the hotel is clamping down on those who haven’t paid their hotel bills yet.

This seems like a great story for laugher and it works at some points, but overall it is disappointing. The Brothers give stirring renditions of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” throughout the movie. There is a funny scene when the playwright must act sick and Harpo takes a funnel and blows ink spots on the man’s face. Groucho’s wit is there. Chico’s denseness is there. Harpo’s pantomime is there. It just isn’t as sharp as normal. The Marx Brothers, especially Harpo, were known for their surreal humor. There is not much here. Although at one point Groucho turns as a door opens and there is a cut to Chico carrying a moose’s head into the room. The Brothers are capable of getting snickers and laughs here, but not the gut busting stuff of their Paramount days.

Monday, August 11, 2008

A LITTLE BIT OF THE ULTRAVIOLENCE, OH MY BROTHERS


Totalitarianism is a topic tackled by many movies from the middle of the last century. Movies in the ‘40s depicted the evils of Nazism. In the ‘60s it was all about freedom from the older generation. Stanley Kubrick created a movie in 1971 that took on this theme of totalitarianism. It brought the subject out of the academic world and into the XXX theater.

Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) is one of the most revolting movies ever for the first 40 minutes. There are rapes, homeless people being mugged, rapes, delinquency and more rapes. At the same time the world inhabited by Alex and his droogies is not that vile. Alex and friends speak a brand of English that mixes properness with slang terms. He is an admirer of Ludwig Van Beethoven. He is elegant when he has to be and this elegance combined with what happens to him in the second half of the movie is what makes the revolting parts tolerable.

The novel A Clockwork Orange was written by Anthony Burgess. It is one of the best written novels of the 20th Century. The story might not be for everyone, but Burgess’ control of the English language is tremendous. There really isn’t a difference between the book and the movie, except when it comes to the final chapter. Burgess wrote a final chapter that wasn’t released in America for many years after the book was originally published. In that chapter we join Alex 5 years after Alex was cured in the movie. He sees one of his former droogies. This time he isn’t a policeman, but rather a man who has settled down. He now has a fiancée and is expecting a child. This is something Alex decides he wants to do. So in that last chapter he is finally cured of being a delinquent. This is nice and everything, but wouldn’t have worked in a movie. Kubrick did a great job of connecting everything. Like in the book Alex listens to all kinds of composers. Kubrick changed that to Ludwig Van in the movie and only his 5th Symphony. It would have been a mistake to add the final chapter in the book to the movie. Luckily Kubrick didn’t and the movie itself is very good. The novel itself is great.

Malcolm McDowell is brilliant in the role of Alex. He was a young British actor who just came off the set of Lindsay Anderson’s If… (1968). This movie deals with totalitarianism in the English boarding school. It is the perfect precursor to McDowell’s role as Alex. As a few years down the road his character in If…, Mick Travis, could become a member of Alex’s gang or Alex himself.

For Stanley Kubrick he followed up his widely successful 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) with this film. Although not as good as 2001, this is probably his second best effort.

Some more positives include it having one of the best closing images in all of film. Although not quite in the same vein as Charlie Chaplin with a rose in his mouth. It also has one of the best filmed sex scenes in film. Actually it is probably the best done threesome ever. Another interesting thing about this movie is that it was released with a XXX rating. It is now rated R. That might say something about today’s tastes or society’s morals compared to those in 1971.

A Clockwork Orange is a worthwhile movie to see, but a must read book.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

"A Race of Peeping Toms"


Yesterday Dial M For Murder (1954), the movie I thought was the most suspenseful in the Hitchcock catalogue was looked at. Today the movie critics consider to be his most suspenseful will be examined. Since it was remade in 2007 as Disturbia, Rear Window (1954) has come into favor with theorists and critics. It has always been popular with these people. It has also erroneously been called Hitchcock’s best suspense picture.

The major reason why this isn’t Hitchcock’s most suspenseful movie is because it is not as good as the story it was taken from. Cornell Woolrich wrote the short story, "It Had to Be Murder", which would later be changed to "Rear Window" after the success of the movie. Like in the movie we see everything from the apartment of Mr. Jefferies. Except in the book, he is left alone to fend off the attacking murderous salesman. Instead of using flashbulbs, he uses a bust of Ludwig Van Beethoven, more on him tomorrow.

In the movie Hitchcock added a girlfriend for Jefferies in the form of Grace Kelly as the model Lisa. Besides acting as the romantic interest, she acts as the legs for Jefferies in his investigation of unusual things occurring across the way in another apartment building. She steals the show as far as suspense goes when she breaks into the salesman’s apartment and ends up being confronted by the salesman, played by Raymond Burr. Of course she finds Burr’s wife’s weeding ring and points it out to Jefferies. Both proving to Jefferies that the wife is gone and hinting to him that he should marry Lisa. This is a nice Hitchcock touch, but adds nothing to the suspense of the picture.

As was standard with Hitchcock, the basic literary story is kept intact, but changes were made to suit his own style of storytelling. Unfortunately, this isn’t an improvement on the original story. Sometimes, like in the case of The 39 Steps (1935), the improvement is so great that it is hard to distinguish which is better the literary source or the movie. In Rear Window this isn’t the case. The audience feels for Jefferies, played by everyman James Stewart, and for Lisa, but a sense of foreboding isn’t always around like it is in the story. Woolrich makes sure the audience focuses on the investigation Jefferies is conducting from the comfort of his wheelchair. There is no Lisa to be his legs. The wheelchair bound man must fight for himself in such a way that is only hinted at in the movie.

Rear Window isn’t a bad movie at all. It is a tremendous technical achievement as the whole setting was built indoors. That is one complete apartment building, the Jefferies apartment and a courtyard. Even some of the apartments in Raymond Burr’s building were complete. Not the standard building procedure for Hollywood, but for Hitchcock the extra expenses were made. Of course there has been a tremendous return on the investment.

For those looking for a superior version of Disturbia with the always great Hitchcock touches, Rear Window is a must watch.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

The Perfect Murder


Alfred Hitchcock is known as “The Master of Suspense.” This is true when it comes to the film world. In the literary world, no one was a better suspense writer than Frederick Knott. So when the mater of literary suspense had his play optioned by the master of cinematic suspense, a quality movie was sure to be produced. It was in the form of Hitchcock’s most suspenseful picture, Dial M For Murder (1954).

Unlike in other movies adapted from literary works, Hitchcock didn’t tinker with the successful stage play Knott had written. There are a few Hitchcock touches, like stalling the climatic murder sequence by having Ray Milland’s watch stop and then having him wait to make a phone call as someone is using the phone booth. All this heightens the suspense as the audience waits, paralyzed to see if Grace Kelly will be murdered.

Another interesting aspect of this movie is that it was released in 3D. Just like today, in the 1950s the 3D craze was in. Most famously The Creature From the Black Lagoon (1954) was shot in this way. Hitchcock had amazing foresight, one of the qualities which make his movies so wonderful for today’s audiences, and felt that the 3D craze was just a fad. In order to not ruin his movie, but still give in to the 3D crazy studio bosses, Hitchcock used to form sparingly, but effectively. The most breathtaking example of 3D occurred while Grace Kelly was being strangled. At one point she reaches back for a pair of scissors. For an audience watching this in 3D it seemed like she was reaching out at them. In today’s prints without the 3D the shot is still stunning.

Knott’s story is not that original. A husband wants to kill his wealthy wife for the insurance money. It is the motive in countless suspense or mystery stories. What makes this so suspenseful is that Ray Milland’s character, Tony, sets out how the murder will be committed. From there the audience is hooked as to how everything should go. It is up to Knott and in the movie Hitchcock to introduce devices that stall the plan and make the audience squirm as they wait for Grace Kelly to be murdered. It is suspense at its most basic, but most brilliant. Anyone looking for a quick lesson on what suspense is and how to effectively use it should watch this movie.

A key aspect to making the suspense work is the way Ray Milland acts. He is a suave criminal who is completely confident in his ability. He meticulously blackmails common criminal Charles Swann, played by Anthony Dawson, to help him murder his wife. Throughout the audience wants Tony to be successful. Ray Milland gives a great performance. As does Grace Kelly, who seems unaware of the whole thing. Robert Cummings as Mark, the American, is good in a supporting role. As is detective, and constant Hitchcock supporting actor, John Williams.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Amen!


Sidney Pottier only has one Academy Award. He is known for his performance in The Defiant Ones (1958), Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967), A Raisin in the Sun (1961) and In the Heat of the Night (1967). But he didn’t win an Academy Award for any of these performances. His lone Oscar was earned for his portrayal of Homer Smith in Lilies of the Field (1963).

Before there was Crash (2004), before it was trendy to be politically correct in dealing with racial relations, there was Lilies of the Field. This movie defines racial relations, while providing religious context and humor. In the movie Sidney Pottier’s vagabond Homer Smith ends up in the southwestern desert. Needing water for his radiator he stops off at a nunnery. The nuns give him water in return for help patching their leaky roof. It should be noted that these nuns are recent immigrants from Germany. They are also a pushing bunch and demand that Smith stay to help build them a chapel for the small village nearby. Smith reluctantly agrees and is never fully committed until Mexicans come into the picture.

The most poignant racial scene in the movie occurs when Smith watches as the German speaking Anglo nuns try to describe to the Spanish speaking Mexicans about where materials for their chapel need to be put. As the two sides are unable to communicate, Smith comes in and explains what the nuns want to the Mexicans. The three racial groups end up getting along and putting the chapel together for the good of the community.

This movie doesn’t beat you over the head with race like Crash did or go to extremes like American History X (1998). Race is dealt with in a mature, subtle manner. Although there isn’t an Oscar worthy speech made by Pottier about the ills of racism, or an over-the-top performance that creates a new acting style – Pottier is perfect as Homer Smith. He brings humor to the nuns during his English lessons. They loosen up and begin to adopt him as one of their own. It is sad to see him leave them in the end, but the audience doesn’t leave on a down note, rather they are left with the catchy hymn that has been a recurring theme throughout the movie. Simply put, Lilies of the Field is one of the most underrated movies made. It should be required viewing for anyone interested in positive stories, great writing and good acting.

"You Magnificent Bastard"


Great acting is a quality that is lacking in today’s Hollywood. This is one of the reasons why I enjoy watching classic movies. Acting is one of the reasons why Patton (1970) won seven Academy Awards. George C. Scott dominates the picture as eccentric World War II General George S. Patton.

This isn’t a typical war movie though. Instead of being filled with amazing battle scenes like Saving Private Ryan (1998), this one focuses more on the humans involved in the conflict, specifically General Patton and his effect on the European side of the war.

Through a combination of writing, Francis Ford Coppola received an Academy Award for co-authoring the screenplay, and magnificent acting by Scott and supporting actor Karl Malden, the tale of Patton comes to life like no other general’s life story has. It is interesting to see the contrast between the comfortable, cocky Scott and the more uptight Malden. It isn’t a typical clash between the young and the old, as Patton believed in reincarnation and was a lifetime military man. The tension between the two men comes from their different views toward battle. Patton believed he was a superior strategist. Malden’s General Bradley was more in line with normal military men and was able to toe the line General Eisenhower set, which in the end led him to have more power than General Patton did. Of course today we remember Patton more than Bradley.

This remembrance of Patton more so than any other general in World War II, excepting Eisenhower, is due in large part because of this movie. For those interested in great acting or an interesting character study, Patton is a must see. It is the best performance in the distinguished career of Scott. It also marks the beginning of Coppola’s career.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Passage Through the Dark


Dark Passage (1947) is a typical film noir. It is the tale of a San Quentin escapee who is harbored by the daughter of a death row inmate. She makes sure the guy remains safe while he recovers from plastic surgery to his face. With a new face the guy goes after those who set him up for the murder of his wife. The same crime the father of the girl was put up for.

So what makes Dark Passage different? Mainly it is Humphrey Bogart in the lead role and Lauren Bacall as the leading lady. This was the third of four movies the two made together. This happens to be the worst of the four. Of course there is some stiff competition. The two had already made To Have and Have Not (1944), The Big Sleep (1946) and were going to make Key Largo (1948). As always with these two the chemistry is alive and well. Any parts without the two seem to lull.

Another interesting aspect of the movie is that the first half is shot completely from the point of view of Humphrey Bogart’s character, Vincent Perry. This is before he gets the plastic surgery. It makes sense to shoot it like this. Either there needed to be two actors. In that case the Vincent would have to go in for vocal chord surgery as well because Bogart and the other actor wouldn’t have the same voice. Or Bogart could be caked in make-up and then appear as his normal self after the plastic surgery. This probably wouldn’t have worked either. At this point Bogart was a huge star and I doubt Warner Brothers would want to see their huge star turned into something unrecognizable to the public. Besides, there wasn’t much a make-up person could to do Bogart’s face that would make him look completely different. So the experiment of shooting from one character’s perspective throughout the first part of the movie works here. Lady in the Lake (1947) also employs the same technique.

Other than the interesting style of the first half and Bogie and Bacall there isn’t much more that stands out. There is an interesting shot of the Golden Gate Bridge area. Of course the same area would be made famous 11 years later in Vertigo (1958). Comparing the famous Vertigo scene near the water and the one a few yards away in Dark Passage could be of interest to those fans of movies shot in San Francisco or of Vertigo.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Rosebud



What better way to begin a classic movie blog then to discuss the movie that is considered to be the best of all time. I don’t happen to be one of those who believes that Citizen Kane (1941) is the best movie ever. I don’t even think it was the best movie of 1941. If the Academy Awards are any measure, and they shouldn’t be, then John Ford’s How Green Was My Valley was the best picture of that year. I disagree with the Academy as well. For me, John Huston’s The Maltese Falcon was the best of 1941, mainly because it took German Expressionism and Americanized it as film noir.

I enjoy watching movies with great stories. Citizen Kane doesn’t have a great story. It is technically brilliant thanks to Gregg Toland’s cinematography. This is where Kane stands out. We are introduced to deep focus, where both the players in the foreground and the background are in focus. There are also elements of noir in the shadows and lighting applied throughout the movie. These are the reasons why Kane is remembered. It is also remembered because of who made it and who it was based on and the story about how it almost wasn’t released.

Orson Welles was the boy genius, having been famous already for terrifying New York during the famous War of the Worlds broadcast. He came to Hollywood with the most control any director ever had. His first picture at RKO didn’t work out though. So he moved on to something different. Being the arrogant man that he was, and really all filmmakers are, he decided to attack the king of the American media at the time, William Randolph Hearst.

Teaming with Herman J. Mankiewicz, a frequent guest of Hearst’s San Simeon Estate, the two wrote Citizen Kane. The story is about a man who was larger than life, but dies alone, uttering the words Rosebud seconds before he dies. A newsreel man is sent to investigate the meaning of George Foster Kane’s final words. Taking an interesting approach to storytelling, we learn of Kane’s rise and fall through the words of his second wife, his guardian, his business advisor, his best friend, his second wife again and his business advisor. This is an interesting way to tell a story, cutting it up and having the audience reassemble it, but it doesn’t work for me. Much like Pulp Fiction (1994), I believe the story was so weak that a gimmick had to be employed in order to make the movie work.

As gimmicky as the story may be, it is highly inaccurate in regards to William Randolph Hearst. Although everyone in the Hearst empire demeaned Welles for making the movie, and very nearly got the prints of it destroyed, Hearst himself never said anything about it. He was used to be portrayed in a poor light, so this was no different. It was the portrayal of the women in Hearst’s life that probably got him angry. Hearst’s mother, Phoebe, is dipected in the movie as uncaring for her only child. This is untrue as Phoebe loved and pampered her son. To paraphrase a quote in another classic movie, Hearst’s best friend was his mother.

The first wife of Kane’s is the niece of the president, Emily. Hearst’s wife Millicent was a chorus girl. This doesn’t seem so bad as Millicent is made into an upperclass woman, but in the movie she is killed off. Millicent actually outlived Hearst.

The worst female portrayal in the movie has to be of Marion Davies. Hearst’s mistress is portrayed as a drunk opera singer with no talent named Susan. The drinking part is true, but the talentless part isn’t. Davies happened to be a tremendous talent in Hollywood silent films. Her career ended basically when the talkies arrived. She stuttered and was unable to effectively make the transition to sound, like a lot of other actors and actresses. This is why Hollywood went East to recruit the best of Broadway.

Citizen Kane should be applauded for its groundbreaking cinematography, although Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca (1940) used the same opening and closing shots. Other than this special distinction, Kane isn’t that great of a movie. Orson Welles was a better actor in The Third Man (1949) and Joseph Cotton was better in Shadow of a Doubt (1943). To end on a positive, the movie not only marked the debut of legends Welles and Cotton, but also composer Bernard Herrmann, who would become famous for his scores with Alfred Hitchcock and his final one for Taxi Driver (1976).