|
Post by topbilled on Jan 8, 2024 14:27:14 GMT
This neglected film is from 1932.
A gentleman burglar
In some ways the Arsene Lupin character, a gentleman thief, is a perfect counterpoint to Sherlock Holmes, a gentleman detective. They were created by different writers, but the author of the Lupin stories, Maurice Leblanc, wrote a short story in which Lupin encounters Holmes. Not surprisingly, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Holmes’ creator, sued Leblanc. When the Arsene Lupin story by Leblanc was republished, Sherlock Holmes became Herlock Sholmes. I am sure this didn’t fool readers!
We might also compare Arsene Lupin to another character, Raffles. Like Arsene Lupin, Raffles is a suave thief who is usually one step ahead of the police. Both characters are irresistible to women; and though they operate on the wrong side of the law, they end up doing things for the good of society. When MGM adapted Leblanc’s material for this 1932 precode, Sam Goldwyn had already had a hit adapting Raffles in 1930 with Ronald Colman in the lead role.
I am sure these stories were more popular than ever in the Depression. Why? Because we have the thieves going all Robin Hood– robbing from the rich– which must have been fun for struggling moviegoers to watch when the U.S. was in the doldrums economically.
There is probably a little bit of ‘let’s see how much we can get away with’ in all of us. Of course, the enforcement of the production code two years later meant these stories were revised to play up the idea that crime really doesn’t pay. MGM rebooted the character in 1938’s ARSENE LUPIN RETURNS, with debonair star Melvyn Douglas taking over; and in that later version, the characters were still cunning, but not so amoral.
One interesting aspect of the 1932 production is it features John Barrymore as Lupin, pitted against the inspector, who is played by his real-life brother Lionel Barrymore. Later in 1932 the two brothers would team up in RASPUTIN AND THE EMPRESS, which included their sister Ethel Barrymore. In this film, they perform scenes opposite Karen Morley.
From what I have read, the Barrymore brothers had a professional rivalry going on, but they were quite different from each other. In terms of casting, they’d never be up for the same types of roles. For example, I don’t think the audience would have bought Lionel as Arsene Lupin, which translated from the French means quite literally ‘virile male flower.’
Incidentally, Leblanc first published his stories about Arsene Lupin’s daring exploits in a French magazine called Je Sais Tout. Translated into English, this means ‘I Know Everything.’ I don’t think this necessarily applies to our main character, because if Lupin knew everything, he’d certainly know how to keep from being arrested.
The magazine was devoted to fiction that used scientific plot points. Not necessarily science fiction as we know it today, but fiction where science was used to solve a mystery or something that was previously unexplained by other methods. But in addition to police using a scientific approach to nab a thief, Leblanc’s stories also included fantasy and supernatural elements. One of Arsene Lupin’s girlfriends was the daughter of a magician. Maybe he thought her father could help him go up in a cloud of smoke and disappear with all the jewels.
|
|
|
Post by Fading Fast on Jan 8, 2024 14:53:01 GMT
Arsene Lupin from 1932 with John Barrymore, Lionel Barrymore and Karen Morley
Arsene Lupin is a good movie, but to fully appreciate it today you have to think of it in a 1932 context: the technology that looks quaint now was state of the art, the Barrymore brothers were mega-stars appearing together and it was the era of the "society burglar."
Arsene Lupin is one such society thief who preys upon the wealthy of Paris by stealing their jewels, artwork and bonds. He's notorious in the truest sense of the word.
He leaves tantalizing and brash notes for the police and his victims at the scene of his crimes. He is presumed to move anonymously amongst the upper class, which gives him the information and access necessary to commit his crimes.
Trying to catch him is a noted French police detective played by Lionel Barrymore who wants capturing Lupin to be the capstone to his career.
Barrymore suspects the Duke of Charmerace, played by John Barrymore, but evidence points to others as well, even to Lionel Barrymore's character himself as he shares Lupin's limp and other physical traits of the noted thief.
Like many early movies, it's very stagey with most of the action taking place over a few days in a couple of stately mansions. It is easy to see how this story started life as a play.
As was the wont of these types of pictures, the Barrymore brothers engage in much repartee as they try to catch or misdirect the other, leaving the viewer to wonder who is really Lupin.
Thrown into the mix is a, mabey, Russian seductrix, played by the pretty and lythe blonde Karen Morley, who introduces herself to John Barrymore by waiting for him naked in his bed.
There's a silly explanation about her dress being repaired, but we all get it: she's there to sex-up the picture and she fulfills her mission.
The movie, though, is driven by Barrymore and Barrymore matching wits and acting talents - John is still a bit stagey; Lionel understood motion-picture acting better by now.
Also providing some kick to the picture is a cool cutting-edge-for-1932 electrified safe, several disguises, a few Keystone Cop scenes, the Mona Lisa and a surprising amount of witness tampering and police deal making.
The conclusion is fun and satisfying in a lighthearted movie way that's done almost with a wink and nod to the audience saying we hope you enjoyed the ride.
Today, with the leading edge of crime having moved to the world of zeros and ones, movies like Arsene Lupin are fun trips to a fantasy world of elegant criminals and polished detectives operating within a code of honor.
Even in 1932, crime was probably never really quite this refined and sophisticated, but it’s fun as heck to think it was.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Jan 23, 2024 15:10:09 GMT
This neglected film is from 1939.
Crawford’s career on thin ice
As a Joan Crawford fan (and yes the word fan comes from fanatic), this is a painful film for me to watch. You really do have to suspend disbelief and question why MGM bosses thought the actress would be a good fit for this project. She’s handed a role in which she plays an ice skater, that’s right— ice skater. It doesn’t really seem as if she’s able to hold her own on the ice, even for basic strides.
The editors often cut to a double for a long-shot, or if a long shot cannot be used, because we are supposed to see her perform dialogue…then the action of a scene typically starts with her walking off the ice, with the character having supposedly just performed a fancy routine we did not see.
Crawford’s a trouper and looks glamorous as ever, but I am sure she even wondered why they gave her this script. They would never have given something like this to Norma Shearer or Greta Garbo. Was the front office trying to sabotage her? Crawford’s appeal had been waning since 1936’s THE GORGEOUS HUSSY. At one point, the critics grouped her with several peers that were deemed box office poison. Did MGM think this film would help revive her career? It wasn’t until her next effort, as the vampish husband stealer in George Cukor’s THE WOMEN (1939), that she would rebound.
It’s obvious the studio wanted to cash in on the ice skating musical craze popularized by Sonja Henie at Fox. They might have even tried to borrow Miss Henie’s services on loan out but failed. So, instead, they told Crawford to lace up some skates and get busy.
Another thing that works against this film: Crawford usually performed well opposite strong leading men like Clark Gable. Pairing her in this venture with Lew Ayres and James Stewart who are definitely not he-men types causes the story to feel weaker than it should. Neither one of the two male actors have any visible chemistry with Crawford; in fact, it could be argued they have more chemistry with each other.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say THE ICE FOLLIES OF 1939 is a total failure, since there are some engaging bits…but it is still embarrassing. The studio’s glossy production values are in full evidence. Good support is provided by Lewis Stone, who made a million movies at MGM and always did well assisting the newer bigger stars.
Oh, and there’s an interesting skating sequence at the end, done in Technicolor. Naturally, they have found a reason for Crawford not to perform the routine. She is glimpsed watching the merriment on ice.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Jan 27, 2024 14:19:25 GMT
This neglected film is from 1943.
Effective anti-Nazi propaganda
The background for this motion picture is quite interesting, maybe more interesting than the film itself. It’s an excellent piece of anti-Nazi propaganda…a “B” film turned out by personnel from poverty row studio PRC. Some of them were top-tier filmmakers in Germany such as cinematographer Eugen Schufftan and director Douglas Sirk. Despite a low budget, it’s made by competent craftsmen.
MGM boss Louis Mayer liked the film so much, he bought it from the original financiers when they were looking for a distributor. This delayed its release into theaters, since Mayer wanted scenes reshot and a few more added. So, a film made on a shoestring suddenly had its budget expanded.
Sirk, Schufftan, and one of the original producers (Seymour Nebenzal) were Germans in exile, and they depict the Nazis in a more realistic way than other films covering the same ground. The people of Lidice, Czechoslovakia are presented realistically too– the entire village of Lidice was wiped out by the Nazis.
When the Nazis gained power in Eastern Europe and took over neighboring countries, they would station “protectors” over these acquired regions. The high-ranking officials reported to Adolf Hitler and Heinrich Himmler. Underneath them were other officials and town mayors. In this case, the mayor of Lidice was a man who turned on his people and swore allegiance to The Fuhrer.
The protectors would usually drive through the various regions under their control and if something seemed off to them, the mayor and local police would be notified. One day the protector of this region (John Carradine) notices a religious assembly in Lidice. His vehicle stops, he hops out with his men, and they confront the local priest and townsfolk. Carradine is angry, because the people do not have a permit to gather in public.
During a quarrel with the priest, whom Carradine is trying to provoke, the priest is shot and killed. This is the first real violence in the area. Carradine plans to drive back through the village the next morning to see if the mayor has gotten the people back in line.
Before Carradine appears, life is idyllic. The people of Lidice may be under German control, but their way of life has not changed drastically. A resistance fighter (Alan Curtis) shows up; he’s a Czech who’s been working with American and British allies in England. He is reunited with his girlfriend (Patricia Morison), and he tries to convince her father (Ralph Morgan) to resist the Nazis.
It isn’t until Carradine kills the priest that Morgan and the townsfolk realize they need to take a stand against the Nazi regime. The mayor’s wife also sides with them, because her two sons were killed on the Russian front fighting for the Fuhrer, which upsets her terribly.
In real life Carradine’s character was ambushed along a road outside Lidice. Sirk’s film depicts that, though it takes dramatic license with some of it. This version has Curtis’ girlfriend ride a bike into the middle of the road to slow down Carradine’s jeep, so that Curtis and Morgan can get off a few good shots with their rifles.
The real life ambush did not involve any women, and the death of Carradine’s character occurred much quicker. The movie drags it out for maximum dramatic effect– before Carradine dies, we see Curtis run off with Morison; then she is shot and killed by Nazi soldiers in the woods.
After their love story concludes, we have a lengthy death scene for Carradine. Just before he finally goes to that big swastika in the sky, Himmler arrives to see him. The movie fails to include an interesting fact about the protector’s death, such as how he refused to let local Czech doctors treat his injuries, since he felt these men were inferior to German doctors.
After Carradine dies, the last ten minutes are devoted to a bloody reprisal against the village of Lidice. During a comical phone call with Hitler, Himmler decides to destroy the entire village.
The atrocities committed against the people of Lidice are staggering. Although HITLER’S MADMAN was made during the production code era, the firing squad scenes are rather graphic. Probably because the film had been originally made at PRC. If the story had started at MGM with an American director, my guess is it would have been much tamer, more sanitized.
The scenes of mass death, and the fires that level the village are expertly staged, and the movie ends on a very somber note. However, the final sequence is also presented as something meant to inspire audiences…where moviegoers should want to carry on and fight the Nazis on behalf of those who were slaughtered that day, the 10th of June 1942, in Lidice.
A few things crossed my mind when I watched HITLER’S MADMAN. First, I don’t think the Nazis and their underlings were ever buffoons. I’d say they were very brutal, very calculating. Eradicating a village was an extreme act that was in every way imaginable, a deliberate (and in their minds, justifiable) measure.
Second, Sirk had actually met the man whose character Carradine is based on, so it’s interesting that he ended up becoming a “biographer” of Reinhard Heydrich through the art of motion pictures; one German denouncing another. Third, the event occurred early during America’s involvement in the war. Americans entered the war in December 1941. The massacre of Lidice took place just six months later, and there would be another three years before Hitler and Himmler were brought down. Fourth, it’s a powerful film that must have been shocking for audiences, particularly the final sequence. It’s powerful and shocking to watch now, all these years later.
Fifth, I think there is still a lot of radical militant behavior occurring in the world today, some of it in our own country; so this movie and the legacy of Lidice is just as relevant as ever. And finally, I think this is a movie you have to watch with all other distractions drowned out. It’s something where you have to embrace the propaganda, yet put it into perspective, but also realize the deeper message about the value of human life. The Nazis wanted to remove all traces of Lidice. But Sirk’s film helps Lidice live. And if you watch HITLER’S MADMAN and absorb its message, you will be helping Lidice live.
|
|
|
Post by NoShear on Jan 27, 2024 18:34:01 GMT
This neglected film is from 1943.
Effective anti-Nazi propaganda
The background for this motion picture is quite interesting, maybe more interesting than the film itself. It’s an excellent piece of anti-Nazi propaganda…a “B” film turned out by personnel from poverty row studio PRC. Some of them were top-tier filmmakers in Germany such as cinematographer Eugen Schufftan and director Douglas Sirk. Despite a low budget, it’s made by competent craftsmen.
MGM boss Louis Mayer liked the film so much, he bought it from the original financiers when they were looking for a distributor. This delayed its release into theaters, since Mayer wanted scenes reshot and a few more added. So, a film made on a shoestring suddenly had its budget expanded.
Sirk, Schufftan, and one of the original producers (Seymour Nebenzal) were Germans in exile, and they depict the Nazis in a more realistic way than other films covering the same ground. The people of Lidice, Czechoslovakia are presented realistically too– the entire village of Lidice was wiped out by the Nazis.
When the Nazis gained power in Eastern Europe and took over neighboring countries, they would station “protectors” over these acquired regions. The high-ranking officials reported to Adolf Hitler and Heinrich Himmler. Underneath them were other officials and town mayors. In this case, the mayor of Lidice was a man who turned on his people and swore allegiance to The Fuhrer.
The protectors would usually drive through the various regions under their control and if something seemed off to them, the mayor and local police would be notified. One day the protector of this region (John Carradine) notices a religious assembly in Lidice. His vehicle stops, he hops out with his men, and they confront the local priest and townsfolk. Carradine is angry, because the people do not have a permit to gather in public.
During a quarrel with the priest, whom Carradine is trying to provoke, the priest is shot and killed. This is the first real violence in the area. Carradine plans to drive back through the village the next morning to see if the mayor has gotten the people back in line.
Before Carradine appears, life is idyllic. The people of Lidice may be under German control, but their way of life has not changed drastically. A resistance fighter (Alan Curtis) shows up; he’s a Czech who’s been working with American and British allies in England. He is reunited with his girlfriend (Patricia Morison), and he tries to convince her father (Ralph Morgan) to resist the Nazis.
It isn’t until Carradine kills the priest that Morgan and the townsfolk realize they need to take a stand against the Nazi regime. The mayor’s wife also sides with them, because her two sons were killed on the Russian front fighting for the Fuhrer, which upsets her terribly.
In real life Carradine’s character was ambushed along a road outside Lidice. Sirk’s film depicts that, though it takes dramatic license with some of it. This version has Curtis’ girlfriend ride a bike into the middle of the road to slow down Carradine’s jeep, so that Curtis and Morgan can get off a few good shots with their rifles.
The real life ambush did not involve any women, and the death of Carradine’s character occurred much quicker. The movie drags it out for maximum dramatic effect– before Carradine dies, we see Curtis run off with Morison; then she is shot and killed by Nazi soldiers in the woods.
After their love story concludes, we have a lengthy death scene for Carradine. Just before he finally goes to that big swastika in the sky, Himmler arrives to see him. The movie fails to include an interesting fact about the protector’s death, such as how he refused to let local Czech doctors treat his injuries, since he felt these men were inferior to German doctors.
After Carradine dies, the last ten minutes are devoted to a bloody reprisal against the village of Lidice. During a comical phone call with Hitler, Himmler decides to destroy the entire village.
The atrocities committed against the people of Lidice are staggering. Although HITLER’S MADMAN was made during the production code era, the firing squad scenes are rather graphic. Probably because the film had been originally made at PRC. If the story had started at MGM with an American director, my guess is it would have been much tamer, more sanitized.
The scenes of mass death, and the fires that level the village are expertly staged, and the movie ends on a very somber note. However, the final sequence is also presented as something meant to inspire audiences…where moviegoers should want to carry on and fight the Nazis on behalf of those who were slaughtered that day, the 10th of June 1942, in Lidice.
A few things crossed my mind when I watched HITLER’S MADMAN. First, I don’t think the Nazis and their underlings were ever buffoons. I’d say they were very brutal, very calculating. Eradicating a village was an extreme act that was in every way imaginable, a deliberate (and in their minds, justifiable) measure.
Second, Sirk had actually met the man whose character Carradine is based on, so it’s interesting that he ended up becoming a “biographer” of Reinhard Heydrich through the art of motion pictures; one German denouncing another. Third, the event occurred early during America’s involvement in the war. Americans entered the war in December 1941. The massacre of Lidice took place just six months later, and there would be another three years before Hitler and Himmler were brought down. Fourth, it’s a powerful film that must have been shocking for audiences, particularly the final sequence. It’s powerful and shocking to watch now, all these years later.
Fifth, I think there is still a lot of radical militant behavior occurring in the world today, some of it in our own country; so this movie and the legacy of Lidice is just as relevant as ever. And finally, I think this is a movie you have to watch with all other distractions drowned out. It’s something where you have to embrace the propaganda, yet put it into perspective, but also realize the deeper message about the value of human life. The Nazis wanted to remove all traces of Lidice. But Sirk’s film helps Lidice live. And if you watch HITLER’S MADMAN and absorb its message, you will be helping Lidice live.
I know I beat the proverbial dead horse, TopBilled, but why aren't you programming for T CM?
|
|
|
Post by NoShear on Jan 27, 2024 22:23:32 GMT
^ Same for you, Fading Fast.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Feb 4, 2024 14:56:50 GMT
This neglected film is from 1932.
Precode business melodrama
What sort of people spend their time in a big city skyscraper during the Great Depression? If you’re a character in precode Hollywood, you’re either a pretty office gal (Maureen O’Sullivan) in danger of being corrupted; or you’re a wolfish exec (Warren William) who does the corrupting. Based on a story by bestselling author Faith Baldwin, this was MGM’s corporate version of GRAND HOTEL.
Like GRAND HOTEL, there are multiple storylines with assorted types— many of them stereotypes— conducting business. Their business is personal as well as professional. On the surface, most of these folks aren’t too likable, though O’Sullivan always radiates pleasant vibes on screen. Costar Jean Hersholt, playing a nice guy who works in the same building, is also fairly likable.
Originally, the studio planned to make the story with Madge Evans in O’Sullivan’s role; and her love interest was going to be Robert Young. Evans was replaced by O’Sullivan; and Young’s role was given to Norman Foster. Playing the ruthless owner of the skyscraper, we have Warren William on loan-out from Warner Brothers in the top billed role. William played another clever entrepreneur in THE MATCH KING…and would play a tycoon in UPPER WORLD.
Some of the supporting players are doing what one expects of them. Hersholt, mentioned above, is a successful jeweler who has a crush on a model (Anita Page) who earns more prostituting herself. They have a beautiful scene near the end, where she realizes how wrong her life is and agrees to be Hersholt’s wife.
We also have Hedda Hopper on hand as William’s materialistic wife, who drops by every so often for a check to continue her extravagant shopping sprees and international jet setting. Hopper specialized in well-to-do socialites before Natalie Schafer came along.
In addition to Hersholt and Hopper, the other notable supporting players are Verree Teasdale and Wallace Ford. Teasdale is William’s mistress, until he decides he’d rather pursue O’Sullivan and casts her aside. Meanwhile, Ford plays a guy who loses everything in the stock market and resorts to desperate measures. Teasdale and Ford experience unfortunate deaths.
A portion of the plot concerns the topic of stock market manipulation and fears of financially staying afloat. Everyone wants to climb the ladder of success, but do they have enough savvy and ambition to make it to the top? Once they get there, as Warren William’s character does, can they manage to stay on top?
Some of the same ground would be explored by MGM in the studio’s 1954 offering EXECUTIVE SUITE. That later picture contained ‘50s morality and parameters defined by the production code. However, the people/souls in this SKYSCRAPER openly use sex to advance. They navigate across a gray line of corruptibility and don’t seem to have regrets or qualms about what they think it takes to get ahead, until something very dramatic happens.
|
|
|
Post by Fading Fast on Feb 4, 2024 15:50:45 GMT
⇧ "... though O’Sullivan always radiates pleasant vibes on screen" That captures it well.
|
|
|
Post by Fading Fast on Feb 4, 2024 15:55:27 GMT
Skyscraper Souls from 1932 with Warren William, Maureen O'Sullivan, Verree Teasdale and Hedda Hopper
In the 1920s and early 1930s, until the Depression put an end to the frantic building of skyscrapers, the public was fascinated with the new vertical behemoths.
The construction of marque buildings like the Woolworth Tower, the Chrysler Building and the Empire State (the last two briefly competed for the title of world's tallest) were closely followed by the public. They were technological marvels in their day.
Hollywood, of course, didn't miss a beat, putting out several stories about these soaring edifices that provided many Americans their first opportunity to see one.
In Skyscraper Souls, MGM lets it rip in this dripping-in-sex-and-financial-chicanery tale of the "souls" whose lives center around the world's tallest skyscraper.
Warren William plays the man who had the vision to build the hundred-story monument to his ego, but who now faces losing his building as a note is coming due and he's scrambling to refinance. Equally challenging is William's love life.
His friendly wife is played with pitch-perfect insouciance by Hedda Hopper. She's happy to take his money in return for regularly disappearing so that he can have paramours whom he tells he can't marry because, he says, his wife won't give him a divorce.
While dealing with his financial troubles, William's long-time paramour, played with sensitivity by Verree Teasdale, who's also the building's business manager (women were smart, successful and sexy in pre-codes), discovers he's lying about his wife denying him a divorce.
Worse, Teasdale discovers that William is "dating" her pretty young secretary played by Maureen O'Sullivan. That hurts.
O'Sullivan is all but the co-star in this one as her captivating cuteness masks a complex character who falls for a bank clerk (played with annoying pushiness by Norman Foster). O'Sullivan, though, outright tells him she won't marry him because he's too poor.
Instead, and after resisting at first, O'Sullivan gives in to William's advances as we see that she, too, has a libido that finds money and power intoxicating. Plus bank clerk Foster is so annoying, you don't blame her.
It's a complex role that O'Sullivan proves more than equal too. While O'Sullivan had a successful career with plenty of good parts in the 1930s, one has to wonder why this incredibly talented actress remained one level below that decade's top female stars.
Skyscraper Souls has several risqué subplots working including a jeweler falling in love with a prostitute, a dressmaker who can't keep his models in line and other building denizens with amorous challenges. It's an early version of overlapping soap-opera stories centered on a single location.
Back in the main plot, William is up for his multiple problems as he masterminds a morally nasty, but legal-for-the-day, pump-and-dump stock scheme (the Security Act of 1934 would change that) that could bankrupt his long-time partners, but secure the building for himself.
William is also desperately trying to edge Teasdale into "retirement" with a padded pension (he's not always cruel), so that he can move on to O'Sullivan. Objectively, William is a selfish ba***rd, but he's also a captivating and complex man who changed the world.
Even those who see through his charm, often still like him. Actor William is in his sweet spot here as he was born to play a powerful man of questionable morality who succeeds by drive, smarts and charisma.
The climax has Greek Tragedy overtones as William, at the end, is on top of the world with the building now secure and O'Sullivan conquered, but then a blow from an unlikely source befalls him. Will he survive or has it all been a struggle for naught?
Skyscraper Souls has been eclipsed in reputation today by similar movies from the same era like Grand Hotel or Dinner at Eight.
The movie deserves, though, to sit beside those two as an outstanding example of precode Hollywood blending the themes of sex, power, business and cutting-edge technology into one heck of a captivating soap opera.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Feb 4, 2024 16:20:46 GMT
I liked SKYSCRAPER SOULS more than I thought I would. I had trouble staying with it the first 15 minutes, but then once the characters started clicking for me, I was hooked. I really loved the subplot with Jean Hersholt and Anita Page...it had such depth to it.
Also, I thought George Barbier, whom I didn't mention in my review, did an outstanding job as one of the movers and shakers that Warren William's character outfoxes.
I didn't care for Gregory Ratoff as the dressmaker. I thought that subplot could have easily been removed without affecting the outcome of the main storylines.
I would liked to have seen a bit more with Hedda Hopper's character. I suspect she had a young male companion on the side, and was doing what her husband had been doing.
I ended up giving the film a score of 9 out of 10 on the IMDb. And I agree with Fading Fast's comment that it should be held up alongside DINNER AT EIGHT and GRAND HOTEL as one of MGM's most intriguing ensemble pictures from the precode era.
|
|
|
Post by sagebrush on Feb 6, 2024 20:06:22 GMT
I don't think any actor's career was changed more by the code than Warren William. He performed seedy roles to perfection, without really being detestable. He was good after the code went into effect, too, but not nearly as fun!
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Feb 9, 2024 13:46:23 GMT
This neglected film is from 1953.
Meat the faculty
Two writers came up with the idea for this story. One of them was humorist Max Shulman, known for creating the character of Dobie Gillis. And the other was Herman Wouk, who’s associated with historical fiction such as The Caine Mutiny. The men had the same agent, Harold Matson…and he convinced them to collaborate on ‘A Steak for Connie,’ which was the original title of this MGM comedy.
Though it’s mostly a whimsical tale, there are some serious points being made. The main idea concerns itself with the cost of living, and how a couple can barely survive on the husband’s meager wages. In this case, the husband (Van Johnson) is a grossly underpaid college professor whose goal is to educate youth, instead of laboring for big business.
Janet Leigh plays Johnson’s wife, and she has a very easy rapport with him (they made two other pictures together). She spends her days homemaking. She is also expecting a baby, and in the very first scenes we are told during a visit to her doctor that she’s just completed her third month of pregnancy. The doctor thinks she looks pale and tells her she needs to eat meat, to keep up her strength for the baby. But she says they cannot afford meat since her husband’s salary is not substantial.
What we are getting here is a plea for audiences to do something after the movie is over, so that teachers will start to get paid more. As someone who’s worked in the field of education, I find it interesting that this was an issue in the early 1950s since it is still an issue today in many states across the country. The teaching profession may be noble, but it’s historically been underpaid.
Into this situation comes Johnson’s old man (Louis Calhern), a proud Texan who owns a huge ranch. Calhern is a cattle rancher, and his livelihood is selling beef. Some jokes are made about how he won’t eat fish, yet that is what Leigh serves him when he arrives for an extended visit, because fish was all she could afford at the store.
Part of the backstory involves a falling out that Johnson had with Calhern several years earlier. To say they have a tense relationship is putting it mildly. Calhern likes to throw his money around and has been trying to get his son to come home and take over the ranching business.
Leigh is all for this. She knows a child will cost money they don’t have and life on the ranch would solve their economic problems. But before Johnson caves in, quits his job and gives up his life here in Maine, he is going to try for a promotion since a spot on the faculty that pays $800 more a year has just opened up.
This leads us into several subplots. There’s another professor (Hayden Rorke) and his wife (June Whitley) who are angling for the job, because they’d also like more money. At the same time, we see the dean (Gene Lockhart) manipulate them, playing both candidates against each other, as it means he and his wife (Kathleen Lockhart) will get invited over for dinner and that might include a juicy pot roast or steak.
Of course Calhern is not going to sit by idly. He goes to visit the local butcher (Walter Slezak) to strike up a deal. The butcher will offer Leigh decent cuts of meat at half price, with Calhern covering the difference. This leads to other wives finding out how much Leigh is paying, which causes a rush on meat at Slezak’s delicatessen. It in turn triggers a price war since other butchers in town must compete with his cheaper prices.
The scenes where teachers and their wives are lining up to get cheap meat are actually quite funny. Who would have thought that a humorous story about the cost of meat would be such a delightful farce. It helps that we have some excellent character actors bolstering the material with their performances– Calhern, Slezak and Lockhart are all ace. Lockhart steals the film in a very well-played scene, where he implores Johnson to swallow some pride and make up with dear old dad.
In the end, Johnson and Leigh are able to stay in Maine. Johnson does not get the new job because it was given to the other professor…but he does get an increase in wages, which will result in an extra $1000 annually. Meanwhile, Calhern hops the train back to Texas. The coda has Johnson and Leigh visiting Texas after the birth of their son for a summer vacation. The little boy’s middle initial is T which stands for T-bone.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Feb 22, 2024 12:43:15 GMT
This neglected film is from 1957.
Crosby deals with divorce and parenting
Despite the occasional shortcomings, I rather like this film. I do suspect, however, that contemporary audiences may not have enjoyed it so much. Mainly because it presents Bing Crosby in a way that he typically was not shown. Most of the time Crosby was presented in lighter musical comedy fare. That is how people liked watching him on screen.
This production was part of a two-picture deal the star had with MGM. After more than twenty years at Paramount, he was now freelancing. A year earlier the Lion had cast him in its remake of THE PHILADELPHIA STORY— HIGH SOCIETY, alongside Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly. It was to be Miss Kelly’s last motion picture; she had previously costarred with Crosby in Paramount’s THE COUNTRY GIRL. A picture like HIGH SOCIETY was everything Crosby’s fans expected from him. It had music, comedy and an engaging romantic story.
MAN ON FIRE does not have any of those things. Probably Crosby was interested in the script because like THE COUNTRY GIRL where he played a drunk and won an Oscar, he was able to once again tackle a serious social issue. This time it would be the emotional quagmire of divorce, and how the separation of loving parents can psychologically harm a child. As the story begins, we see that Crosby’s character is at odds with his ex-wife (played by Mary Fickett).
Fickett’s character has remarried, and she would like to regain partial custody of their son (Malcolm Broderick). She had given up the boy during the divorce, but claims she signed away her rights under emotional stress. With help from her lawyer, the case is reopened. A hearing occurs. This time the judge reverses the earlier order, and grants Fickett full custody. The boy will now have to leave his father’s home and go off to where his mother and her new husband live. It’s a shocking development.
I didn’t quite agree with this plot point, since I don’t think Crosby was a negligent father and he would not have lost custody. His main sin was that he’s a workaholic, but he still managed to provide well enough for the kid. Plus it was obvious he loved his son.
However, because Crosby is now without his son, he spirals into a deep depression. He neglects his business and starts drinking. A woman he knows (Inger Stevens) is in love with Crosby, but his self-pitying act makes a proper relationship nearly impossible.
Meanwhile, the boy has run away from his mother and wants to be reunited with Crosby. This prompts Crosby to devise a plan to whisk his son off to Europe, which would be kidnapping. As a domestic melodrama, the story pulls out all the stops.
Crosby does give a fine performance here, but again, this is not the type of role his fans enjoyed. Audiences did not want social realism from the star, they wanted fluffy entertainment. MAN ON FIRE lost money at the box office. Crosby never worked at MGM again, and he went on to make a few comedies at Fox, which revived his career.
But as I said above, I do like this film. I think it’s an earnest attempt to examine the long-range repercussions of divorce, not only on a child, but also on the estranged parents. The courts become involved, and you do wonder if the best possible course of action is being undertaken. As a think piece about the sanctity and value of the nuclear home, it’s worth viewing.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Feb 28, 2024 15:46:12 GMT
This film is from 1950.
Forensic evidence
This MGM crime drama begins in Boston at a boarding house for young women owned by a nosey landlady (Elsa Lanchester). One of her tenants (Jan Sterling) is several weeks behind with the rent. But Sterling is expecting to get some money from a rich boyfriend.
She’s using the phone downstairs to call the guy and scribbles his number on the wall. He lives out in Hyannis, and she tells him to meet her later at a trendy club where she works. There’s desperation in her voice which suggests she’s in trouble, and more than just late rent payments are on her mind.
Later her boyfriend (Edmon Ryan) has failed to show up. This is because he’s married and couldn’t get away from home. So she befriends another married guy (Marshall Thompson) who’s had too much to drink. Thompson’s wife (Sally Forrest) is in the hospital and just lost a baby. Thompson has a nice car and Sterling wants to use it to drive up the cape to see her boyfriend. Against his better judgment Thompson agrees to go on a midnight joy ride with her.
They stop at a diner where she calls the boyfriend to tell him she’s coming to his place. There’s no way he’ll let her come to the house to meet his wife, so he agrees to drive somewhere to meet her. Meanwhile Thompson is sobering up and realizes he is now miles outside Boston. He wants to get back to the hospital, but Sterling strands him along the road.
Sterling proceeds to meet her boyfriend at a nearby lake, where things don’t go so well. She threatens to expose the guy, and he shoots her with an automatic pistol. After she’s been killed, he undresses her then puts her back into the car and pushes it into the lake. We know Thompson will get blamed for this, or else there’d be no movie.
Cinematographer John Alton lensed several classic films noir, and he provides arresting visuals. The scenes along the beach, where the woman’s skeletal remains are discovered a few months later, are hauntingly depicted on screen with lighting and photography that denote Alton’s signature style. I wouldn’t be surprised if these images inspired Shelley Winters’ drowning scenes in THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER five years later.
MYSTERY STREET, a symbolic title, is more of a why-dunit than a who-dunit. Harvard’s Department of Legal Medicine figures into the investigation carried out by a Portuguese police lieutenant (Ricardo Montalban). During the investigation scenes, we see how a university professor (Bruce Bennett) aids him with forensic science to go over evidence obtained from the lake. For instance, blond hair has been retrieved from the body, as well as foliage that would grow only during a certain time of year. The skeleton’s bones indicate the victim was a female between the age of 20 to 24.
Ricardo Montalban plays the lieutenant very earnestly. He conveys a policeman who is not only inquisitive but sincere. There’s an interesting part where he and the professor take photos of missing women, blow them up and superimpose them over shots of the skull to see if they match. They do eventually make a positive ID.
What I love about this section of the movie is how educational, thoughtful and entertaining it is. It has a semi-documentary feel but does not hit us over the head with its scientific approach. It’s very smoothly presented, and most of the credit must go to Montalban and Bennett for the way they perform the material so naturally and realistically. In order to ensure things don’t get too academic, the story shifts gears after this and we see Montalban go to the boarding house to interview the landlady.
Elsa Lanchester’s performance in MYSTERY STREET seems to be guided by her husband Charles Laughton, instead of the film’s actual director (John Sturges). This is primarily because of the Laughton-esque mannerisms she uses in her scenes. Things like additional chuckles and sideways glances, which Laughton typically employs in his characterizations. Lanchester etches a portrait of a very embittered but humorous landlady. We can tell her character is jealous of the pretty young girls who stay with her, but they provide her with a steady income. Also, we realize she is a lot smarter than she appears.
During a visit to the boarding house, Montalban looks for clues about who might have killed Sterling. He meets a shy tenant (Betsy Blair) who knew Sterling; she shows him a suitcase of items that were left behind. Montalban looks at the contents and makes a few mental notes. After he leaves, Lanchester discovers the number that had been scribbled on the wall. She jots it down for her own reference.
Figuring the number might lead to a little windfall if someone wants to avoid being associated with a dead nightclub hostess, she dials the number and sets up a meeting.
Soon Lanchester has gone to see Sterling’s boyfriend in Hyannis. She meets him at his office along a pier, and when he steps out for a moment, she starts to snoop around for things that will connect him to the killing.
It doesn’t take long for her to find a gun in a desk drawer, which she takes. It is, of course, the murder weapon. Later when Montalban shows up with a search warrant and does not find the weapon, the boyfriend realizes who has it, and he goes after it. The scene where he pays the landlady a visit and commits another murder is quite shocking.
In the meantime Thompson has been arrested and is about to stand trial for a crime he didn’t commit. His loyal wife tries to support him, though it is not easy for her. In one scene she practically has a nervous breakdown when she realizes the lies her husband has told her and how their whole marriage has been turned upside down because of one horrible night. However, Montalban is now convinced of Thompson’s innocence and with help from the professor, he will prove that the boyfriend is the real killer.
The forensic evidence in the case reveals why the boyfriend had killed Sterling. It seems she had been pregnant, and bones from the fetus were found along with her skeletal remains. For a film that was made at the height of the production code by a studio known for frothy musicals, MYSTERY STREET is sordid and hard-hitting. It’s a daring story for its time. It assumes responsibility for its adult themes and is determined to provide audiences with thoughtful and meaningful entertainment.
|
|
|
Post by topbilled on Mar 9, 2024 15:10:06 GMT
This neglected film is from 1932.
In need of economic prosperity
America was in the throes of a great Depression when MGM decided to green-light this farcical comedy. It would star the studio’s unlikely box office champ, Marie Dressler, with her frequent female foil Polly Moran. (Miss Dressler’s male foil was usually Wallace Beery, who does not appear in this story.) Dressler’s antics and sparring with Moran made them popular frenemies before the word was even invented. In fact their friendship slash rivalry was arguably the blueprint for the funniest fights between Lucy and Ethel, and Laverne and Shirley decades later.
In this ninth and final collaboration for the two character actresses, they are placed into a story about interconnected families on the brink of disaster. Various personal calamities befall the two matriarchs of neighboring families when their children (Norman Foster & Anita Page) decide to marry. Suddenly everything is thrown into a state of chaos, because these well-meaning but intensely stubborn mothers-in-law-to-be have vastly different ideas about the type of wedding ceremony that should be performed. Specifically, they disagree on which pastor they’ll use.
Meanwhile, the community is thrown into huge turmoil when the bank that Dressler runs is in jeopardy of closing. Moran is the largest depositor. When she decides to pull out her funds, there is a run on the bank, with other citizens losing faith and withdrawing their money as well. Dressler and her son (Foster) face economic ruin, and the wedding will almost certainly be called off.
No longer able to hold her head up in public, Dressler experiences her own emotional depression. Though this is for all intents and purposes a comedy, the situation at the bank gives Dressler’s character a chance to enact several dramatic moments. Dressler, a previous Oscar recipient, is particularly adept at combining humor and pathos, sometimes both elements within the same scene, on the turn of a dime.
The contract players cast as the grown-up children planning their nuptials are not as nuanced in their scenes but still highly effective, as is Moran who nearly steals a few big moments out from under Dressler. Of course we know the crisis will have to be averted…that Dressler’s character will have to bounce back and so will the bank, in order to ensure the wedding does take place and there’s a positive upbeat ending.
Incidentally, there were many production issues behind the scenes that made filming a less-than-positive experience for the cast. MGM bosses were displeased with the results of the original director (Leo McCarey) and replaced him with Sam Wood when the picture was nearly done.
Instead of doing extensive retakes, they just reshot the whole film in about a month’s time with Wood. Then everything was rushed through the editing process, so that the picture would still be able to arrive in theaters on time. The quick “remake” (reshoot) was apparently the right way to proceed; there was improved continuity over McCarey’s version and PROSPERITY did well at the box office.
|
|