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Bonanza: Any Friend of Walter's (1963)
Comedic Episode Falls Flat
Bonanza had more than its share of comedic themed episodes with the writers often willing to put the characters (notably Hoss) in embarrassing scenarios. On paper this script probably looked hilarious with an aged prospector (played by Arthur Hunnicutt) holed up with Hoss and a dog named Walter. The latter is a non-descript hound that barely moves or even opens his eyes but to whom Hunnicutt ascribes accountability for creating great escape plans and ideas for the protection of his little shack.
It is intended to be hilarious as Hunnicutt describes some major achievement of Walter's and the camera cuts to the immobile animal. Unfortunately this gag is played out time and again to the point of tedium.
What does work is the storyline of the inept thieves seeking to ransack Hunnicutt's hut for a stash of gold. As their failures mount up and they acquire more and more injuries they become figures of both humour and despair. The final scenes acquire a degree of poignancy as we witness the true assignment of guilt are genuinely amusing.
Hunnicutt and Dan Blocker have an engaging presence but the episode does not quite work as well as some of the more serious installments. I understand there is a sequel to this episode which I have not seen at the time of writing.
Devil's Island (1938)
Surprising Pace and Tension
Devil's Island (1939) proved to be something of a surprise - a compelling, fast moving account of a doctor (Boris Karloff) being sentenced to the notorious French penal colony - enduring hardship, escape attempts and a chance at a redemptive act.
Boris Karloff was always an evocatively spoken actor and here his melliferous voice is used to tremendous effect as he appeals his innocence to the court, as he conspires for escape and as he convincingly plays a surgeon. His near cadaverous frame is also used to good effect when he is stripped to the waist, showing him to be believably a half-starved prisoner.
The film uses some leftover sets, props and costumes from The Life of Emile Zola made a few years earlier to give added production value. Like a lot of Warner Brothers films of the period the pace is astonishing with very brief scenes, swift cuts and uses of montage to convey swathes of story in a few minutes. The opening five minutes alone features narrative text about the history of Devil's Island, an anarchists attack gone wrong, failed surgery, an arrest and trial all conveyed with minimal exposition and padding.
The film is pretty much defined however by Karloff's performance with most of the other actors coming across a little bland. However, this being the grand era of character actors with great worn faces many look precisely right as prisoners, guards and court officials.
Tension is built effectively over the relatively short running time and the end result is a pleasing tale of imprisonment and survival.
The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby (1947)
Well Cast but Lacking Excitement
This is perhaps the forgotten Dickens adaption of its time, somewhat overshadowed by moody productions of Great Expectations (1945) and Oliver Twist (1948). Aside from a leisurely pace however this is a worthy adaption, capturing most of the key plot points and characters from the original narrative.
Dicken's rich characters were always welcome playthings for character actors who embraced the rich dialogue and eccentricities they were defined by. Here Cedric Hardwicke finds just the right spot as a zealous and greedy uncle whose actions affect the lives of all those around him. Bernard Miles takes a special joy in being his not-too-loyal servant and Stanley Holloway is delightful as an Actor-Manager with an ill-disciplined troupe. Derek Bond has the title role and is adequate but unexceptional and does not really convey the path of the character from naïve young man to a man of substance.
The web of the plot allows for characters to circle in an out of each other's presence to great effect and the outcome of the story is very satisfying for all the characters we have followed.
The production however is only borderline adequate, lacking much imagination in the direction or particular distinction in its settings which are mostly quite poor. The film is mostly satisfying even if it fails to come alive when needed in its more dramatic moments.
I Live in Grosvenor Square (1945)
Near Forgotten but Sentimental and Powerful in its Final Act
This seems to be something of a forgotten film despite being a major moneymaker of its year and starring Anna Neagle, a massively famous British star who never managed to conquer the American market.
Evidently written as a means of encouraging co-operation and mutual understanding between British citizens and the American troops stationed in their homes during the massive build up to D-Day, the first half of the film as a result suffers badly from some forced comedy around linguistic and geographical differences. The actors all look a little uncomfortable in these sequences. The first half of the film is largely devoted to this strained humour and the building of a romance between an English woman (Neagle) and an American flyer (Dean Jagger.) Much time is also given over to Rex Harrison's character who is engaged to Neagle and campaigning for election as the local MP for a rural constituency, the latter overseen by his father (Robert Morley) - a kindly but very tradition-bound individual.
I was finding all of this to be a little labored until the final third of the film which suddenly changes gears to become a minor masterpiece of sentiment and emotion. At that point I realised the writers have deliberately spent a lot of time setting up the characters and their interactions so that when the key moments occur they are underpinned by real knowledge of who these people are.
Several scenes in this final act are played to emotional perfection;
a) Nancy Price as a harridan of a housekeeper revealed to have a deeply caring relationship with the American pilots in her care, so much so that she wants to leave her savings to one who she regards as a son.
b) Robert Morley almost casually placing a watch on a man's wrist and mentioning that it belonged to his son who died in the First World War.
c) Rex Harrison giving up his chance at marriage to stage a simple meeting between the two people he knows to be in love.
d) Anna Neagle writing down a list of names of deceased air crew she is receiving over the phone as part of her military duties, pausing only slightly at the identity of one of them who is known to her.
As a very talky piece the need for good performances is essential. Neagle carries with her a great weight of emotion constantly visible in her eyes, Morley (four years younger than Neagle) plays her father with great sincerity and emotion and Rex Harrison shows both class and dignity in his role.
Production values are adequate but there is a reliance in one important scene on very scratched stock footage.
Overall, this is a sentimental piece that will grab at your heart in ways least expected.
Dangerous Partners (1945)
A Genuine Surprise
A real surprise that showed the advantages of coming across a film completely cold with no knowledge of its plot or reputation. A random discovery on You Tube on a wet afternoon that proved exhilaratingly different.
Starting in the immediate aftermath of a horrendous plane crash a surviving couple consisting of a greedy, soulless wife (Signe Hasso) and her frightened husband (John Warburton) seek to rob an unconscious man and discover details of seemingly disparate people with legal wills promising large sums of money to a man with the wonderful name of Albert Richard Kingby (played by Edmund Gwenn.)
A series of attempts are made to illicitly obtain the money, one resulting in the death of Warburton's character. Hasso continues dispassionately on with her aims, now in the company of a very corrupt lawyer played by James Craig. Their criminal enterprise continues with little concern for anyone else until dramatic revelations give them pause to think about the true nature of criminality.
An unusual production for MGM of the period this crime thriller lacks the usual polish that the biggest of studios could provide and appears little rough edged at times, perhaps an illustration of the directorial input of Edward L Cahn who spent a career knocking out B films in under a week (some, like It! The Terror From Beyond Space are genuinely extraordinary.) The normally artsy photography of Karl Freund is here mostly point and shoot though the plane crash aftermath is wonderfully handled.
What it also benefits from is very good performances. Signe Hasso uses her strong accent as an effective shield and presents a special patina of evil contrasted with the Edmund Gwenn, generally the player of affable, ingenous characters here is effective as the quintessence of wickedness. The sequence where a character is tortured for information is played quite convincingly and there is a real dark edge to proceedings.
My summary is that this is a solid outing with enough plot surprises and deviations to make it interesting throughout. All credit as well for the careful script and the very strong performances. Notable supporting players such as King Baggot (star of the early silent goes uncredited) whilst Grant Withers and Stephen McNally are sterling additions.
Cry of the Werewolf (1944)
Effective Second Feature with Surprising Performances and Direction
Columbia Pictures did not really embrace the horror genre in the 1940s in the way that Universal, and to a lesser extent, RKO did. They did produce Return of the Vampire (1943) which proved a good showcase for Bela Lugosi in one of his few on-screen vampire roles and a had a couple of eerie scenes as well as a very talkative tormented werewolf.
Cry of the Werewolf is one of the very few other explorations in horror the studio attempted and it notably avoids the tormented werewolf trope of Lon Chaney and instead encases the lycanthrope lineage in the women of an extended family of gypsies. This provides for some interesting if historically dubious extrapolation of the history and plight of gypsy people in the United States. Though presented as very much the villains from the earliest scenes the gypsy community is well delineated with much discussion of their burial practices and annual ceremonies (how much of this is historically accurate I cannot attest.)
The werewolf itself is a large dog, not even a wolf, with rubber band around its snout to make it snarl and bare its teeth constantly. It is shot well as its shadow it cast through the corridors of the underground vault of a funeral parlour, the film's most effective scene, echoing stalking sequences from the Val Lewton Cat-People (1942).
As with many studio films of the period only the core cast is listed, in this instance five people, though there are many other supporting players in speaking parts who go uncredited. Of particular note is John Abbott as the museum guide. He has one of those wonderful voices that is intimate but full of clarity and he must have been an exceptional speaker of verse. The fate of his character is disturbing, unexpected and very well played. His equal is Fritz Leiber who has an almost spiritual air, a cadence that could almost be of another world. He is superb in small roles in Phantom of the Opera (1943) as Franz Liszt and Angel on My Shoulder (1946) as the dead chemist who poisoned his young and unfaithful wife. Here he gets to provide extended exposition but does so in an unforced, natural manner. Good performances are also in evidence from Osa Masson and Nina Foch.
In the end this is very much a second feature of the period but directed with some skill and attention to small details of performance and production. For that reason it manages to endure far better than many of its peers.
Hawkeye and the Last of the Mohicans: The Ethan Allen Story (1957)
A Simple Tale
Hawkeye was an example of the earlier style of western, avoiding complexity in order to tell a simple tale of opposing groups dealing with illicit tax collection and use of the funds.
This framework presents some context for a good battle scene that shows off the complexities of fighting with single shot muskets. The time taken to load, shoot and re-load the weapons dictates the nature of the fight scene and how mean could quickly progress across territory if they knew their enemies had used up their single shots and settle the battle with cold steel rather than musket balls.
John Hart is a one-note lead but not without charm and Lon Chaney Jnr, not exactly a First Nations American, demonstrates considerable warmth as the Last Mohican and his strong friendship is worth comparison with that of the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
A well made episode and a diverting 25 minutes.
The War with Grandpa (2020)
Fun with a Touch of Realism
My expectations were not high for this one - a film shot three years ago that failed to get any kind of release, featuring some high profile names (Robert De Niro, Uma Thurman, Christopher Walken) and based on a huge-selling children's book.
I was surprised to find myself smiling throughout, amused both by the pace of the film and its efforts to ensure that every scene had at least one solid laugh. Pitched towards a family audience My War with Grandpa is centred around an average family who invite an older relative to live with them. Due to knee difficulties he cannot easily manage stairs so his grandson is required to give up his bedroom in order for the grandfather to have somewhere to sleep. Banished to an attic bedroom the grandson declares formal war on his senior relative and an amusing battle of wits and practical gags follows.
The cast are very game and embrace the silliness of the ever-escalating war and the story has enough of a touch of realism in its family dynamics to make it very relatable. De Niro is clearly willing to try anything despite his advancing years and he is given good support from contemporaries including a frail looking Walken, an enthusiastic Cheech Marin and the forever upbeat Jane Seymour. Uma Thurman has an amusing subplot as the unknowing middle generation between grandfather and grandchild and faces being the victim of circumstance in increasingly amusing encounters with a local police officer.
Production values are generally high with some ambitious stuntwork and colourful settings. I was surprised thought that the credits for a simple comedy ran more than ten minutes, even with the inclusion of a few outtakes and behind the scenes footage the slow paced credits seem unnecessary.
Overall this was hugely enjoyable and a film I think I will actively revisit until the time when I hopefully become the grumpy grandfather embedded unwanted in his descendant's household.
Money Plane (2020)
Ambitious Action Film and Dark Comedy
Ambition is important in film making and it is always reassuring to see film-makers pushing as hard as they can against their budgets to produce something creative and dynamic. Unfortunately those behind Money Plane found themselves somewhat defeated by lack of funds.
Their name actors including Kelsey Grammar, Denise Richards and Thomas Jane all look like they did a single day's filming at individual locations. Like a number of Bruce Willis' recent films the leads have their scenes spread across the movie but over relatively few scenes and single locations to make their involvement appear more extensive than it actually was. I would be very surprised if Denise Richards shot her role in more than a few hours.
An art gallery exterior is clearly some kind of poorly maintained transport depot and its interior (and several others in the film) are standard rooms dressed up with a few drapes to obscure unwanted details. Much of the plot takes place inside a plane interior set which looks like one of those frequently rented interiors seen in many Hollywood lensed films and TV series of recent decades.
That said the plot mechanics are reasonably well executed and there are some effective action sequences involving close-up fights in confined areas that bring to mind the editing style and effectiveness of the train compartment fight in From Russia With Love (1963).
A strain of very dark humour also runs through the film, with the outcome of a Russian roulette game, a graphic description of one of the things the gamblers can bet on and a misunderstanding between villain and henchman as to intent being especially smile-inducing.
Much of the acting is adequate if not exceptional and Kelsey Grammar in particular devolves into a shouting, self-declamatory approach when it is not really needed. Katrina Norman is especially good as one of the crew assembled to take down the Money Plane and is an actor I will look out for in the future.
With a brisk running time of 82 minutes this mostly overcomes its budget limitations to be a fun and darkly comic action adventure. As an ambitious B-grade film I found it mostly very satisfying.
Amish Grace (2010)
The Nature of Forgiveness
Murder is one of the hardest crimes to forgive and, in particular, anyone who has lot a child to murder, would be understood if they could not readily forgive those responsible. The courts of many jurisdictions allow survivors to speak at sentencing hearings to communicate something of the nature of their loss and grief - the impact of the crime. Understandably such statements are regularly defined by both a high level of grief and a wish for some form of judicial revenge.
It is therefore difficult for many to understand the need of some to find a level of forgiveness towards those who commit significant wrongdoing. In 2006 a group of Amish people found in their faith and belief an ability to forgive the murderer of five children of their community and the wounding of several others. Amish Grace seeks to explain how such forgiveness could occur, even to the point of three elders visiting the widow of the killer on the very day of the heinous act.
That approach, of trying to find understanding in a terrible tragedy, of reaching out even when you are screaming with pain, is the subject of Amish Grace.
The script is perhaps a little prosaic and the story told without flourish but this is a message picture with a difficult message to absorb. That it for the most part succeeds in communicating a concept so foreign to many is to its absolute credit.
Not a film to be watched for high production values or stellar acting but it manages to convey its messages well.
The Goldwyn Follies (1938)
Not a Folly
There is a sense of both hesitancy and confidence in this strange work from Samuel Goldwyn.
The former comes through in the need to try and sell the idea of culture in the form of opera and ballet to his audience by having it seen and endorsed through the eyes of Miss Humanity, an honest rural woman hired by studio head Adolphe Menjou to give an average person's perspective on how movies should unfold. This not-so-subtle tool provides something of a gateway for the film to introduce class acts that might have been seen as inaccessible to rural audiences.
The confidence lies in the willingness of Goldwyn to throw everything into this production from comedians to a ventriliquist, from ballet to opera and moments of comedy and romance. Many of the early musicals are a mix of skits of one kind or another, from The Broadway Melody (1929) to The Great Ziegfeld (1936). That the very thin narrative adequately supports this approach is to be admired even if individual acts succeed or fail on their own merits.
The comedy acts are probably the best elements eight decades later. Edgar Bergen and his dummy, Charlie McCarthy, are examples of the precision of comic timing. Bergen may let his lips move more than any other practitioner of his art but his success as a performer, and on radio, lay in the rapid fire jokes he enunciated for himself and his co-performer.
The three Ritz Brothers are a force of nature - and they come on perhaps a little strongly today but it is easy to see they must have been electric on stage. Their song, 'Pussy, Pussy, Pussy' is sung without irony and is also a model for selling comedy.
Vera Zorina was brought into the picture primarily as a ballerina and, yes, her controlled movement is impressive but she conveys more as a comedienne, playing a self-obsessed European actress with just a hint of Greta Garbo. Her moments of rejection, fury and ego are all well delineated.
For a film made during the latter months of 1937 and released in February of 1938 this must have been a fairly early three-strip technicolor release. It lacks the bright, popping colours of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) or Gone With the Wind the following year and the subdued pallet is effective in conveying the images without overwhelming the drama. The film within a film is clearly seen being shot with 35mm black and white cameras - clearly they only had one of the massive technicolor cameras of the time at their disposal and not a second one that could be brought into service as an on-camera prop.
The dramatic and opera sequences add little and the romantic plot in particular is very conventional with a needless lack of disclosure stopping the relationship from proceeding and another character acting out of character for a moment to provide some fake frisson.
This is a generally satisfactory work even if the parts rather than the sum of them is more alluring at this distance from its original release.
The Spirit of Notre Dame (1931)
A Fascinating Production of its Period
I saw this Universal film (from the same year as Frankenstein) on a very degraded print on You Tube.
The film works well though at capturing a moment in history, showing the American Football talents of Notre Dame at a point in time immediately after the death of their well-regarded coach, Knute Rockne. Indeed Rockne was on his way to Hollywood to be an advisor on this film when the plane he was in crashed, ending a legendary career. He is portrayed in this film simply as the un-named character of 'Coach' played by an actor who has a close resemblance to the Rockne of later years.
Unusually the film adopts a very distinct two-act structure - the first covering the arrival of neophyte player Lew Ayres at university and his gradual acceptance by his peers due to his grit and determination on the field. His fellow players include the likes of Andy Devine in one of his earlier roles, fairly convincing as both a player and hillbilly style comic relief. The second act shows the players at the end of their college careers, slowly being overwhelmed by the upstart newcomers they themselves once were.
There are the usual stories of sporting films; competitive romantic relationships, the sick player everyone gives their all for on the field in the hope of recovery, the close finish between two well-matched teams. These cliches were perhaps not as old when this film was made but we still feel the ennui of sitting through them.
Production values are very high with lots of football sequences clearly shot at Notre Dame and some very ambitious shots. In one scene the camera, positioned behind goal, does a dramatic leap upwards in a rapid crane shot and then zooms forward in and over the goal to capture a key moment of action. It is a hugely effective sequence, especially for the early days of sound when cameras were housed in substantial blimps to keep unwanted camera mechanical noises at bay.
Lew Ayres, coming off All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) effectively shows a range of emotions from the over-confident country boy trained by his own brother to the seasoned professional who sees himself losing his chances to a younger player. Ayres would eventually have an acting career spanning more than 65 years and was always an effective player.
This could have been very weak indeed given the age of the production but proves very effective at nearly every level.
Robert Montgomery Presents: The Ringmaster (1952)
Well Acted Live Television Drama of the Early 1950s
Live television drama is now something that is virtually lost to us, by virtue of radical changes in production techniques and also that relatively little of the live television era survives.
What we do have therefore seems a little more special, an amalgam between live radio and theatre shot with multiple cameras to catch all the action and if something went wrong (a forgotten line, cameras drifting into shot) the mistake was there for every viewer to see. Good television of this type therefore required a lot of rehearsal, planning and hopefully good luck.
The Ringmaster is a fine example of a drama where things went mostly right. The solid cast including Vincent Price, Anna Lee and Robert Coote all know their lines and provide convincing performances throughout. Vincent in particular conveys a great deal through facial expression; moments of torment as he believes he is being cheated upon, glee as his plans fall into place and fear when things go awry. Combining extended speeches with wrangling an ancient wheelchair shows his commitment and intelligence in the part.
The actual story is one of those old stage pieces well suited to live television - a small group of characters in a limited setting (in this case a hotel) circling each other, planning away and having personal revelations about their lives and actions revealed at key points. It is dusty stuff to a degree but very well played by all and there are no production impediments on display as the cameras track smoothly across the sets.
The Restless Gun: Hornitas Town (1958)
Economy of Storytelling
Telling a convincing tale in twenty five minutes involves an economy of world building - setting up a location, characters, building a conflict and establishing a resolution.
This episode does that well, showing a town under the thrall of a protection racket run by its own sheriff (a loose but effective performance from John Larch), and John Payne's lead being hamstrung in what he can do by the religious woman he admires who prohibits the use of guns to solve problems.
Complicating matters is an unethical gambler played by the incredible Jack Elam. As an actor Elam had one of the ugliest beautiful faces out there, one of those mugs that just looked wrong from any angle, like something erupting from a Picasso cubist nightmare. Disturbing yet quite magical. He brings his particular physiognomy to a two-faced character that drips with menace.
In resolving matters without guns Payne has to set one villain against another and hope he survives the crossfire.
An entertaining and effective half hour.
Tombstone Territory: Reward for a Gunslinger (1957)
Both Realistic and Surprising
This is only the second episode of Tombstone Territory I have seen - a western series that seems near forgotten when considered alongside its contemporaries such as Gunsmoke.
I was struck most by its realism - this is a gritty tale that sees horse riders struggling their way through long wild grass and not the stony desert plains often seen in westerns.
The main guest character, Frank Masters, played by Ken Drake, is a dying man and he genuinely looks like someone at the very edge of life. His deeply lined face is narrow, emaciated, sweating constantly as he convulses with consumption. There is an aside moment, not a big speech, just a statement where he admits his terror of death and begs the Sherriff escorting him to not let him die. It is little touches like this and the stark monochrome photography that almost make the episode feel like found footage from the 1800s - long before film even existed.
The brief twenty five minute story sets up a scenario where a stagecoach robber is sought out due to the large reward for his capture on offer. The final outcome of the search and what happens to the reward provides an effective surprise ending.
Thriller: Papa Benjamin (1961)
A Less Engaging Thriller Episode
There seems to have been an awareness that this was not going to be a landmark episode of Thriller, even at the time of production. An on-set report from the time has the crew describing the script in unflattering terms and the difficulties of getting a good final product with only five shooting days available. Getting a solid ten minutes of footage a day is pretty ambitious on any single-camera filmed production but was pretty much the norm for this period. The episode was also shot early in the production schedule before being shunted to very late in the season. All of this speaks to a lack of confidence in the final product.
I thought this episode suffered a little from pacing problems, concentrating on the musical performances and composition sequences at the expense of the horror voodoo segments which might have given the episode some added frisson. As a viewer witnessing the brief voodoo ceremony left me hungry for more and John Ireland's confrontation with the title character, "Goodbye, dead man," is suitably chilling.
The adaption of the Cornell Woolrich story lacks for tension though and Ireland's suffering is never as intense as it needs to be for a horror story.
Ireland himself is fine if a little inexpressive as the main character, a band leader with a problem, but there is so much more that this episode could have been.
An unofficial remake exists in the form of a segment of the anthology film Dr. Terror's House of Horrors from 1964.
One of the less engaging Thriller episodes.
The Old Guard (2020)
Life Without Consequence
THE OLD GUARD (2020)
One of the more evocative film titles of recent years leads into a serious exploration of the curse and glory of immortality within the frame of a near-generic action film.
Life without consequence seems to be part of the message here for characters enduring immortality. They live in a state of ennui barely able to perceive events beyond the circle of their day to day actions but continuing on and on because, what else is there?
There are really only two central characters. The first, Andy, is played by Charlize Theron who approaches the role with a very tight, restrained performance, letting very little in emotionally and revealing very little. It might be seen as a passive performance but she gets away with a lot with her eyes.
The second main character is Nile, played by Kiki Lane. Lane is new to me and faces a more difficult task than Theron as all her emotion needs to be on the surface. This is a character facing unimaginable stress in trying to both understand and live the impossible, lashing out in different ways and needing to use voice and body to communicate uncertainty. Lane manages to convey all that is needed effectively and this is a superior acting effort.
The film does feature one significant horror scene where a character spends hundreds of years at the bottom of the ocean in a kind of iron maiden, drowning, coming to life, drowning again and suffering beyond measure. It haunted me as I watched it. It haunts me now.
The action scenes are fine if a little low key - basic gun battles and close up throwing moves that would not look out of place in one of Steven Seagals's direct to DVD efforts. The music score is appalling, fighting against the intent of scenes rather than supporting them and all of the music choices feel wrong.
I came to this one fairly cold and would have been unlikely to see it if it had a cinema release. I think this film is a good example of why cinema as a big screen concept really needs to die.
The Devil (1921)
The Devil Indeed
It may be difficult to countenance now but there was a time when George Arliss was close to being the biggest film star in the world. This slightly stooped, perhaps not conventionally handsome, mature gentleman had spent years on the stage to tremendous acclaim and achieved the same in the early sound era of film. His great skill was a tremendous personal charisma that defied his actual appearance. When he is on screen there is little else that the viewer remembers - his precise diction and sheer presence dominate.
The Devil (1921) was Arliss' first film and though denied his superb voice, that presence so evident in his sound films of a decade later is ever present. As Dr. Mueller he puts a loving couple to a test of fidelity, slowly drawing them through deception and innuendo into compromising circumstances. It is this sly approach that gives Arliss the opportunity to show, through expression and mouthed dialogue his skills as a seducer.
I had assumed the title of the film was a metaphorical one, highlighting the devilish nature of the Arliss character, but in a final reckoning he is revealed to indeed be more than a lecherous fiend but at the very least a servant of the Dark One. The heroine is protected from his advance by a glowing cross and he is eventually seen to be defeated by the powers of light. The very essence of deux ex machina in a story that at least follows a logical path.
Casablanca Express (1989)
Name Recognition Casting but Perfunctory Plotting
Star power is perhaps less important in movies today than it was in decades past. Films are more often sold on a concept rather than a name and it is far less common for a star to have the ability to 'open' a film on their name power alone. The casting for Casablanca Express, a World War II set tale shot in Morocco and Italy demonstrates two types of name casting of the period.
The first is the use of actors who had substantial careers but were perhaps past the point of being headliners themselves anymore. Glenn Ford at the age of 73 and Donald Pleasance at 70 are given substantial supporting roles that rely on their presence and the ability for their names to be used in print and related advertising. Ford had given very few acting performances in the previous decade, whilst Pleasance had been hugely busy in a large range of low budget features. The older audience would be familiar with the actors' work and be happy perhaps to see them again in a feature.
The second form of name recognition used is to cast the offspring of known actors, in this case the sons of Sean Connery and Anthony Quinn, relying perhaps on curiosity value from the audience about whether they would be equivalent level stars to their parents. In this case neither has a great deal of charisma but their evident willingness to engage in complex stunt work un-doubled for the most part is impressive. The complex action sequences atop and around trains go a long way to adding to the conviction of the film.
The plot is fairly perfunctory though with a non-cheat twist ending and the remote locations through which the train of the title travels are fairly evocative. Dialogue is at time unintentionally hilarious and extensive post-production dubbing appears to have occurred.
I enjoyed my first viewing of Casablanca Express but did not feel it had sufficient depth or other items of interest that would support a repeat viewing.
The Thirteenth Chair (1929)
Far from a Forgotten Masterpiece
Some films are known more for the trivia associated with them than their actual content - The Thirteenth Chair (1929) being one of them. As the first sound film for director Tod Browning and his first collaboration with the Hungarian emigre actor Bela Lugosi it is these points of interest in a film a few years before Dracula (1931) that draw most attention.
Browning seems very restricted by the early sound recording systems and this very theatrical film plays out mostly on a single set in prolonged wide shots. The opening scene as a mysterious figure enters a building and almost steps on a pool of blood left by a murder victim is handled with some style but is one of the few visual treats in a very static film.
Lugosi is very engaged in his part, talking much faster and with greater passion than his lugubrious Dracula performance, indicating the latter was very much an interpretation of his original stage part. His dramatic confrontation with the suspects is full of passion and a certain intensity.
Of the remaining cast John Davidson as Edward Wales is the sole standout, bringing a creepy intensity and mystery to his role, which is portrayed as one of mystery.
Existing prints of this film are fairly washed out and damaged which reduces the ability of the modern viewer to identify clearly what is going on. A full restoration might be of benefit if quality elements exist but this is far from being the forgotten masterpiece of early sound horror that a viewer might have hoped for.
Jolson Sings Again (1949)
A Sequel Without Direction
Columbia had scored a significant financial and critical success with The Jolson Story in 1946 featuring actor Larry Parks miming successfully to Al Jolson's singing voice, the ageing entertainer re-recording all his great hits for the film.
Then as now thoughts of a sequel were forthcoming but the story of Jolson's career had essentially been told in its entirety.
This can be seen in the struggle the screenwriters had in creating a compelling narrative for the second film.
The key plot points are fairly anaemic, including the end of one marriage, the gestation of another, a temporary retirement for Jolson and his re-discovery entertaining the troops in World War II. The final third of the film, in almost an act of desperation, is given over to the production of The Jolson Story, resulting in Larry Parks playing Jolson opposite Larry Parks playing himself. This includes one sequence where Parks playing Jolson stands on set urging Parks playing Parks who is in fact playing Jolson to successfully mime to the real Jolson's singing. Possibly the word meta was invented to describe just this kind of scenario.
The lack of plot means that the audience is left mostly idling between musical numbers. The actors try hard; Parks in particular is very personable and captures some of the sheer stage presence and energy of the real Jolson. Barbara Hale has a thankless role as Jolson's new wife, mostly sitting admiring the prolonged performance scenes. Ludwig Donath is precise as Jolson's cantor father with concern for his son echoing through every scene even when he is conveying anger.
Despite the presence of Technicolor the production looks a little cheap with a lot of fairly basic sets - the cinema foyer looks like a re-dress of something used in another film and the Alaskan army hut is two walls and a backdrop. Many scenes are conveyed through newspaper and other montages and there is never really much conviction to Jolson's international travels.
The music is the main drawcard here and the real Jolson provides committed and passionate singing throughout. It is a pity that the surrounding fabric of the film could not better support his work
Gods of Egypt (2016)
Strong Visual Experience Unsupported by Script and Cast
Fantasy is very difficult to get right in films. Audience resistance is quite high, especially when it involves characters with difficult-to-remember names or diverse place names. Relating to a fantasy world of beasts and magic is often tricky for audiences who may prefer grounded, realistic drama. There are exceptions though - the worlds of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings captured public imaginations and the complex mass of stories and themes in Game of Thrones also attracted an audience.
This fear of fantasy seems to have informed a slightly tentative approach in the writing and direction of Gods of Egypt. There are plenty of fantastic creatures present ranging from giant, vicious snake like creatures to Minotaurs in all but name, and an array of Egyptian gods. However, there has been avoidance of any of the cod Shakespearean dialogue that often permeates works of this type and an emphasis more upon realistic dialogue. This creates a needless tension between the intensity of the innovative visuals and the prosaic words dropping from the actors, a tension that is never resolved as the linear story progresses forwards but never upwards.
The pleasures with this film arise mostly from the intensity of the visual experience. Every environment has been precisely designed, full of colour and dimension, looking very different from the landscapes seen in past films based on myth and history. The benefit of this is that there is always something to attract the eye, from great sky barges to rainbow lit waterfalls and massive monuments. Like all Alex Proyas' films the visual ideas add weight and substance that the scripting sometimes fails to.
It is however that narrative which brings the film down with a series of very deliberate events extrapolated in excessive detail, burdened by actors who at times look deathly uncomfortable in their roles. Only Geoffrey Rush, in a small but notable part, really excels with so many of the others not able to bring life to the dialogue as they intone in front of ever present green screens.
In the end it is a pity that such a wonderfully conceived world at the visual level could not have been combined with a compelling story and acting.
Mandalay (1934)
Sharply Told Showcase for Good Actors Playing Damaged People
Mandalay proved to be something of a surprise. I had feared a rather dull expedition into romance and associated plot mechanics - but this exceeded the usual tropes by portraying a series of damaged but not irredeemable people all looking for some kind of salvation in part of what is now Myanmar.
Kay Francis plays a character whose journey runs from refugee of the Russian Revolution to mistress of a dubious arms dealer, to high class prostitute, partner to an alcoholic and then to a potential redemption (all within 65 minutes).
Her performance covers off the emotions of all of these roles well, through her expressive eyes conveying hope, despair, confidence and murderous intent as needed. It is a superb jewel of acting on display and the centrepiece of the film.
Good support is provided by Lyle Talbot as an alcoholic doctor, the Swedish Warner Oland as a kind of Chinese gangster / classless brothel manager and Ricardo Cortez as a resourceful but uncaring man.
Michael Curtiz, of Casablanca fame and innumerable other great films, is perhaps slumming a little here, but the camera work is very confident. An early shot follows a motor boat from the port across the bay then sweeps away from the boat to glide smoothly towards a moored yacht and eventually to introduce a character on the railing. It is really superbly done and adds class to the story.
The settings are all convincing and the crew somehow manage to convey a feeling of a south-east Asian port, paddle steamers on jungle infested rivers and a diverse populous without presumably ever having left Los Angeles.
This is a small triumph of 1930s filmmaking.
Batman vs. Two-Face (2017)
A Fitting Tribute to Adam West and the 1960s TV Show
A number of Batman animated films have been released in recent years, featuring different iterations of the character as presented in comics and movies - from the Dark Detective approach to much lighter interpretations. This is the second film to use the characters and tones of the 1960s television series and was fortunate to get Adam West and Burt Ward to recreate their roles. For West this would be his last Batman related performance prior to his death in 2017.
The writers and animators have carefully considered the construction of their animated world with many nods to the TV series, including the presentation of some of the villains from that show (King Tut and the Bookworm among them)as well as the arch, perhaps slightly camp approach of the original. This is built upon somewhat for a modern audience with a number of double entendres and self-aware moments. Dialogue is also reflective of its inspiration with Robin's frequent declarations beginning with the word Holy and Batman's reference to his younger colleague as Old Chum.
West sounds much older and a little frail but is able to be commanding when required and gets the tone of his delivery consistent with his original interpretation. Ward's voice has not aged a day. The perhaps surprising casting of William Shatner as Two Face / Harvey Dent works wonders as, despite being many years older than the character he is playing, he manages to sound appropriate for the role and conveys both the camaraderie of his character with Bruce Wayne and a capacity for evil.
The plot is really little more than a string of set pieces to present these fondly remembered characters but functions well despite this. Animation is of a high standard with diverse backgrounds and detailed character stylings.
Ending with a tribute to the "Brightest Knight" Adam West this is an effective exercise in nostalgia for those who remember the first television incarnation of Batman with warmth and fondness.
Dr. Morelle: The Case of the Missing Heiress (1949)
Engaging Mystery with an Unexpected Conclusion
The entity that later became Hammer Films (the acclaimed House of Horror) started out as Exclusive Films, producing a mix of mysteries and thrillers, some based on popular radio and television productions of the time. The Case of the Missing Heiress is derived from a radio original and features Valentine Dyall as Doctor Morelle.
Dyall had a unique sepulchral voice, deep and full of foreboding. It made him an excellent narrator and voice-over artist. His height also provided a commanding presence and he brings these actor's tools to the fore in this production bringing gravitas and assurance to the film.
The plot is a traditional missing woman mystery but the climax provides more than one plot twist that uses the economy of characters present to advantage. Technical credits are also high with dimly lit, suspenseful scenes though the version I saw came from a very muddy print.
A special note needs to be made about Hugh Griffith's performance as the butler. On paper this is a nonsensical role of a servant who is so deluded that he takes his ten-years dead dog for regular walks. As played by the talented Griffith the character is a figure of great empathy and sympathy.
This was overall a surprising film that managed to overcome its low budget and limited resources.