The Story of Temple Drake

1922

2010-12-11T09:22:00.001-06:00

After a long hiatus, I present the Best of 1922! A solid year with quite a few classics, particularly strong for male performances.

BEST ACTOR: The 1950s

2010-03-16T20:39:00.004-05:00

I finally pulled together my yearly Best Actor lists for the 1950s. I suppose I have a few blind spots (some Mizoguchi and Naruse here and there, plus Bergman's The Magician and maybe a few other foreign films of note), though this feels pretty comprehensive. My likes and dislikes should be pretty obvious!

1950
Humphrey Bogart, In a Lonely Place
William Holden, Sunset Blvd.
John Huston, The Furies
James Stewart, Harvey
Richard Widmark, Night and the City and Panic in the Streets
06 Marlon Brando, The Men
07 Joel McCrea, Stars in My Crown
08 Dana Andrews, Where the Sidewalk Ends
09 Toshirô Mifune, Rashômon
10 Spencer Tracy, Father of the Bride

1951
Marlon Brando, A Streetcar Named Desire
Kirk Douglas, Ace in the Hole
John Garfield, He Ran All the Way
Michael Redgrave, The Browning Version
Oskar Werner, Decision Before Dawn
06 Montgomery Clift, A Place in the Sun
07 Alec Guiness, The Lavender Hill Mob and The Man in the White Suit
08 Dick Powell, The Tall Target
09 Audie Murphy, The Red Badge of Courage
10 Richard Basehart, 14 Hours

1952
Gary Cooper, High Noon
Ralph Meeker, Glory Alley
Serge Reggiani, Casque d'Or
Robert Ryan, On Dangerous Ground
Takashi Shimura, Ikiru
06 James Mason, 5 Fingers
07 Robert Donat, The Magic Box
08 Robert Mitchum, Angel Face and The Lusty Men
09 Gene Kelly, Singin' in the Rain
10 Arthur Kennedy, The Lusty Men

1953
John Payne, 99 River Street
James Stewart, The Naked Spur
Spencer Tracy, The Actress
Charles Vanel, The Wages of Fear
Richard Widmark, Pickup on South Street
06 William Holden, Stalag 17
07 Vittorio De Sica, The Earrings of Madame de...
08 Charles Boyer, The Earrings of Madame De…
09 Ake Grönberg, Sawdust and Tinsel
10 Masayuki Mori, Ugetsu

1954
Dirk Bogarde, The Sleeping Tiger
Marlon Brando, On the Waterfront
Jean Gabin, Touchez pas au Grisbi
Charles Laughton, Hobson's Choice
James Stewart, Rear Window
06 Sô Yamamura, Sound of the Mountain
07 Sterling Hayden, Crime Wave
08 Glenn Ford, Human Desire
09 Anthony Quinn, La Strada
10 Burt Lancaster, Vera Cruz

1955
James Dean, Rebel Without a Cause
Alberto Closas, Death of a Cyclist
Broderick Crawford, Il Bidone
Robert Mitchum, The Night of the Hunter
Spencer Tracy, Bad Day at Black Rock
06 Henry Fonda, Mister Roberts
07 Ralph Meeker, Kiss Me Deadly
08 Fredric March, The Desperate Hours
09 Jean Servais, Rififi
10 Laurence Olivier, Richard III

1956
Dana Andrews, While the City Sleeps
Gary Cooper, Friendly Persuasion
Henry Fonda, The Wrong Man
James Mason, Bigger Than Life
Paul Newman, Somebody Up There Likes Me
06 John Wayne, The Searchers
07 Robert Ryan, The Proud Ones
08 Masahiko Tsugawa, Crazed Fruit
09 François Leterrier, A Man Escaped
10 Sterling Hayden, The Killing

1957
Ben Gazzara, The Strange One
Andy Griffith, A Face in the Crowd
Charles Laughton, Witness for the Prosecution
Marcello Mastroianni, Le Notte Bianchi
Anthony Perkins, Fear Strikes Out
06 Steve Cochran, Il Grido
07 Max von Sydow, The Seventh Seal
08 Victor Sjöström, Wild Strawberries
09 Robert Ryan, Men in War
10 Yves Montrand, The Wide Blue Road

1958
Vince Edwards, Murder by Contract
Paul Newman, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
James Stewart, Vertigo
Spencer Tracy, The Last Hurrah
Richard Widmark, The Law and Jake Wade
06 David Niven, Separate Tables
07 Alec Guiness, The Horse's Mouth
08 Chhabi Biswas, The Music Room
09 Zbigniew Cybulski, Ashes and Diamonds
10 Tony Curtis, The Defiant Ones

1959
Sergei Bondarchuk, Destiny of a Man
Vittorio De Sica, General della Rovere
Laurence Harvey, Room at the Top
Jean-Pierre Léaud, The 400 Blows
James Stewart, Anatomy of a Murder
06 Fredric March, Middle of the Night
07 Harry Belafonte, Odds Against Tomorrow
08 Alec Guiness, Our Man in Havana
09 Jack Lemmon, Some Like it Hot
10 Jean-Louis Trintignant, Violent Summer

RECENT VIEWINGS: Vincente + Vincent

2010-03-11T12:24:00.004-06:00

Vincente Minnelli certainly seems to be a no-brainer choice for a big screen adaptation of Vincent Van Gogh's story. Lust for Life (1956) is, unfortunately, all kinds of fail in its melodramatic, chronological play-by-play interspersed with art history and painting technique details. Minnelli expresses the visual inspiration that informs Van Gogh's work with finesse; the director always gets the aesthetic details of a story right. Here, he captures the struggle of artist assuredly in his trademark production design. Minnelli even makes a bold statement for a big budget film in 1956: at points, the screen becomes a slideshow of paintings, dividing episodes as if shuffling from gallery to gallery.

Yet the melodrama supersedes the aesthetic realization, something Minnelli usually avoids. The prime culprit for this beautiful descent into the mawkish is star Kirk Douglas in a performance that exposes the superficial screenplay. The actor certainly resembles Van Gogh and strives to depict his tortured struggles. Not that any celebrated painter demands subtlety, but Douglas approaches the character with such tremendous STRIFE and SUFFERING that there is little in the way of story arc. It's simply all AGONY, screaming and pounding AGONY. Nothing is internal here, but everything external and robust. Douglas comes across as a desperate novice and drags the film along. His performance lacks a core as does the by-the-books, heavily expository screenplay. The renderings of Minnelli are consistently betrayed, though the director is obviously to blame, too.

In a brief supporting performance as Paul Gauguin, Anthony Quinn shines. The actor balances audacity and vulnerability in a manner Douglas never finds.

RECENT VIEWINGS: Shohei Imamura

2010-03-09T13:19:00.002-06:00

Shohei Imamura's exciting and tragic Pigs and Battleships (Buta to gunkan, 1961) juggles the entertainment and humor of an increasingly manic gangster caper film and the conviction of a sociopolitical commentary with invigorating showmanship. Small-time hoods of a seaport town feed upon the close American base (and vice versa, of course) but Imamura focuses on a struggling couple. The young man is enticed by the corrupt ventures of the post-war Japanese-American relationship as the young woman is increasingly repulsed by the sordid opportunities available for her. The push-pull between the polite dextirity celebrated in Japanese culture and its unseemly flipside finally erupts. Imamura delivers a bizarre, captivating gunfight setpiece in which the titular pigs (a commodity of blackmarket enterprise) quite literally overtake lowlifes and the port city itself. It's an incredible sequence. Imamura has enough insight, however, to allow the livestock as well as the warships of the film's title to be very allegorical as well. Although very convoluted at times, Pigs and Battleships engagingly tackles very tangible themes even as further exploration uncovers less obvious commentary (i.e. Japan's relationship to Asian neighbors immediately after American control and the Korean War).

ICS Announces 2009 Award Winners. Yummy!

2010-02-19T12:57:00.000-06:00

February 17, 2010
ICS ACCEPTS THE MYSTERY OF A SERIOUS MAN

LOS ANGELES -- The Coen brothers’ profound and hilarious retelling of the Book of Job, set in a midwestern Jewish suburb in 1967 on the cusp of the Sexual Revolution, has won the ICS award for best film of 2009. Best director and original screenplay kudos also went to Joel and Ethan Coen’s A Serious Man, perhaps their most personal and certainly their most brilliant exploration of the relationship between God and Man.

Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon, a disturbing tale of pre-Nazi German repression, took runner-up honors for film and director, as well as winning top prizes for Christian Berger’s evocative black-and-white cinematography and for best film not in the English language.

The other big ICS winner was Fantastic Mr. Fox with three awards, including best animated film, the clever adapted screenplay by writer/director Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach, and Nelson Lowry’s fantastically stylized and textured production design.

Top acting honors went to Colin Firth in A Single Man for his emotional, nuanced turn as a gay professor dealing with the loss of his long-time lover, and to Tilda Swinton in a tour-de-force alcoholic paean to dysfunctional maternal instinct as Julia. In memorable supporting roles, Christoph Waltz got a bingo for Inglourious Basterds, while Vera Farmiga seduced us with her honesty (or did she?) in Up in the Air.

Previously released nominations may be found here.

PICTURE
01. A Serious Man
02. The White Ribbon
03. Fantastic Mr. Fox
04. Inglourious Basterds
05. Tokyo Sonata
06. 35 Shots of Rum
07. The Hurt Locker
08. District 9
09. Bright Star
10. Up In The Air

DIRECTOR
Ethan & Joel Coen – A Serious Man
runner-up: Michael Haneke – The White Ribbon

FILM NOT IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE
01. The White Ribbon
02. Tokyo Sonata
03. 35 Shots of Rum
04. Summer Hours
05. Broken Embraces
06. Still Walking
07. Lorna’s Silence
08. The Beaches of Agnès
09. Ponyo
10. O’Horten
11. The Headless Woman

ACTOR
Colin Firth – A Single Man
runner- up: Michael Stuhlbarg – A Serious Man

ACTRESS
Tilda Swinton – Julia
runner-up: Abbie Cornish – Bright Star

SUPPORTING ACTOR
Christoph Waltz – Inglourious Basterds
runner-up: Peter Capaldi – In the Loop

SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Vera Farmiga – Up In The Air
runners-up: Mo’Nique – Precious and Penélope Cruz - Broken Embraces

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
A Serious Man – Ethan & Joel Coen
runner-up: Inglourious Basterds – Quentin Tarantino

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Fantastic Mr. Fox – Wes Anderson & Noah Baumbach
runner-up: In the Loop – Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell, Armando Iannucci & Tony Roche

CINEMATOGRAPHY
The White Ribbon – Christian Berger
runner-up: Inglourious Basterds – Robert Richardson

EDITING
The Hurt Locker – Chris Innis & Bob Murawski
runner-up: Broken Embraces – José Salcedo

PRODUCTION DESIGN
Fantastic Mr. Fox – Nelson Lowry
runner-up: A Serious Man – Jess Gonchor

ORIGINAL SCORE
A Single Man – Abel Korzeniowski
runner-up: Fantastic Mr. Fox – Alexandre Desplat

ENSEMBLE
In the Loop
runner-up: The White Ribbon

ANIMATED FILM
Fantastic Mr. Fox
runner-up: Ponyo

DOCUMENTARY
The Beaches of Agnès
runner-up: Anvil! The Story of Anvil

www.icsfilm.org

REVIEW: Nine (Marshall, 2009)

2010-01-14T11:09:00.004-06:00

It's time to play catch-up!

Nine (Marshall, 2009): It is unfortunate that the film adaptation of Nine has the aura of complete critical and box office failure. While very flawed, the film is also very watchable, a refreshingly dramatic musical in an age where musical cinema leans heavily upon the comedic and light. Italian film great Guido Contini (Daniel Day-Lewis, far more capable here than detractors credit) is a director in creative crisis: he has no idea how to craft his ninth feature. A multitude of women from his life inform his tortured process in a parade of Academy Award-winning actresses. And then Kate Hudson and Fergie.

For those who have seen the stage production or have enjoyed the inspiration for that work, Federico Fellini's masterpiece 8½, this is all very familiar. Rob Marshall attempts to bridge the stage and the cinema in this version, crafting musical set pieces Contini's massive Cinecittà soundstage. These numbers are a manifestation of Contini's torment and searching. His creative process is revealed as the women of his life take stage, alternating between the sparkling and the somber. Contini ultimately unable to fashion his film despite these muses. Yet over the course of Nine, these encounters form the very film that eludes the filmmaker. In its finale, the director finally calls action on set but the viewer has already seen his completed work in the preceding minutes.

Marshall uses the same stage-as-prespective approach employed in Chicago (2002). The execution is more abrupt and distracting here, with exaggerated cross-cutting between the real and the cerebral that rob most numbers from cohesiveness. The impact of number like "Folies Bergere" (with Judi Dench as Contini's trusted costumer, Lilli), is dampened because Marshall seems unwilling to allow a viewer to experience the visceral without constantly reminders that these moments are, indeed, internal. In a parallel to his lead character, the director of Nine seems to be his own worst enemy.

Yet moments shine throughout and admirably prop up filmmaker missteps. Penelope Cruz, in particular, energizes in her scenes, balancing the melancholy with slinky, sexy allure. But it is Marion Cotillard who holds the film together as Contini's put-upon wife, Luisa. Her scenes ache with heart in a film sometimes too cold and her two musical numbers most successfully bridge the internal and external anguish of Guido through the sympathetic pleas of his wife.

REVIEW: Remember the Night

2009-12-21T08:23:00.003-06:00

A holiday delight that resonates from a Preston Sturges creenplay, Remember the Night assays familiar moral territory inconspicuously. As he did with the scripter’s classic Easy Living (1937), Mitchell Leisen directs. In the earlier collaboration, down-on-her-luck Jean Arthur chances upon luxury, an impetus for the screenwriter to lightly pit haves against have-nots. In Remember the Night, new to DVD from the Universal-TCM Vault Collection, star Barbara Stanwyck initially has less serendipitous designs upon good fortune.

Read the rest at Alt Film Guide!

REVIEW: Inspiration (Brown, 1931)

2009-12-10T12:15:00.000-06:00

Comparitively obscure in her filmography, Inspiration (1931) is the third sound work from Greta Garbo. For the first time her sultry, weary likeability is tangible in the post-silent era. Unlike the dire and serious Anna Christie and the silly and melodramatic Romance (both 1930), the actress seems at ease with character and within a cinematic showcase mired in nothing more than a celebration of her stardom. Clarence Brown is once again director and uses every production element to celebrate the romantic but melancholic allure of his star.

The story is not particularly strong: Yvonne (Garbo) is a woman of the world, a model with a checkered past. She was the muse of many men. She falls in love with the naive André (Robert Montgomery) and he with her. Once he discovers her history, however, he is uncertain he can be with such a woman. Inspiration essentially bounces back and forth in this scenario towards a sober conclusion. Garbo was served better by a similar, more potent story five years later in the heartbreaking Camille (1936).

A strength of Inspiration is the restraint with which it delivers melodrama; credit goes to director Brown for this controlled approach. While the story is basic and highly repetitive (he loves me, he loves me not, etc.), it provides ample opportunity for Garbo to convincingly explore the highs and lows of love. The screen great suffers beautifully, but she also registers happiness in a lovely manner. And while the performance is not as actorly as her attempt at Anna Christie, it is another confident step away from the exotic mistresses and mysertious vamps of her silent days.

REVIEW: Scarlet Dawn (Dieterle, 1932)

2009-12-09T10:31:00.001-06:00

A minor, ridiculous dramatic romance, Scarlet Dawn nonetheless entertains with saucy early moments of pre-Code debauchery and a rakish, lively lead performance from Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. The film begins in 1917, on the eve of revolution in Russia, with playboy Baron Krasnoff (Fairbanks) on leave, staggering through an unbridled bacchanal that briefly tests the limits of screen decency. He returns to his estate and immediately attempts to ravish the servant woman Tanyusha (Nancy Carroll) in what amounts to a heap of sexual harassment. She repels her master but soon revolt breaks out. Master and servant are thrown together by chance.

Krasnoff is stripped off his holdings and Tanyusha follows the now penniless Baron to Constantinople. The two marry and Krasnoff attempts to work a menial job in a kitchen. He is soon lured from common labor by another expatriate acquaintance, the sly Vera (Lilyan Tashman). She conjures a plan for the dashing Baron use his aristocratic legacy to bilk naive Americans with fake jewels. Eventually, he must choose between this life and returning to Russia with Tanyusha.

The romantic story is largely nonsense, of course. William Dieterle is a precise director and does not linger at any point of this superficial tale, which allows the film to briskly unfold. Scarlet Dawn would benefit from some greater exposition, however. That Tanyusha follows an abusive master out of loyalty and then marries him does not feel credible without greater explanation or character insight. An inference of motivation is missing and the love story desperately needs this depth. Suspension of belief is also necessary to accept Fairbanks Jr. as Russian nobility, though his performance is so magnetic and lively that the improbability barely registers in favor of a gregarious star turn.

Intriguingly, Scarlet Dawn does not attack the Bolsheviks or Communist ideology. That is not to say it fully embraces these elements, either. Mostly the social and political remain ambiguous on the periphery even though Baron Krasnoff seems willing to accept most change (even if the ideologies are unnamed). The film does not exactly exalt the virtues of Capitalism with the flippant attitude the Baron exhibits towards low-wage jobs and the presentation of Americans as naive bamboozle opportunities. Though its leanings are wishy-washy, Scarlet Dawn could never be made in the same manner only a few years subsequent and is precisely the kind of film that would attract Red Scare attention a decade later.

Scarlet Dawn will be featured on TCM as part of its Shadows of Russia programming.

REVIEW: Somers Town

2009-12-08T15:27:00.002-06:00

Somers Town (Shane Meadows, 2009) is a pleasant, small film from the director of This is England. The latter film received more attention than the former. Somers Town is a short, sincere work, though both are worthwhile.

Check out Alternative Film Guide for my full review!

RECENT VIEWINGS: The Blind Side

2009-12-01T11:55:00.002-06:00

The Blind Side (Hancock, 2009) is not a film for the cynical, so leave that mindset in the minivan upon arrival at the multiplex. It is unabashedly happy-ending and relentless positive, a prototypical feel-good movie. And while standard conventions are adhered to and audience expectations met, The Blind Side still feels surprising--probably because its components work so well and with almost refreshing straightforwardness. A disadvantaged, bulky African-American teenager, Michael Oher (Quiton Aaron), is welcomed into the lives of an upper-class white family by the mother, Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock). She discovers his potential as a football star and encourages the talent as she embraces him as a member of her family. Critics have noted that the premise, while based-on-a-true-story, feels very much like another cinematic example of self-congratulatory back-patting for white folks. Perhaps there is no escaping a hint of that. The film seems to emphasize class differences and acts of kindness rather than racial dispartities, however, and does so in a manner glossy but at least emotionally authentic. The film is just as concerned with Leigh Anne as it is Michael, though, as her motivations are slowly uncovered along the way to a warm resolution. The Blind Side may fail the Oher character slightly as it creates a dynamic star turn for Sandra Bullock. Yet the final, simple message of love and protection succeeds precisely because the funny, frank Bullock performance (very much a studio-era star throwback; even the spot-on hair, make-up and wardrobe feels like a modern interpretation of a classic approach) pulls everything in The Blind Side sharply together.

RECENT VIEWINGS: Ann Harding

2009-11-18T10:38:00.003-06:00

Her Private Affair (Rollo Lloyd and Paul L. Stein): Early sound dramatic films are frequently marked with abundant theatrical dialogue and this adaptation of a play is not an exception. Why have sound, after all, if every moment of a film is not filled with banter? So Her Private Affair is largely stage-bound with rigid editing, but the film never quite aches with the fixed fortitude of many contemporaneous works. Perhaps the average shot length is few seconds less or maybe the short overall running time contributes to the perception (though even at a brisk 71 minutes, the film is longer than other features of the era) . More likely culprits are the interesting, if antiquated, performances—particularly star Ann Harding.

As a society woman who accidentally murders her would-be blackmailer, Harding certainly plays to the back of the house. On-screen and off-screen husband Harry Bannister is dead weight against the actress, though John Loder registers better as a chaste friend. As the patsy on trial for the killing, Elmer Ballard delivers a robust, sometimes outrageous performance that finds a center in his final scenes. The focus, however, is always Harding. Her mannerisms are grand and more appropriate for silent film making, but something about her deep, hesitant voice is convincing and ambiguous. The moral dilemma of her character, a bout between guilt and selfishness, provides a few entertaining and melodramatic moments. Harding is affected but nonetheless manages to convince in her portrayal of a woman quickly slipping into paralyzing regret. The superficiality works well for such a self-centered character! The more unhinged she becomes, the more dynamic Her Private Affair appears even if the film is generally a routine and clunky early-era "talkie".

AWARDS: Top Ten Films of 1929 Updated!

2009-11-18T07:45:00.003-06:00

Compiled for your enjoyment, my top ten films of 1929, as well as a few additional categories with nominations (and winners). Enjoy!

RECENT VIEWINGS: Pixar + Woody Allen

2009-11-16T09:46:00.004-06:00

Up (Docter, 2009): Nostalgia is a commodity for Pixar. With every film, the studio's reliance upon viewers' shared past to earn emotional authenticity becomes more deliberate and meticulous. The first act of Up is more of the same, with adult-themed animated storytelling. The opening tale that explains the background of hero/curmudgeon Carl Fredrickson (voiced by Ed Asner) is rich and nicely rendered, but nonetheless yet another dip into the archives for Pixar. It is essentially an expanded variation upon the "When She Loved Me" segment in Toy Story 2. And when the story literally sets sail, it lands in what appears to be another film altogether, with bizarre birds and talking dogs (though the running "squirrel" gag is funny). The uplifting conclusion is fine, but inevitable.

Whatever Works (Allen, 2009): Woody Allen surrounds his Allen stand-in (Larry David) with a cast of mainly Southern yokels to great comedic effect in a solid exploration of typical Allen subject matter (love and death, etc.). Davis is Boris, the storyteller and self-proclaimed genius, fighting neuroses post-divorce. Into his Manhattan world sashays a dim-bulb pageant survivor from Mississippi, Melodie (Evan Rachel Wood). She is the shallow pastiche of almost everything Boris is not, a crude caricature and cliché to bend and shape. Melodie is a sounding board for fear and desire. Allen via Boris deals in ridiculous, antiquated Southern stereotypes, but with a wink: Woody Allen knows that Boris (i.e. the filmmaker himself) is also a stereotype. The film does not arrive at any grand observations and is perhaps too frivolous in its musings. That is quite all right. With Patricia Clarkson as an evangelical Southern mother remarking that her daughter Melodie is living "like a sharecropper", however, the humor of Whatever Works is undeniable.

VERONICA LAKE: Happy Birthday (If I had hair, it would drape over an eye as I type this.)

2009-11-13T11:57:00.005-06:00

Veronica Lake is iconic even to those who do not recognize know her name, as her signature 'peekaboo bang' style is incorporated into the glamor oeuvre of many female celebrities a and performances. Obviously, Kim Basinger in L.A. Confidential and Jessica Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (or their tresses) owe Lake, or at least the goddess Paramount created from one Constance Frances Marie Ockelman and christened Veronica Lake. But her look is also fairly ubiquitous to many retro- Classic Hollywood red carpets or magazine covers or music videos.

The actress was sometimes window dressing to Alan Ladd in her short career and never fully able to able to stretch herself. A few of her earliest featured performances, however, capture an inherent comedic timing and raw nuance. Lake is undeniable as The Girl in Preston Sturges' hybrid message picture Sullivan's Travels (1941) and she is one cool sorceress in I Married a Witch (1942) The wartime, homefront drama So Proudly We Hail! (1943) asserts Lake's dramatic potential sans bangs. Though her performances with Ladd in such noirs as This Gun for Hire (1942), The Glass Key (1942) and The Blue Dahlia (1946) are iconic, celebrated conceptions of the femme fatale or twists upon the fatale ideal, the actress seems to have less and less to actually do in each film. Her ample charisma certain makes up for lesser character development. In the mid-1940s, a combination of personal tragedy (loss of a child and divorce) and professional misfires crippled her career.

And yet her image endures. Her signature style remains the go-to aesthetic for any fatale role. A revisit of her films often uncovers something more than artifice, however. So on the eve of her birthday, Veronica Lake should certainly be celebrated!

REVIEW: The Goddess (1958)

2009-11-12T06:47:00.003-06:00

Paddy Chayefsky evokes a cynical Tennessee Williams in his screenplay for The Goddess, a Hollywood cautionary tale directed by veteran John Cromwell. Episodic in progression — the film is broken into three pulpy chapters — The Goddess serves as a spotlight for a daring Kim Stanley performance, playing within the middle-brow arena of melodrama even as it stages dark comedy and acute commentary.

In The Goddess, Stanley is Emily Ann Faulkner, a broken woman from rural hickdom who has been abandoned by her irresponsible mother. (The child is portrayed by Patty Duke; Betty Lou Holland is persuasive as the selfish biological mother.) She is raised by relatives, primarily a Seventh Day Adventist aunt. Stardom, however, is Emily’s higher calling.

She mimics the flirty sensuality of a young Lana Turner, even taking a job at a soda fountain-cum-pharmacy. She then takes the ‘sweater girl’ image further than anything seen on-screen, gaining a reputation in town as ‘promiscuous.’ (Chayefsky slyly suggests that young women imitate starlets with an inherent knowledge of sex beyond anything overtly showcased on film or in fan magazines.)

Read my full review at Alternative Film Guide!

ROBERT RYAN: Centennial Salute

2009-11-10T12:43:00.005-06:00

Robert Ryan was one of the great American film actors of the last century, rising to prominence in the post WWII era though he never quite achieved superstar status. His villainous, corrupt characters in a range of supporting roles are most notable, though he also headlined a number of films as a lead. Turner Classic Movies showcases a few of these wonderful, wicked performances tonight and tomorrow evening in honor of the centennial of his birth on November 11, 1909.

Ryan was an imposing screen presence at 6’ 4”, rugged and masculine with an athletic build that served his more sinister characters to perfection. He was also quite handsome, though his ominous edges seemed to handicap his ability to access traditional leading roles. In Tender Comrade (Edward Dmytryk, 1944), Ryan flirted with romantic melodrama as the doomed serviceman husband of Ginger Rogers. Even this early supporting performance is underscored with darkness; the film is wartime propaganda with a supposed political message that would further complicate or aid in the career destruction of several actors and filmmakers involved during the House Un-American Activities Committee hearings. (A passionate liberal, Ryan avoided the blacklist that marred the careers of director Dmytryk, screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, and actresses Mady Christians and Kim Hunter, all of whom worked on Tender Comrade. Ginger Rogers blasted the alleged Communist ideology of the film.)

The paranoia of the post-WWII and early Cold War era that generated the best in American film of the period, most notably in film noir, fit the attributes and talents of Robert Ryan well. The actor is at his best inhabiting characters threatened by shifts in the status quo, by changes in social order. His Academy Award-nominated performance as an anti-Semitic soldier in Crossfire (Edward Dmytryk, 1947) was a professional breakthrough. In the role, Ryan surveys the psychological landscape of ideological agitation with a complicated, loathsome vulnerability. The supporting Oscar went to Edmund Gwenn’s warm Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street. Robert Ryan nonetheless established his finesse in developing multi-dimensional interpretations of complex characters in 1947—not only in Crossfire, but also as another conflicted member of the Armed Forces—in Jean Renoir’s The Woman on the Beach.

Outstanding work in noirs such as Fred Zinnemann’s under-appreciated Act of Violence (1948) and Max Ophüls’ Caught (1949) followed. Ryan possesses a cunning attractiveness in these films, a cold allure of instability that culminates in quite different character trajectories specific to each. His physical potency is commanding as a has-been boxer in Robert Wise’s real-time The Set-Up (1949); Ryan was a collegiate boxer and this film is perhaps the most straightforward expression of his athletic power, albeit in retrograde. Even in his work in comparatively minor fare such as the sensational I Married a Communist! (Robert Stevenson, 1949) and the deliciously tawdry Born to Be Bad (Nicholas Ray, 1950), the actor is always an arresting screen force.

The maturation of Robert Ryan as an actor arguably culminates in another Ray film, the noir masterpiece On Dangerous Ground (1951). As a violent, unbalanced police detective, Ryan realizes the combative agitation found in many of his supporting performances, this time as a leading man. The internal anxieties of his earlier work inform his searing external portrayal. His muscular physicality is further reduced and the abstract hollowness of his gaze, so pronounced throughout his filmography, collapses into redemption. The actor frequently registers bleak resignation in his work, but in this film that imminent submission reveals hope.

Some subsequent performances lacked such salvation. In Bad Day at Black Rock (John Sturges, 1955) Ryan’s cruel racist is tremendously actualized evil. Regardless, the actor creates his customary complexities of performance and hints at the possibility of redemption, a hallmark of his performances from Crossfire onward. The tension between good and evil is slightly more fluid for the Ryan characters in Clash by Night (Lang, 1952), The Naked Spur (Anthony Mann, 1953) and Odds Against Tomorrow (Robert Wise, 1959). Yet a less stereotypical, “good” character portrayed by Ryan in a lesser film like Inferno (Vincent J. Donehue, 1958) also exhibits a sophisticated morality that is encroached by conflict. Though the characters and situations may appear black and white, with Robert Ryan, there are seldom such absolutes.

Ryan enjoyed experiences on the stage as well, appearing Eugene O’Neill’s A Long Day’s Journey Into Night, and the time-tested Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur comedy The Front Page. Solid supporting work in war dramas and Westerns followed Ryan into his final decade of film acting (The Longest Day, The Dirty Dozen and The Wild Bunch are perhaps the most recognizable films to modern audiences in the actor's arsenal), culminating in John Frankenheimer’s adaptation of O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh (1973). In contrast to many of his bold, aggressive portrayals, Robert Ryan was an outspoken supporter of Civil Rights and vehemently against McCarthyism. The disparities between his personal convictions and some of his notable performances might appear difficult to reconcile. As charged and as memorable as his villainous and bigoted roles remain, however, it is important to note that Ryan never celebrates these men onscreen. Instead, he frequently creates characters of depth that relay the realities of human experience as change envelopes society. He does so in terms relatable—even at their most extreme—to audiences. Because he often eschews flimsy, thin representations, his work continues to provoke and involve viewers.

RECENT VIEWINGS: Ophüls + Godard

2009-11-04T13:24:00.006-06:00

Lola Montès (Ophüls, 1955): That this film is tragically resonant in the TMZ era goes without saying. Scandalous Lola Montès is center ring in Ophüls' literal circus, a superificial object of lust and obsession by a nineteenth-century audience infatuated with her carnal celebrity. She is reviled, humiliated and celebrated--the rigorous routine of infamy. As the disgraced mistress, Martine Carol is mostly blank. This should not be confused with, say, a Britney Spears and her "Circus", however. This is Ophüls, after all, so the story is told through potent, precise camerawork and a decadant production that creates layers of visual communication. Lola is a cinematic whiteboard and Ophüls is armed with markers. And when the director provocatively places the viewer of Lola Montès into his carnival audience, the film becomes much less a courtesan biopic and much more an exquisite assessment of onlookers as participants in the spectacle.

A Woman is a Woman (Godard, 1961): A musical that becomes so excited in itself that it forgets itself with a wink and smile, Godard's warm, funny first color film is a delight. Anna Karina is the muse, of course, and the film is a love song to her even if that song never quite makes it to screen. The idea of it does, however, and that is the stated intent of the director. Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean-Claude Brialy are the men in Karina's Eastmancolor world and Godard drops the three into a Lubitsch operetta by way of cinéma vérité. Reflexiveness abounds in staccato movements, echoed in the Pop Art score from Michel Legrand. When Belmondo mentions his friend "Burt Lancaster" and breaks the fourth wall with a wide grin, the joy of A Woman is a Woman for a filmlover is undeniable.

RECENT VIEWINGS: Kim Stanley, Powell + Pressburger, Deanna Durbin + Charles Laughton

2009-11-03T08:45:00.004-06:00

The Goddess (John Cromwell, 1958): Sadly unavailable on DVD, this Paddy Chayefsky-penned cautionary tale is a tremendous vehicle for lead actress Kim Stanley. The story follows the trajectory of an emotionally wounded woman from small town matinée daydreaming through lonely stardom. Parallels between moviestar worship and religious fanaticism as mechanisms for escape are acute. The screenplay is uneven in structure, but the bravura performance of Stanley (who, against type manages to accurately convince as a teenager and later blonde bombshell) is compelling. Thank God this role did not fall into the hands of fellow Actors Studio thesp Geraldine Page!

49th Parallel (Michael Powell + Emeric Pressburger, 1941): Filmed prior to the United States entry into World War II, the film is complete propaganda. Stars Laurence Olivier (rather lousy as a French-Canadian trapper), Leslie Howard, Anton Walbrook and Raymond Massey fend off a rapidly dwindling group of Nazis across Canada. Powell and Pressburger bring the threat direct to America's doorstep in this variation of an Agatha Christie story and the thriller elements are solid. The Nazi regiment is even treated with a degree of humanity, even though all characters are thin stereotypes.

It Started with Eve (Henry Koster, 1941): Deanna Durbin eases nicely into an adult role as a coat check girl with singing aspirations. She avoids the vestiges of child star mugging that followed her contemporaries into mature film work (I'm grimacing at you, Judy Garland). Durbin has comedic finesse and a lovely soft sell of comic delivery. Nevertheless, Charles Laughton walks away with the film. The stalwart character actor (given to his own brand of mugging, absent here) delivers a compassionate, ornery and funny take on an old, millionaire baron of industry awakened from illness through a charade perpetuated by son (amiable Robert Cummings) and Durbin. Light and fluffy, the film interjects small screwball elements but never pretends to be anything other than a charming diversion.

Top 100 Films of the 1930s

2009-11-02T07:44:00.005-06:00

So, given the free time I have had recently (unfortunately!), I finally pulled together my top 100 films of the 1930s. There are still a few important films I need to see, works that are a little difficult to come by in the United States. I am working on it, though!

The Awful Truth (McCarey, 1937)
Les Misérables (Bernard, 1934)
Gone With the Wind (Fleming, 1939)
The Story of Late Chrysanthemums (Mizoguchi, 1939)
Love Me Tonight (Mamoulian, 1932)
Bringing Up Baby (Hawks, 1938)
The Masseurs and a Woman (Shimizu, 1938)
Young Mr. Lincoln (Ford, 1939)
Humanity and Paper Balloons (Yamanaka, 1937)
La Grand Illusion (Renoir, 1937)
Osaka Elegy (Mizoguchi, 1936)
Sous les toits de Paris (Clair, 1930)
The Rules of the Game (Renoir, 1939)
L'Âge d'or (Buñuel, 1930)
Le Million (Clair, 1931)
The Women (Cukor, 1939)
La Chienne (Renoir, 1931)
Bombshell (Fleming, 1933)
Le Jour se lève (Carné, 1939)
Design for Living (Lubitsch, 1933)
What Price Hollywood? (Cuckor, 1932)
The Threepenny Opera (Pabst, 1931)
Beauty and the Boss (Del Ruth, 1932)
M (Lang, 1931)
Pygmalion (Asquith & Howard, 1938)
Fury (Lang, 1936)
Sisters of the Gion (Mizoguchi, 1936)
Midnight (Leisen, 1939)
City Girl (Murnau, 1930)
The Good Fairy (Wyler, 1935)
Bluebeard's Eighth Wife (Lubitsch, 1938)
Zéro de conduite (Vigo, 1933)
Avalanche (Naruse, 1937)
Stagecoach (Ford, 1939)
Little Man, What Now? (Borzage, 1934)
Japanese Girls at the Harbor (Shimizu, 1933)
The Big House (Hill, 1930)
My Man Godfrey (La Cava, 1936)
Hands Across the Table (Leisen, 1935)
Tokyo Chorus (Ozu, 1931)
Baby Face (Green, 1933)
The Goddess (Wu, 1934)
Waterloo Bridge (Whale, 1931)
The Merry Widow (Lubitsch, 1934)
The Milky Way (McCarey, 1936)
Vampyr - Der Traum des Allan Grey (Dreyer, 1932)
Red-Headed Woman (Conway, 1932)
Trouble in Paradise (Lubitsch, 1932)
Le Roman d'un Tricheur (Guitry, 1936)
Ruggles of Red Gap (McCarey, 1935)
The Scarlet Empress (von Sternberg, 1934)
I Was Born, But… (Ozu, 1932)
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (Capra, 1939)
Alexander Nevsky (Eisenstein, 1938)
The Wizard of Oz (Fleming, 1939)
À nous la liberté (Clair, 1931)
Three Godfathers (Boleslawski, 1936)
City Lights (Chaplin, 1931)
Earth (Dovzhenko, 1930)
Theodora Goes Wild (Boleslawski, 1936)
Easy Living (Leisen, 1937)
The Gay Divocee (Sandrich, 1934)
Mr. Thank You (Shimizu, 1936)
Wooden Crosses (Bernard, 1932)
Boudu Saved From Drowning (Renoir, 1932)
Dinner at Eight (Cukor, 1933)
All Quiet on the Western Front (Milestone, 1930)
Libeled Lady (Conway, 1936)
Man's Castle (Borzage, 1933)
Queen Christina (Mamoulian, 1933)
Liebelei (Ophüls, 1933)
Ninotchka (Lubistch 1939)
Partie de campagne (Renoir, 1936)
The Easiest Way (Conway, 1931)
The Adventures of Robin Hood (Curtiz, 1938)
42nd Street (Bacon, 1933)
One Way Passage (Garnett, 1932)
Make Way for Tomorrow (McCarey, 1937)
Freaks (Browning, 1932)
Port of Shadows (Carné, 1938)
Bride of Frankenstein (Whale, 1935)
It Happened One Night (Capra, 1934)
Holiday (Cukor, 1938)
A Story of Floating Weeds (Ozu, 1934)
Modern Times (Chaplin, 1936)
The 39 Steps (Hitchcock, 1935)
Duck Soup (McCarey, 1933)
La Bête Humaine (Renoir, 1938)
Top Hat (Sandrich, 1935)
The Public Enemy (Wellman, 1931)
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (Hand, 1937)
Mayerling (Litvak, 1936)
King Kong (Cooper + Schoedsack, 1933)
Carnival in Flanders (Feyder, 1935)
Gold Diggers of 1933 (LeRoy, 1933)
The Thin Man (Van Dyke, 1934)
L'Atalante (Vigo, 1934)
Topper (McLeod, 1937)
The Blood of a Poet (Cocteau, 1930)
History is Made at Night (Borzage, 1937)

REVIEW: He Married His Wife (Del Ruth, 1940)

2007-01-31T11:42:00.000-06:00

He Married His Wife is a completely charming, clunky comedy that never quite reaches its screwball potential. It simply lacks the manic romantic interplay and breezy directorial guidance that the best examples of that (sub) genre exude. The number of screenwriters attributed to the film suggest a screenplay by committee, but He Married His Wife excels more often than not in terms of comedic structure and dialogue.

The premise is a stretch, of course. T.H. Randall (Joel McCrea) is arrested for failure to pay alimony to his ex-wife Valerie (Nancy Kelly) as they dance in some sort of divorce anniversary celebration. Valerie has concocted the date in order to punish T.H. (or Randy, as he is called). The set-up is ridiculous and immediately a viewer knows to throw reason out the window, though such an approach might have been indicated by the very title of the film. Convoluted as it is, the dance arrest makes for an entertaining scene and actors Kelly and McCrea are game (though McCrea, for all of his handsome earnestness, is a little too straight of a straight man here).

To avoid paying alimony, Randall elaborates a scheme with his attorney Bill Carter (the wonderful Roland Young) to marry-off his ex-wife. Through a zany chance encounter with the eccentric, flighty Ethel Hilary (the fabulous, award-worthy Mary Boland), Randy, Bill and Valerie are invited on a weekend excursion at Ethel's country estate. Naturally, several disparate suitors emerge for Valerie. One of these, the aw-shucks Paul (Lyle Talbot) is Randy's choice for his ex, but his plans to bring the two together are thrown in disarray when the slick, sleazy (and we soon find out, married) Freddie (Cesar Romero) makes the moves on Valerie. The resulting hijinks are quite amusing; one wishes that director Roy Del Ruth adapted a less deliberate, more whimsical hand in his work to embrace the sheer audacity of the story. It is all played far too sincere. Scenarios that result in Mary Boland blowing a bullhorn should never be played for sincerity.

The results are predictable, to be sure. But there is fun getting to the resolution. Trouble is, more fun was possible, if only the filmmakers had followed the spirit of the screenplay and performances and gone for strident comedy as opposed to more traditional light romance. Still, there are sharp one-liners, excellent supporting performances (especially from Boland who could probably out-Spring Byington Spring Byington and a bizarre near-cameo from the always interesting Elisha Cook, Jr., as a yogi?) and downright likable leads. He Married His Wife is a good example of typical Hollywood moviemaking that is above average, but not quite classic. It is a complete guilty-pleasure, however, and a delightful ride.

The Worst Best Actress Winners Ever.

2007-01-17T14:25:00.000-06:00

Inspired by this poll, I present my picks for the worst winners of the coveted Best Actress statuette:

01 Ginger Rogers, Kitty Foyle
02 Luise Rainer, The Good Earth
03 Elizabeth Taylor, Butterfield 8
04 Nicole Kidman, The Hours
05 Jennifer Jones, The Song of Bernadette

It is not as if these performances are all bad (well, okay, almost all are). Yet a consideration of who these women beat to get their eager little hands on an award is important.

To wit Ginger Rogers defeated nominees Katharine Hepburn (The Philadelphia Story), Bette Davis (The Letter) and Joan Fontaine (Rebecca). Even the other nominee, Martha Scott (Our Town) is much better than Ms. Rogers. It is rather dubious, no?

REVIEW: Dreamgirls

2006-11-16T10:54:00.000-06:00

Dreamgirls is perhaps the best recent example of a modern Hollywood production using the traditional template of the classic studio era. The film is a wonderful example of what broad appeal film entertainment can be. The source musical material is relentlessly engaging but the true hero of this adaptation is director-screenwrite Bill Condon. He trusts his source and realizes that the strength of this showbiz story is the music, the songs. So he crafts a film that works entirely in support of the beat and lets the narrative unfold through the music. Everything about Dreamgirls is precise and lovely, from the costumes to the editing and into the sweet, driven performances. Condon seems to pull the best from his entire filmmaking team, from the seasoned to the novice. His faith and belief in the value of the Dreamgirls story is seemingly contagious. It really is wonderful to watch a film in which everything aligns so well unfold.

If I was a columnist for Modern Screen or another fan mag of a different era, I could sum Dreamgirls best with a simple, quaint description: winning.

REVIEW: Summer Palace (2006)

2006-11-15T10:24:00.000-06:00

The central character of Summer Palace, Yu Hong (Hao Lei) spends hours at university in Beijing in thought by an abandoned pool. She composes meaningful, gorgeous journal entries, heard in voiceover. Yu Hong is passionate just short of crazy and she seems obsessed with both a lover and her own doom. Yu awakens to her needs and desires, but can never fully understand or accept what the eventuality of these will be. She is always, however, aware of their power.

Director Ye Lou expands this exploration of the young woman and her circle of friends to that of an entire country and people. Cast in part against the background of the student protests in Tiananmen Square, Ye finds an uncomfortable, provocative parallel between that movement and the journey of Yu Hong. The director truly excels in the scenes of Yu Hong and her boyfriend Zhou Wei and their friends. He embraces the energy and hope of the students, though sorrow abounds in disconnect (for example, Ye Lou is found of using very upbeat Chinese or dated English-language pop songs even when his visual palette suggest something darker). His use of more natural lighting and handheld camera during the sex scenes (and there are many) is entirely simplistic--even obvious--but fresh in its certainty.

The film is overwhelming at points, sparse at others. This is not a thematic extension of Yu Hong but rather pointed execution. It works, though the narrative journey taken after the young woman and her friends leave Beijing in different directions is often tedious. That is purposeful (but I suspect half of any negative comments about the film will attack its excessive length) as it draws a viewer further into the often wanting post-collegiate lives of the students. That is not too say that the film is without excess; it has plenty and not all of it good. Director Ye does use too many characters and his manner of quickly introducing a seemingly purposeless character only to have that individual reappear rankles and is confusing. The heartbreak and sadness of Summer Palace is not easy. Still, it is beguiling and even optimistic.

OSCARS: Best Picture

2006-11-01T12:46:00.000-06:00

Without a doubt, Martin Scorsese's The Departed will be nominated for Best Picture. Big hit, big stars, big director: it's a done deal. That is not to say the film will win the top prize, but this far out it still seems the likeliest. Peaking too soon is probably the only thing Warner Bros. has to worry about in The Departed, but that should not effect the nominations.

If there is a sight-unseen frontrunner, it's obviously Dreamgirls. The Paramount-Dreamworks screen musical promises the requesite dramatic elements with scattered comic touches (courtesy of Eddie Murphy's James 'Thunder' Early character). The lack of negative buzz is as strong an indicator as any positive buzz that Bill Condon delivers. Earlier screenings of segments and the completely were warmly received, though expect increased internet, tabloid-y mumblings (likely unfair) about Beyonce as the release date approaches. But everything about this film spells well-made, crowd-pleasing Academy-friendly hit movie and those who hate the idea of the film must simply loathe entertainment.

Helen Mirren's performance is probably the surest nomination in any category this year (ok, right now) and the goodwill could likely extend to The Queen. Best Actress nominees in female-driven works, however, do not seem to drag those films into the Best Picture lineup often. But pre-release buzz indicated the film was all about Mirren and it may have been somewhat surprising to audiences that the piece is more than the performance. Stephen Frears manages to both damn and embrace Queen Elizabeth II without sacrificing entertainment. While it is difficult to imagine many voters weighing the film as a number one choice, it is not difficult to suppose it will appear on many short lists. It is an easy film to admire and thoroughly enjoyable with an "important" lead character.

The Good German is another unknown quantity. It seems to have a lot going for it in the aesthetic and technical categories, plus two recent Oscar winners in the lead roles. Add in an additional Oscar-winner in director Steven Soderbergh and the film seems to exude pedigree. But will the black and white film be too much of an exercise and will it be too referential to an earlier era of filmmaking to be broadly embraced? The film probably needs to be more thriller than homage to make the final five and might need ample critical support for Warner Bros. to mount a serious best picture campaign. Right now, the film looks likely for perhaps five or more nominations so it has to be considered likely in the biggest category.

If there is to be a more-traditional crowdpleaser among the final five Best Picture contenders, it will likely be Little Miss Sunshine. Having emerged profitable (and maybe lovable) from the Sundance Curse, the film can be regarded as a true success. It is lightweight, but has serious underpinning. It has stars, but is "independent." A nomination for Little Miss Sunshine could be a serious pat-on-the-back for industry types. Though the film might be seen as derivative, its familiarity might work in its favor. A well-organized campaign could eventually make this a given even if I can not see the picture's helmers figuring into the Best Director hunt.

Lurking outside my top five are Alejandro González Iñárritu's Babel, Pedro Almodóvar's Volver, Peter Greengrass' United 93 and Clint Eastwood's plummeting Flags of Our Fathers. The current buzz is so very Babel, but the film seems to be slightly underwhelming critics. Slightly, but divisively. Box office will obviously be important (it always is to some degree) but I just can not quite imagine members embracing Iñárritu yet, Brad Pitt or not. A week might change that. There seems to be a lull in the buzz for Volver. As many have pointed out, though, if the Academy can embrace Talk to Her with a few nominations then surely the more-accessible Volver can figure into nominations. Look for the buzz to build again. United 93 has always seemed to be a "Best Director nomination without a corresponding Best Picture nomination" to me, though it deserves both. The subject matter made the film a difficult sell to general audiences and that might be the case with Academy audiences.

And despite poor box office and not-super-great reviews (average is often perfect of the Academy Awards, though), one can not completely ignore Flags of Our Fathers. Clint Eastwood has become some sort of Oscar patriarch in recent years and the it-has-to-be- better-despite-an-awful-title Letters from Iwo Jima will keep the director in the spotlight.

What is probably juiciest about the Best Picture race is the general consensus about nine or ten nominees. Outside of the presumptive lock or two, a case can be made any of these films in contention.

REVIEW: The Baroness & the Butler (1938)

2006-11-01T09:40:00.000-06:00

Johann Porok (William Powell) is the longtime butler to Hungarian Prime Minister Count Albert Sandor (Henry Stephenson). So it is with shock that Sandor and his family learn that Porok has been elected to the Parliament by social progressives, a party in opposition to the Prime Minister. Even more surprising is Porok's desire to continue to serve Count Sandor as butler when not performing parliamentary duties. This is definitely a premise that one has to just accept despite its improbability!

While the Prime Minister initially accepts Porok as both butler and delegate, his daughter Katrina (Annabella) is appalled. That her butler challenges her father on the floor of Parliament is unacceptable. That her butler shares some equality with her father in the halls of government is even more distressing. And here is where a film as light and charming as The Baroness & the Butler could become something more: there is legitimate fear in the breakdown of established social order. So although Katrina is spoiled and haughty, her anxiety is not misplaced.

Unfortunately, the film (an adaptation of a stage play) does not go to great lengths in exploration of a populist movement and its ramifications. Instead, The Baroness and the Butler retreats into romantic comedy (the province of director Walter Lang in the middle and late 1930s) . While certainly engaging, this shift dulls the impact of the Johann character, who is presented in a few early scenes as a Mr. Porok Goes to Budapest-type statesman. The unease of the upper-class as egalitarian change emerges remains conspicuous, but it recedes into the background.

Of note is the manner The Baroness and the Butler presents extramarital philandering. Baroness Katrina is a married woman who falls in love with another man. The film cheers this development as just and censors apparently agreed. Katrina's husband is portrayed as powerhungry but very effete. It is not difficult to read her spouse as impotent or homosexual or both (there was often no distinction between the two) and this is likely the primary reason no huge censor board fuss was made about the extramarital affair.

William Powell is very good in the title role, of course. It is no stretch to be sure, but the actor is entirely proficient and as believable as possible given a silly premise. It is tempting to detect melancholy or sadness in his performance, however. This is the film Powell began shooting soon after the death of his fiancee Jean Harlow and prior to his year-long break from films.

REVIEW: My Cousin Rachel (1952)

2006-10-18T15:04:00.000-05:00

In which de Havilland attempts to out-du Maurier her sister Joan.

My Cousin Rachel is Rebecca-lite. I mean that in terms of atmosphere and tone; the comment is not necessarily a harsh stab at the 1952 film as Rachel is more successful than not. Director Henry Koster tries to establish all the forebode and fog and suspense her can muster. It's all there in visual execution, but somehow that ambience remains too superficial. As the mystery of the title character deepens, the story obviously becomes more thrilling and intriguing. It is just a shame the pieces never quite connect into something with a strong, purposeful rhythm. The cinematography and aesthetic production remain excellent. So, claustrobia creeps in via the lens and camera angles suggest heightened fear. Perhaps editing with more precision could have worked with the visual approach to establish the tone better.

What is the mystery that deserves such ambience? My Cousin Rachel is very much an is she or isn't she film set against the backdrop of the Cornish coast in mid-Nineteenth century England. The Rachel (Olivia de Havilland) of the title is the wife of Ambrose, the adored (briefly seen) father figure to Philip (played as an adult by Richard Burton). Ambrose marries Rachel while spending several years in Italy for an ailment; he dies before he can return to England with his wife. Prior to his mysterious demise, however, he sends Philip a series of letters in which he insinuates that Rachel is trying to murder him. Are these letters the ravings of a mad man, consumed with disease? Or are they the truth?

Philip at first believes that Rachel has killed Ambrose and is relieved to find the departed has not included the wife in his will. Rachel arrives in England to pay a condolence visit to Philip and the young man immediately assumes she is trying to make a claim at Ambrose's inheritance. But he is soon taken in by Rachel and finds himself in love with the woman. The film proceeds with Philip alternately embracing and questioning the motives of Rachel; the audience is left guessing until the end about her true intentions.

Richard Burton is rather excellent as Philip, though he is a bit reckless an actor in some over-the-top moments. His torment, anger and love remain believable throughout. Olivia de Havilland is wonderful as well (duh) and trades nicely on the sweet, sincere performances that marked her earlier career prior to the mid-1940s. She keeps the character ever-so-slightly off-balance emotionally. Both actors go a long way to making the sometimes convoluted and sensational turns plausible.

The film is engaging even if it does not remain completely true to the original Daphne du Maurier story in the end. Something it its atmosphere and tone simply remains missing throughout, however. It is almost as if the filmmakers tried to hard to manufacture mystery rather than intuitively following the nuance of the source material.

REVIEW: Alibi (1929)

2005-12-07T14:49:00.000-06:00

The opening moments of Roland West's Alibi borrow touches from German Expressionism: a cavernous prison that is easily recognized as a soundstage, forced perspective, full shots of lonely figures engulfed in hollow spaces. West references the style throught Alibi. He injects unease into the narrative visually, as his often ambiguous characters operate within the mechanics of a caustic and corrupt urban world.

A noteworthy, nearly nine-minute interrogation scene is perhaps the highpoint of the film; it is certainly the pinnacle of direction and composition in Alibi. West stages questioning of a weak crook, aptly named Soft Malone (Elmer Ballard), in a manner that reveberates with horror. Two cops, sensible Detective Tommy Glennon (Pat O'Malley) and rough Sgt. Pete Manning (Purnell Pratt) circle around Malone within the world's emptiest and longest interrogation room. They retreat to the background and confer and West leaves Malone in the foreground, blurred. At points, Malone stares directly, ghostly into the camera's gaze. Manning and Glennon then threaten to kill Malone, as a shadowy profile looks into the room through an oblique window. The coppers are just as corrupt as the criminal, and the execution of the scene contributes to the anxiety this generates without without distorting it.

The sinister policemen seek to arrest a freshly released convict, Chick Williams (Chester Morris) for the murder of a cop. Williams has an alibi, save for ten minutes--the very minutes in which the officer was gunned down. The reliable, handsome Morris (nominated for an Academy Award for his performance) gives his character the congeniality and wit required during the first several acts of the film. He is believable as an effable man wrongly accused, but with shady friends. Morris gets to flex his acting chops more in the end moments of the film, as depictions of cops and gangsters start to flesh out and shift; he gets a very big, emotional scene that wallops, moreso for its affectedness than its effectiveness. Still, it remains a rounded, fun performance throughout, largely because Morris is able to reveal several sides of the Chick Williams persona with agility.

Alibi is a mystery above all, archaic but crafted so that the twists still work. It remains alarming in its depiction of good and bad, and in the fluidity it suggests for the groups associated with both. Moral ambiguity is the only certainty evident in the film. Though the story creaks a bit (the dialogue certainly does and the sound recording of some actors is lousy in this early "Talkie"), the production itself holds interest well and nicely propels both themes and narrative. Alibi is definitely an interesting early gangster film and a nice example of German Expressionism referenced in non-horror American cinema prior to film noir.

National Board of Review Predix

2005-12-06T12:58:00.000-06:00

The National Board of Review releases its annual kudos tomorrow, December 7. They are an ultra-shady group made ultra-likeable because they always draw the ire of one Roger Friedman can not be all bad. So, here are my predictions for the NBR... well, some of their badrillion awards. These predictions suck, but I do know that the Board likes to spread the wealth and runs kinda gay. Also, bodies of work within a year always seem to help.

Best Picture
Brokeback Mountain (alt. Munich)

Top Ten Films
Brokeback Mountain; Munich; Match Point; Pride & Prejudice; ; Good Night, and Good Luck; Memoirs of a Geisha; The New World; The Producers; Crash; Walk the Line

Best Actor
Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Capote (alt. Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain)

Best Actress
Felicity Huffman, Transamerica (alt. Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line)

Best Supporting Actor
Donald Sutherland, Pride & Prejudice (alt. George Clooney, Syriana)

Best Supporting Actress
Maria Bello, A History of Violence (alt. Gong Li, Memoirs of a Geisha)

Best Director
Rob Marshall, Memoirs of a Geisha (alt. George Clooney, Good Night, and Good Luck)

Breakthrough Actor
Terrence Howard, Hustle & Flow and Crash (alt. Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain)

Breakthrough Actress

REVIEW: Bluebeard's Eighth Wife (1938)

2005-12-06T12:31:00.001-06:00

Ernst Lubitsch's Bluebeard's Eighth Wife is deliciously brutal and almost cruel. The 1938 film is downright violent at points, raisin' a ruckus beyond that found in many screwball-type comedies. When the insanely wealthy American Michael Brandon (Gary Cooper) storms into the suite of his estranged French wife, Nicole (Claudette Colbert), he means to teach her a lesson. So, he slaps her. She slaps back just as hard. He then takes over his knee and spanks her rear. Fade.

Nicole is not a mere victim (though surely noone in cinema deserves to be slapped or spanked in the way Lubistch imagines and a feminist reading of Bluebeard's Eighth Wife would probably be violent itself). Nicole wears the pants in the troubled marriage to Brandon, a man on his eighth wife (to bluntly and humorously illustrate the point, screenwriters Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett concoct a very funny sequence that involves Brandon's purchase of pajama tops and Nicole's purchase of the pants). Nicole concocts the scheme that drives Bluebeard's Eighth Wife: she will not fall prey to Michael Brandon, he will fall prey to her, she will divorce him on her own terms.

All of Michael Brandon's former wives were wooed by the dashing, no-nonsense millionaire, only to be dropped for newer models. All the former wives then sued for alimony. Nicole decides to skip straight to the alimony by marrying Brandon and then refusing to consumate the union. The "delayed fuck" certainly aggravates her husband, and drives him crazy. Literally. Without giving up too much of the chaotic final act, a sanatorium is involved.

The sight of the Gary Cooper as an often-bumbling cad excellently subverts the inherent integrity of his screen persona, even if it is a stretch at times. Claudette Colbert, always strong and forceful, is even better as a Continental gal from the right family but with the wrong finances. The two have remarkable chemistry, too; this is revealed in the nastier scenes between the couple. At one point, Colbert's Nicole downs a fistful on green onions before kissing Cooper's Michael (who is has a strong dislike of onions, set up geniunely in a dining scene earlier). As crafted by Lubistch, the result is a tremendously funny scene.

But Bluebeard's Eighth Wiferemains quite mean-spirited, despite its undeniable comedy and the famous light touches of the director. It is a snarky, brutal film that largely succeeds because Lubistch does not approach the story as anything other than a charming love story built upon a series of exchanges. The result is a rather restrained slapstick, romantic comedy with teeth. This works, though, as the hostility is nicely counterbalanced with rather sincere direction and the zippy screenplay from Brackett and Wilder.

Breakfast at Frivolity's

2005-11-22T10:48:00.000-06:00

Neil Jordan's Breakfast on Pluto skirts comprehension with the same aplomb its central character avoids lucidity. No doubt the director seeks to echo the carefree spirit of Patrick Braden, a.k.a Kitten, the Irish foster child transvestite whose first few decades the film depicts. While the approach establishes consistency of unfocused narrative and tone, it lends no gravitas or importance. And when a thread of IRA terrorism runs through a story, something more substantial than an unsinkable and unflappable hero(ine?) is definitely needed.

Jordan does not allow time for character development, instead following Kitten on an episodic adventure driven by amusements. It is gruelingly situational and these little journeys usually amount to whimsical sketches. They are conneted only through chronology, not by coherency. The assorted supporting characters, many ostensibly important in the growth of Kitten's identity, are never fleshed out. They come and go as they please and establish nothing about themselves in the process. When fate befalls these characters and Kitten (barely) reacts, emotion does not transcend. Why should an audience care when a film and its characters remain so extenuating?

Because the film attempts to define her through relationships with underwritten characters, Kitten Braden nevers fleshes into anything more than a happy-go-lucky tranny. Sunshine superwoman even in tragedy. A complex identity sauntering through a complex world of unrest deserves more. Cillian Murphy, physically commanding in the role of Kitten, deserves more, too. He is invested in the character enough to understand the importance of nuance in an easily overdone role. Murphy simply has too little with which to work in Breakfast on Pluto. Nothing seems to explain, say, Kitten's paradoxical asexuality and her detachment is only illuminated briefly. Murphy is left to simply justify these attributes in his performance.

The idea of a nation divided by political factions represented in religious identities, inhabited by a man living as a woman but not at war with him/herself: there is much to explore in the character of Patrick Kitten Braden. Jordan wants his highheels and talking birds (yes, there are cutesy talking birds that bookend the film) to do the investigative work, to illuminate Kitten through sheer vibrancy. This creates a series of experiences entertaining in sections, but frivolous in the whole.