OldHatCinema

The most amazing thing about Charlie Chaplin's "The Kid" is that it was released in January of 1921. That makes this film 100 years old! A century has gone by since it was made, released, and first viewed, and yet it's still available to be appreciated anew today. The DVD print that I watched was in very good shape, the picture was great, and I felt that I was watching an important piece of cinema history.

However, "The Kid" is by no means one of my favorite Chaplin films. In fact, two out of my top three aren't even silent films, but prime examples of Chaplin's later work: "Monsieur Verdoux" (1947) and "Limelight" (1952). And my third favorite, the 1936 masterpiece "Modern Times", is only two-thirds silent!

The plot of the film is quite simple: our beloved Little Tramp finds another little tramp, and and raises the foundling as his own. Years pass, and together, they rise above their life of poverty through the power of love and comedy.

"Professionally funny" is a phrase that I thought a fitting description of Chaplin. He was an artistic genius, and he knew what he was doing and how to engage an audience. In fact, this was his first feature-length film, and he took a whopping five-and-a-half months to shoot it, which was an incredible amount of time for a film production in 1921. Chaplin, of course, not only starred, but wrote, directed, produced, and scored the film!

Jackie Coogan was fantastic as "the Kid", displaying a wide range of emotion and deftly tugging at the viewer's heartstrings. His father, Jack Coogan, Sr., coached his son during filming and was paid $125 a week by Chaplin, and also played several small parts within the movie.

It is said that Chaplin and Coogan were as close off-screen as on, and every Sunday during the first few weeks of filming, Chaplin would take the boy to the amusement park or other fun activities. This relationship was seen as either an attempt on Chaplin's part to reclaim his own unhappy childhood, or possibly he was just thinking about his own son whom he had lost, having died three days after birth.

"The Kid" features a truly bizarre dream sequence in which the Tramp falls asleep on his doorstep and dreams of everyone - including himself - as an angel or demon.

He envisions himself as an angel, with white, feathery wings spread out behind him, and a harp in his hand. Others, including a neighborhood bully, appear as demons, depicted traditionally in dark (presumably red) attire and horns atop their heads. Even a little dog, suspended on wires, comes floating by in a little angel costume!

It's one of the strangest and most inexplicable dream sequences I've seen in a film, and yet it is oddly captivating.

The technical aspects in this film - both in the dream sequence and in the rest of the movie - are marvelous when one considers that it was made a hundred years ago, when the movie medium itself was less than thirty years old.

Whether or not it is one of Chaplin's greatest works is up to the individual viewer, but you cannot deny that it is a landmark movie, and holds an important place in the history of American cinema. It deserves a look, maybe even more than one. As the opening title card reads, it's "a picture with a smile - and perhaps, a tear."

To summarize (which is quite a task, since this is a very detailed, comprehensive, and well-done biopic), Gary Cooper plays one of the greatest and most beloved heroes of the First World War: backwoods sharpshooter, Alvin C. York. Hailing from the Valley of the Three Forks of the Wolf, somewhere in the Tennessee hills, he spent his youth drinking, carousing, and causing mischief and mayhem in general. All that changes one stormy night when a lightning bolt strikes his rifle, instead of him, and he turns from his rowdy ways and becomes a fine, upstanding Christian. When America becomes involved in WWI, he requests to be exempted from the draft as a conscientious objector. But his appeal is rejected and into the army he goes. As he serves his country, his eyes are opened to the reasons behind the conflict, and to the fact that it isn't against God or the Bible to fight against evil. In a heroic act, he saves the lives of several men in his squadron and captures over 100 German prisoners.

There's so much fascinating trivia behind this film which is so much more than your average war picture. It's the story of a humble yet remarkable man's life, and a good reminder that, as Alvin observes, "the Lord sure do move in mysterious ways."

The real Alvin C. York was approached by producer Jesse Lasky several times, asking for permission to film the story of his life. York finally agreed on three conditions - first, that a share of the profits would go towards a Bible school York was trying to establish; second, that a non-smoking actress would play his wife Gracie; and third, that Gary Cooper play him!

At first, Cooper didn't even want the role. Even if he did he was under contract to Samuel Goldwyn, who had no intention of releasing him. After York spoke to Cooper personally the latter agreed to take the part. A bargain was struck when Goldwyn agreed to lend out Cooper in exchange for Warner Brothers lending him Bette Davis for his production of "The Little Foxes." Thus, everything worked out, everyone was happy, and two excellent films were made because of the exchange.

Not only were two great films made (both of which were nominated for Best Picture), but Gary Cooper won his first Oscar for Best Actor! In his acceptance speech he made the comment, "I've been in this business sixteen years and sometimes dreamed I might get one of these things." While films of this era were consistently clean and wholesome, and had a definite reverence for God, not as many could be called overtly "Christian." Sergeant York is one of the few movies that definitely fits this category. The pivotal faith aspect of Alvin York's story is handled well, mostly due to Cooper's sensitive and sincere performance. Walter Brennan was an honest, upstanding man in his own life, and plays the local pastor who counsels Alvin. Brennan claimed to be religious in his personal life as well. He brings enthusiasm and warmth to his role, and received his fourth nomination for Best Supporting Actor. However, the Oscar went to Donald Crisp for "How Green Was My Valley."

The scene in which York's rifle is struck by lightning, causing his conversion, was an invention of the screenwriters. In reality, the steps leading to York's conversion were longer and more drawn-out due to the efforts of his wife to help him clean up his act.

Ultimately, "Sergeant York" is a film that takes its time, with a running length of 2 hours and 14 minutes, but it's time well spent. The production fares well under the expert direction of the masterful Howard Hawks, who received his only Best Director nomination for it.

It also contains one of the most gorgeous camera shots I've ever seen. York stands tall and proud on a rocky outcrop, surveying the Tennessee countryside, with his hound dog by his side. It's shot in half-silhouette, and the imagery is both haunting and exhilarating.

After this recent Resurrection Sunday, when the focus is especially on faith and looking to a Savior, the following is an appropriate quote from the film with which to end this review.

"You see, I believe in the Bible and I'm a-believin' that this here life we're a-livin' is something the Lord done give us and we got to be a-livin' it the best we can..."

Alfred Hitchcock's second American picture, Foreign Correspondent (1940), has quite literally everything you could ask for in a great movie. To categorize it, one might say it's an espionage thriller. But really, that covers merely the basics of what the film is all about. It's got suspense, adventure, romance, humor, heroics, and a cast that couldn't be improved upon if you tried!

In contrast, Hitchcock's first American picture was the well-done, if somewhat plodding, Gothic thriller Rebecca. While Rebecca is still an excellent film in its own right, boasting the talents of Laurence Olivier, Joan Fontaine, and others, it isn't nearly as exciting or action-packed. Foreign Correspondent is the more important of Hitchcock's films, made at the start of WWII, and a clear call for American entry into the war at that time. Rebecca may have won the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1940, but Foreign Correspondent was the more deserving film.

It's 1939, and Europe is on the brink of war. An American reporter named Johnny Jones is sent to England as foreign correspondent for the New York paper he works for. He takes on the pseudonym Huntley Haverstock and is soon investigating the ostensible assassination of an important diplomat, uncovering a Nazi spy ring in the process.

Heading the cast are Joel McCrea and Laraine Day, two fine actors who are highly underrated today. The two of them maintain a good chemistry as the film progresses, and the supporting players are equally accomplished. George Sanders, that "dreadful man," plays a wisecracking freelancer named Scott ffolliott, and gives a remarkable performance. Robert Benchley, as McCrea's fellow foreign correspondent Stebbins, co-wrote the script, and is said to have written much of his own dialogue. There's also Edmund Gwenn, cast against type as an affable Cockney hit man, and he makes the most of his short, but nonetheless important, role.

And, in his second film with Hitchcock, we have Herbert Marshall, in a truly great performance. I'll have to leave it at that - because given half a chance, I could rattle on about the dear old chap for hours.

There are so many superbly crafted sequences in the movie, but I'll mention just a few here. There's the "umbrella scene," where McCrea chases an assassin through a crowd of bystanders, getting lost amid the dozens of umbrellas. The windmill sequence, in which McCrea and his sidekicks find themselves alone in an open field, windmills softly turning with the breeze ... or against the breeze, in the case of one such suspicious grinding mill, is marvelously shot. To add to the sense of urgency and danger, a single plane flies overhead. When McCrea sends Day and Sanders to fetch the police and enters the windmill himself, it's one of the tensest parts of the film. Thirdly, when two men masquerading as police officers arrive at McCrea's hotel room with malicious intent, he cleverly outwits them and escapes through the window, finding himself balanced precariously on a ledge far above the streets of London below ...and dressed in his bathrobe. He proceeds to accidentally short circuit two of the letters in the hotel's neon sign, reducing HOTEL EUROPE to HOT EUROPE, with a flourish that is purely Hitchcockian.

There's also one brief but precious scene which for the most part probably goes unnoticed by audiences. During the car chase where McCrea meets Sanders, the assassin's car rips around a corner, almost hitting a poor old man trying to cross the street. He steps back onto the curb just in time, and as he tries to cross again, our heroes go flying by, narrowly missing the man as well. As he tries to cross for a third time, a whole squad of policemen on motorcycles tear down the street, and the man, thwarted yet again, escapes back to the safety of the curb, turns around, and goes back inside his house. To the average viewer, it's just one fleeting moment in the midst of an exciting, high-speed chase, but to be frank, the sequence had me in stitches; a glorious example of comic relief.

After a rollicking adventure across the continent of Europe, approaching two full delightful hours for the viewer, Foreign Correspondent reaches its climax in the form of a plane crash into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean ... and one of the principal characters gives his life in a touching show of sacrifice.

So do yourself a favor, if, like me, you are a lover of great cinema, and enter this Hitchcockian world. Good triumphs over evil, witty banter abounds, romance blossoms, villains are heroes, and adventure awaits!