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Good Sam (1948)
Could have been better edited
Actually, this film was much better than I expected reading some reviews (not here but elsewhere). Cooper also gave a superb performance. I have no idea why his performance was criticized. However he looked amateurish in the drunken scene with William Frawley. He wasn't made for that kind of scene. Ann Sheridan as his wife almost played in a Hawksian style, similar to her role in "I Was a Male War Bride." The direction often reminded me of Haws. But McCarey was known for his improvisatory direction, which often annoyed actors like Cary Grant, but there was an easy-going style to so many scenes, such as with the car mechanic, though there too it could have used some editing.
The dialogue often sparkled with Wildean witticisms too. As for putting the film in a box, whether satire or straight drama, why not allow the film to breathe on its own terms as neither? Obviously Sam (Cooper) was committed to helping others with often farcical results. There. I've united both arguments. The attempt to simplistically reduce it to farce or satire is unnecessary.
However the film really fails in the final third when it becomes too repetitious and often skirts Capracorn. Not that I have anything against Capracorn if Capra does it. But the ending here with the Salvation Army and the deus ex machina change of heart of the bank manager just seems artificial. I also found the role of the brother superfluous in the film & poorly written. Did he have to be such a total idiot to find comedy in him?
Cut down some of the scenes (don't eliminate them entirely) and with a better ending this would have been a ten-star film. But what remains is a seemingly effortless dramatic comedy typical of McCarey's improvisational style of writing and directing, as in Lu's (Ann Sheridan) sustained giggles when Sam is unaware of the couple in their home. It was also interesting to see the beautiful Ruth Roman in a bit part before she had a major role in Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train (1951) a few years later, with her great line, "What do you mean, 'your murder,' Guy?"
The Proud Rebel (1958)
Insipid paraphrase of Shane
Anyone familiar with the classic film, Shane, will find in this film a mere paraphrase of it, with many identical conflicts, including town bullies who want a woman's land & a final confrontation with them.
I am well aware that most Westerns recycle those elements but with greater finesse. Thus there is usually a larger theme holding the elements together, such as Law & Order in Shane, Rio Bravo, the Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, etc. But there is no larger theme here. Just bullies (first of the rebel, then of his son, who is mute).
Alan Ladd looks significantly older than he did in Shane, while Ladd's real son plays his son in the film. He is serviceable but not the actor some critics claim.
The real gem is Olivia de Haviland who turns in another star performance as the woman who assists the "proud rebel" played by Ladd.
It seems to me that to build an entire film around town bullies is cheating, script-wise. Obviously there's always room for confrontation with a bully in a Western. But here the entire script relies on bullies to motivate most of the action.
Some plot elements are confusing. First the son's dysphonia is considered mental (psychogenic) but then an operation is required! Other scenes seem unrealistic. Is it possible that John Chandler (Ladd) can work on the house construction alone?
Like the film, Jerome Moross's.at times sounds like an embarrassing paraphrase of his memorable score for The Big Country, though later cues sound more original.
Three Coins in the Fountain (1954)
Glossy romantic genre conceals unexpected depths
Despite the inane travelogue at the beginning of the film and the superficial romantic genre to which it belongs, I was impressed by how the film delved into the complicated relationships of the six leading characters and found underlying depths in them, kind of like the proverbial sugar-coated pill. The cast was superb. I always thought that Dorothy McGuire was one of the most beautiful of all Hollywood stars, though she never fit into any simple category. Clifton Webb plays his usual caustic self. Maggie McNamara was under-rated in her career. She emerged in the same year as Audrey Hepburn & almost seemed like clones. Both were nominated yet Hepburn won the Oscar & her career was destined for greater stardom, while McNamara's ended tragically. But she's very fine in this film as she was in Preminger's The Moon Is Blue. The singer who sang the title song wasn't bad either. He should have been given a recording contract. Kudos too to Victor Young's score, both original and adapting the title song. The ending is one of the sweetest endings I know of, a bit of a "deus ex machina," but it works superbly.
From Here to Eternity (1953)
Hard to find anything wrong with this film
It's hard to find anything wrong with this film, directed by Fred Zinnemann and with an all-star cast featuring Burt Lancaster, Montgomery Clift, Deborah Kerr, Donna Reed, Frank Sinatra, and Ernest Borgnine.
The film superbly interweaves the private lives of several of the leading characters and it does so without sentimentality against the backdrop of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, indicated the day before by the daily calendar opposite Burt Lancaster as he talks on the telephone.
The love scene with Deborah Kerr is one of the most famous scenes in Hollywood history and was parodied in Billy Wilder's *The Seven Year Itch." The film also ranks among the very few films wit a downbeat ending. Offhand I cannot think of another film with such an ending, in the strict sense, since even tragedy (an actor drying) can be upbeat in the context of the film.
It's good to see the irresponsible Capt. Holmes, played by Philip Ober, get his comeuppance later as the UN ambassador killed in North by Northwest (1959).
The film however poses one of the greatest puzzles in films, at least to me, a music buff. Fred Karger, who apparently wrote the music for "From Here to Eternit," as recorded by Sinatra, did not receive any screen credit for the melody, used for the lovers played by Clift and Reed. That's a genuine puzzlement. I assume that Karger wrote the tune since his named is featured on the song credits but then why isn't he mentioned in the movie credits?
Letter to Loretta (1953)
I can't praise this series enough.
This must rank as one of the greatest series in television history. Really there is nothing quite like it so far as I know, since I am not the best TV addict in the world. But offhand I don't know of any other series where one person acts a different part every week and did so for at least 8 years and the parts covered an extraordinary wide range of characters and emotions as well as genres, a few morphing into sci-fi territory, and some in comedy, soap opera, Western, etc. It's true after she suffered exhaustion Young did not star in every show, but still what we have is a remarkable achievement.
As I said, though not the ideal TV addict, offhand I can't think of a similar achievement. Sitcoms are NOT the same thing. An actor such as Marjorie Lord or Jane Wyatt would perform weekly too but the character was the same and the scripts required little emotion. Compare that with Young's often powerful explorations of different characters.
It's odd that, to my knowledge, Young's achievement in the series is no sufficiently acknowledged. Young also deserves credit for her tactical switch from the cinema to the TV screen where, instead of waiting months for a decent movie script to turn up she was able to perform in a miniature movie every week. In terms of glamour, she immortalized her beauty in literally thousands of glamour close-ups and sometimes even extreme close-ups. How man such close-ups does the average star get in a lifetime in movies?
The shows themselves were incredibly well written, some bordering on what today we would call "feminist" themes, especially "Incident in India" where Young plays a Muslim woman who outsmarts all the met in the village, but also where she plays an Egyptian queen, Nefertiti, always looking absolutely gorgeous but superbly acting as well,
Kudos also the "Dear Midge" where Young showed she could do comedy with the best of them, as when she tries to use her eyes to seduce a man. In a few episodes she adopts a false nose and eyeglasses to make herself look unattractive.
To contextualize my praise, other series that I have admired are the Alfred Hitchcock Presents series, the Alfred Hitchcock Hour, the Twilight Zone, One Step Beyond, The Outer Limits to name similar anthology series. But those were not one-man shows like Young's was a one-woman's show.
Besides their aesthetic quality, the series also had an epiphanic moral at the end, where one of the characters realizes that they had something to learn.
Often this epiphany can be just a little too pat, but that's the only criticism I can make. In one episode with John Newland it's hard to believe that a Hollywood director would rip up his contract just to be with his wife, even someone as lovely as Loretta Young.
Eternally Yours (1939)
MIddling comedy merely stumbles along
It's difficult to find anything nice to say about this middling comedy starring Loretta Young and David Niven. I tried getting through it the first time but gave up after, without rhyme or reason, following a ridiculous "coup de foudre" as the French say, or love at first sight,("thunderbolt"), we find that Young and Niven are married, as if the writers were too lazy to explain how it could happen.
To make things worse, most of the film is built around hoary magic tricks that most people get tired of in high school. Why sit through a film watching them?
David Niven is always a delight to watch but, though I'm a Loretta Young fan and believe she had no equal in the 1930s and again in the 1950s (her TV show) here she looks awful in most of the film, especially at the end.
If there was a potentially sparkling comedy in this film it was in the rivalry between Niven and Broderick Crawford, cast in an unusual role. There was a genuine making of an "His Girl Friday* rivalry such as between Cary Grant and Ralph Bellamy in that film, but, unfortunately, the director missed the opportunity. Yet that's the only time when this film comes alive, often superbly.
Another problem with the film is the jaundiced moral values involved. I'm hardly a puritan but it seems unnecessarily cruel to marry someone on the rebound and then string him along until the former partner shows up again. It undermines whatever comedic intent the film had in writing such a relationship at all. If the Crawford character had cruelly blackmailed Young's character into the marriage it would have been different, and he we would have enjoyed him getting his comeuppance. But as it is we don't enjoy it at all.
As for the title song, it must be among the worst nominated songs in film history.
The Adventures of Tartu (1943)
Top notch spy drama
This is truly a superb film in all respects, including the twists and turns that one expects from such a film, and a sense that the production took the spy infiltration seriously, something that was sorely lacking in Carol Reed's *Night Train to Munich* which often verged on unintentional comedy by the ease with which it appears that one can infiltrate a foreign country at war simply by wearing a Nazi uniform. But I discussed this in my review of that film.
This film has everything that film lacked, including making the romance between the two lead characters (Robert Donat and Valerie Hobson) part of the plot. The romance between the main characters is simply part of the Hollywood genre, whether we like it or not, or whether the movie was made in Hollywood or not. It's the cement that holds the movie together. Imagine North by Northwest if Roger and Eve were not romantically involved but merely collaborating in doing their patriotic duty. The movie would lose much of its appeal.
There are so many good things about this film, including,of course, Donat's superb performance, and the performances of Hobson and Glynis Johns in a magnificent early role. Again, compare the scenes with Johns and the absence of such scenes in Reed's films. We really get a sense of the emotional ravages of war that is lacking in the more frivolous Reed film.
Valerie Hobson commanded the film throughout and certainly showed improvement since her days as the bride of Dr. Frankenstein in 1931. Her growing distrust of Stevenson (Tartu) greatly enriches the film, as in many of Hitchcock's spy films where the protagonist has to fight threats now from two sides.
The final explosion is simply the cream on the pudding and a superb way to end the film. The film is also well plotted with twists and turns almost from the beginning (the shoemaker is arrested, Tartu is discredited, then he's almost shot at the end, etc. Those are the rich elements of a good plot missing in Reed's film. I only missed "My Moonlight Madonna" (originally "Poeme") by the Czech composer Fibich during the love scene when the moon is mentioned. It would have fit in that scene perfectly.
If the film has a flaw it's the long opening scene where Stevenson says farewell to his mother. The scene was pointless and seems to have no relationship to the rest of the film.
Even worse it went on too long. Stylistically the film should have indicated its tongue-in-cheek style from the beginning. Imagine an opening scene in (North by Northwest where Roger Thornhill leaves his mother's house and tells her he'll be safe.
Night Train to Munich (1940)
Far-fetched plot confuses drama and comedy
I fear I may be in the minority here. But the whole plot seemed incredible to me and more suited to a comedy than a serious drama.
Are we really to believe that anyone can infiltrate the high command of Nazi Germany so easily? In any case, there is no attempt to at least prepare us for the transformation.
But the comedic elements of the plot become even more absurd at the end when two British travelers are somehow able to incapacitate or overpower trained Nazi soldiers without explanation. The comedic exchanges, between the two Brits. Played by Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne, which worked so well in HItchcock's *The Lady Vanishes* become tedious and contrived here, almost as if we were eating leftover spaghetti and pretending it was just cooked.
Also a problem to me was the overlong introduction of Nazi conquests, which seemed unnecessary in a dramatic film. Similarly perplexing is the confusion which country we are in at any time, since everyone talks the same. Obviously in an English-language film people have to speak English for the most part; but in other films there's an attempt to create special intonations for each country.
But what's especially problematic and takes the movie close to a comedy such as one starring the Marx Bros. Is the ease with which characters can simply wear different clothes and instantly they appear as natural German soldiers or commanders.
The final shootout also stretches credulity. How many shots did Dickie Randall (Rex Harrison) have in his gun. He seemed to fire numerous shots yet the only time that he ran out of bullets was when the plot required him to run out of bullets. How convenient.
Frankly I think Harrison was miscast in the part. This is a subjective opinion but he just didn't seem right for it. Perhaps it's due to his association primarily with light comedy.
On the other hand, it's always a delight to see Margaret Lockwood, one of the treasures, along with Vivien Leigh, of the early British cinema.
Paul Henreid, as the villain, unfortunately played his role rather well in the early part of the film but deteriorated into a dime-store villain at the end, almost resembling Bela Lugosi at times as he desperately tries to kill Randall escaping in the tramway boxcar.
Another odd problem in the film is that for some reason there is no attempt to build a romance, or at least a budding romance between the two leads. There is no sense, as in Hitchcock's film of a growing sense of trust, which is more than intellectual or factual, but emotional as well.
One good thing about the film. It does make one appreciate the greatness of a film like *The Lady Vanishes*, which we might otherwise take for granted.
Three Wise Girls (1931)
Superb, if unusual, slice of life film
This is a rare film without a plot of sorts, almost Chekhovian in style. It never pulls its punches and seen risks one tragic death.
I'm not quite sure if the ending was the best ending for this kind of film, but it could work either way. In one way it violates the Chekhovian tone of the whole, but on the other hand, the Hollywood cinema is predominantly a commercial art and most viewers would not wish to go home on a downbeat instead of on a feelgood ending.
The acting was superb throughout and, as I said, the film pulled no punches, showing the limited options that women had in those days.
A side note is an early role by Andy Devine, who superbly played the limited role of the chauffeur. It takes a good actor to be noticed in such a bit part, and Andy Devine pulls it off.
Platinum Blonde (1931)
Tedious, stilted "comedy" of sorts
This film started out so well I thought it would be an unrecognized masterpiece. The opening scene did not include a wasted shot.
But the film, at least to me, deteriorated rapidly with tedious scenes, poor editing (some of those scenes needed cutting long before they actually ended, including the tiresome way that Stew (Robert Williams) is encouraged by. Anne (Jean Harlow) to adopt to the rich lifestyle.
The dialogue, intended to be witty, was rather strained, at times almost sophomoric, such as the pun on the word "seat." But there are too many examples to give here. Nothing worked for me in the dialogue.
The incidents also fell flat. Once again one wonders whether the editor was asleep. Scenes, not even interesting in themselves, seemed to be three times longer than necessary.
The staging was also strained, in my view. With numerous repetitive bows presumably intended to be funny.
But what, to me at least, especially ruined the film was that the main character, played by Robert Williams, had no charisma. It could be simply that he did not live long enough to develop a star image. But I kept thinking how well someone like Clark Gable, Frederic March, or Spencer Tracy could have played that part. To me, Williams was not lovable, as Gable would have been.
Actually his character seemed offensive at times, punching people out for no good reason. Part of the reason, of course, is the way his character was written. It's hard for audiences to love a character like that, least of played by someone without personality, which (in my view) Williams lacked.
Regarding Jean Harlow, quite frankly I have never understood her cult status. She never appeared attractive to me at all. Loretta Young, on the other hand, to me at least, was one of the finest stars of that era and always exuded radiance. Frankly, the only time the movie came alive was in the scenes when Loretta Young was featured.
I read the reviews in Wikipedia and have no idea where critics found this an hilarious farce when all the humor seemed strained to me and sometimes just silly. Again there are too many of those scenes to mention, but when one reporter asked to be given a kick and Stew (Williams) complies, is one such example. The scene where numerous guests enter the mansion, one after another, is another. Frankly I don't think that Capra knew what kind of film he wanted to make, whether a social protest film, a farce, a comedy of manner (the absurd scenes with the servant), etc.
But if I were to sum up the main problem with the film it would be Robert Williams as Stew. A different actor might have pulled off the part. Moreover, an actor with enough clout could have changed the script as well, or improvised to his standards.
The Most Dangerous Game (1932)
A Film That Falls Between the Cracks
I almost hesitated to publish my review since it's so clearly in the minority. Yet history is replete of revisionist views of films and performances. Oscar-winning performances are later marginalized compared to those who were not nominated those years.
For my money the likes of John Wayne, James Stewart, Bernard Herrmann and others would have been nominated numerous times, along with Hitchcock. I saw *Rio Bravo* again and simply cannot understand how Dean Martin was not nominated in the supporting role. He was superb, especially cast against type so well.
Similarly, novels touted as masterpieces when first published are ignored by a later generation. Even Beethoven's Eroica Symphony came in second to a symphony that today is ignored.
But all of this is a prologue to my review. First, the film doesn't comfortably fit in any genre and fails to adequately represent a genre.
There's certainly more routine adventure, such as one may find in a Tarzan film, than horror. Also the love story is negligible.
The characters are not delineated. The opening is pedestrian and bears no relation to the island sequence. (Compare the opening of Dracula or Frankenstein.)
The dialogue is uninteresting if not trite, apart from the reference to the barbarism of hunting to survive compared to the "civilized" way of hunting for sport.
But even worse, there's no attempt to make the theme of hunting for sport into a tragic flaw in Joel McCrea's character, where (as it were) he receives his "comeuppance" (or Poetic Justice, as was brilliantly done in a Twilight Zone episode, "People Are Alike All Over").
The film simply did not hold my attention on any level. Additionally, the evil character, Count Zaroff, did not have traits of true evil rather than being a mere villain. Obviously the film needed someone like Bela or Boris to add monstrous depth to it.
The only detail in the film that I found interesting was the way that Zaroff constantly touched the scar on his face, especially after thinking that he has killed McCrea. Clearly the scar represents a castration of his virility and thus hunting humans (specifically men) compensated for it.
Compare this film with the one that followed it *King Kong* where all the issues are thematically developed and the horror is specific, while even the scenes leading up to the discovery of the gorilla have meaning in relation to it. One might almost say that this film is a first and rough draft of the themes realized in the Kong, with far more memorable imagery.
Even Max Steiner's scores for the respective films can serve as a yardstick, where the later score (in *King Kong*) is now considered a classic of movie scoring while the former has not received a similar homage. There is, however, one aspect of the score that I found curious. In a few cues I hear the notes of the popular "All in the Game" ("Many a tear has to fall, and it's all in the game"). One can't help wondering if the composer of the song adopted the notes of that song from the film, especially since they both have to do with the theme of a "game." But this is a wild surmise merely.
I also saw no point in colorizing a horror film. It doesn't make sense. It destroys the mood of black-and-white, more suited to horror. Although I'm against colorizing films in principle, at least I can see where it makes commercial sense to colorize a Carole Lombard comedy, but why colorize a horror film?
The Bishop's Wife (1947)
Tepid Christmas film, miscast
Once again I feel in a minority here. First, the move is weak on drama. It is relatively static throughout. There is no real conflict of characters.
Second, David Niven's bishop is simply unlikeable. He's a Bishop, presumably a man of God, yet he seem to have no affection for anyone. Often he appears as a boor.
His relationship to the miscast angel (Cary Grant) is unbelievable throughout as is his incredulity. For Heaven's sake (no pun intended) he sees the angel enter a room without using the door and leaving without using the door, yet even at the very end of the film he treats him like an ordinary man and asks him to duke it out, prompting the angel's ridiculous line that he can use lighting against him.
It's a CHRISTMAS movie without any JOY in it, at least in my view. It's tepid throughout, with smart aleck remarks by the angel throughout and silly moments when we are to be impressed by elementary magic (files being categorized, a typewriter typing itself, etc.).
Were audiences in 1947 really expected to be impressed by an angel's instantly dressing a Christmas tree? Those scenes may have worked in a more mundane movie, but not in a movie aiming for spiritual stature. (Capra didn't need them in *It's a Wonderful Life* but then Koster was no Capra.)
Also disappointing was the miscasting of Loretta Young. I believe Jane Wyman was the original choice for the role and she would have been more effective in the recessive role that Young was allowed. But casting Young in a film without exploiting her radiance is kind of like casting a heavyweight fighter to be a mail clerk in a film.
The only time that the film achieves true drama is when the angel suggests he's falling in love with the Bishop's wife (Young). Now THAT IS DRAMA. The entire film should have been constructed around that tension throughout. Instead Grant pretty much smirks his way throughout his scenes. Thank God (no pun intended) he later redeemed himself as Roger 0. Thornhill (and, of course, in numerous other films).
For a good Christmas movie I'd recommend the aforementioned Capra, the Scrooge movies (especially the Sim version), *Miracle on 34th Street* or even the Rudolph the Reindeer cartoon with songs by Johnny Marks.
12 Angry Men (1957)
Good dramaturgy but poor jurisprudence
I know I'm placing myself in a majority here, but the major flaw of the film, though it works dramaturgically, is it confuses a REASONABLE doubt with ANY doubt.
I suspect that even a freshman law student might expose the difference. Realistically speaking, if one confused reasonable doubt with any doubt, no one would ever be convicted. That may be why are streets are no longer safe.
Although a preponderance of evidence is only valid in a civil trial, still when the evidence preponderantly points to a defendant's guilt, without reasonable doubt, a jury is bound to convict the person.
The issues raised in the film are silly. Moreover, each issue may raise reasonable doubt by itself, but it's impossible to believe that any carefully instructed jury would acquit a person based on all the evidence against the accused in his case.
He threatened to kill. He couldn't remember the films he saw? Is it "reasonable" to believe that the reader would not remember the film(s) he saw the same night or even weeks later?
What are the chances that the knife used could have been used by someone else? We can doubt anything, but that's not "reasonable" doubt.
However the dramaturgical plotting of the story so that dialogue used one way appears another way, such as the juror played by Cobb saying "I'll kill you" when he didn't mean that he would literally kill, and similar dialogue doubles like that.
The staging of the film was also effective, as was the acting throughout, though Lee J. Cobb must be an acquired taste. I reminds me of James Agee's description of Elizabeth Taylor having three degrees of hysteria (though I'm not sure of the exact quote now). Cobb has three degrees of anger and it wears off after a while. It's also unfortunate that he may have had a facial problem fixing a permanent scowl on his face. Sir Laurence (or Lord) Olivier pointed out that one has to control the intensity of speech in the first acts of Othello so as not to wear the audience out in the later acts. Thus there must be a controlled use of intensity to make the later scenes effective. An actor screaming his lungs out throughout a performance is not effective acting in my view.
Other moments to be are also problematic. Is it possible that another juror would threaten to lay a juror (in this case, the juror played by Cobb) out ("I'll lay you out"). Again, it makes good drama but not a realistic jury scene.
Also the scene where Cobb picks up the switchblade and seems on the verge of knifing juror Fonda stretches credulity. What juror is going to use a real switchblade when any pointed object, such as a pen, would do?
When the deliberations begin the first juror has no other reason for conviction than that he thinks the defendant is guilty. Is a juror really going to say nothing but that he just seems guilty? However, it makes good dramaturgy since it allows an exposition of the issues in the case. But it's hardly realistic drama.
The real drama is not about the trial. It's about the trial of each juror's backgrounds and how it affects his jurisdiction of the case (based on a ghetto upbringing in one juror's case, a liberal ideology in Fonda's case, a father betrayed by a son, in Cobb's case, a racist background in another juror's case, etc. This is effective dramaturgy, as these cultural prejudices are gradually revealed, but, in my view, not effective or realistic example of jury deliberations. Similar is the constant reference to being on time for a ballgame! Seriously, what juror is going to refer to a ballgame. Again, it's POSSIBLE. But as Aristotle wrote, in drama the principle is what is PROBABLE, not what is POSSIBLE.
Private Number (1936)
Flawed dramaturgy
This would have been a far better film if the motivation and characterizations in some cases were not so melodramatic. Basil Rathbone's character seems straight of strained melodrama or a Charles Dickens novel or maybe Jane Eyre where a character like that would have been more credible.
On the other hand, dissuaded by the reference to the film as trash in some reviews I ignored this film for quite a while. But apart from its flawed dramaturgy in some ways (its strained melodrama and its equally flawed characterizations) it's superbly plotted with more twists than one would expect for the price of a movie. It really picks up in the second half.
Certainly the scene where Robert Taylor, with a single punch, knocks out Basil Rathbone in a superb "he had it coming" moment, is in itself worth a view of the film.
But any film with Loretta Young is worth seeing. For some reason, Young, as it were, has fallen in between the cracks. Maybe because she doesn't fit easily into a single category, such as Katherine Hepburn, Liz Taylor, Monroe, Ava Gardner, Jane Powell, etc. Her roles covered a wide range from the bad girl in an early Cary Grant film, where she basically played a prostitute (though the role was disguised in the film) to the later more dignified roles and especially in her transition as the First Lady of Television in her TV series.
As for Taylor, I can't say much for him since I've never been a fan and to his day he seems nondescript as an actor, usually best featured as a "placeholder" of an escort or inamorato to a beautiful woman (as in Camille with Garbo). But this is only my personal view of Taylor.
Based on the superbly crafted twists and turns of the final third of the film, I would have given this film a higher rating. But otherwise even with a 7 I strongly recommend ignoring its melodramatic dramaturgical elements in the first half until the better part comes.
I suppose I have to say this review contains "spoilers" based on the punch that Rathbone's character receives.
Bullets Over Broadway (1994)
Strained farce was dated when it was made
I have no idea how this film developed the reputation it has. It has all the depth of a skit in a TV show. When a writer/director has to repeatedly resort to a glutton sticking food into his pockets, something that would be funny on the old Jack Benny program, one knows that the writer/director is running on empty.
The characters are absurdly one-dimensional, which is not to say that Dianne Wiest is not a delight to watch anyway. But her "don't speak" was as funny as stuffing food into one's pockets. The same goes for all the other characters, barely escaping their one-trick pedigree. The ditzy girl (here as gangster moll) was much better done in *Singing in the Rain*, Is rehearsing a "ha-ha!" laugh really supposed to be hysterical?
To be fair, the co-writing credit suggests that Woody Allen made a lot of compromises and most of the ideas n the film were not really his. They might have seemed his in his very early *Sleeper* period but not in his later period.
To me, nothing works in this film, The trope of having the gangster become a dramaturge seems strained. Many scenes, especially in the early part of the film, seem extremely mannered and stagey, like the actors were acting for the camera, rather than being themselves.
Quite frankly, I stopped liking the film in the very first scenes and it never really got better, only worse, after that. It seemed like Allen or his co-writer took all the clichés and cardboard characters and merely recycled them for make a comedy. But as Mark Twain wrote, it's difference of opinion that makes horse races.
Une parisienne (1957)
Lame comedy saved by Bardot
This is a totally lame comedy that goes flat right at the beginning. Without any attempt to create characters we are to believe that the sultry Bardot is irresistibly obsessed with a womanizing character named Michel, who isn't even cast properly. One wonders why any young woman would be attracted to this person.
But where's the motivation? There is none. The film begins on the absurd premise that for some reason the sultry Bardot, who could probably have seduced any male between puberty and senescence, must have this guy.
The other characters are similarly miscast, most of them, presumably lovers, looking more past their prime than in their prime.
Yet a film such as this requires credibility. One could imagine a Bardot fixated on, say, Louis Jourdan.
The rest of the film is similarly sloppily plotted. For no apparent reason (at least no credible reason) the father insists that Bardot marry Michel. Also for no apparent reason Bardot, who at the beginning was obsessed with Michel, now doesn't want to consummate the relationship on the absurd premise that the father forced Michel to marry her!
With the same "astute" plotting, Bardot suddenly decides to commit adultery with the first person who enters the room, who turns out to be the French prince played by Charles Boyer.
Quite simply, Bardot saves the film. It's amazing what a perfect erotic presence she was in her prime. I refer here not even to her body which is rarely and only briefly exposed. It's her pouty face that steals the show. For good reason she is the last face we see at the end of the film, winking at the audience. I can't imagine why else someone would wish to see this film.
But it does make one admire Hollywood scriptwriters more. They would never allow a film to begin unmotivated in the way this film does, even when the motivation, as in a musical, is far more cursorily motivated, as when Fred Astaire is instantly mesmerized by Ginger Rogers in one musical and attempts to track her down.
The I Don't Care Girl (1953)
Superb entertainment with a dazzling performance by Mitzi Gaynor
First things first. I am always puzzled by extra-cinematic considerations when critics (amateurs or professionals) discuss a film. Yeas ago I recall a review of A Man for All Seasons focused primarily on how evil Sir Thomas More was compared to the morally idealized image of him in the film.
As the Hollywood producer famously said, "If I want to send messages I'll use Western Union." If I want to learn about Sir Thomas More I'll read an historical biography of him.
I didn't go to see this film to learn about Eva Tanguay, apart of course from bare outlines. I WOULD have been disappointed if Tanguay was dramatized as a scientist working alongside of Madame Curie. But I'm content with the bare (no pun intended) outlines.
This film is perfect entertainment, though it ends on an incongruous note with the anticlimactic. New Orleans dance number, by far the worst in the film. The choreography and set design don't even make sense for a blues sequence in New Orleans.
Criticism of the frame story is misguided in my view. It's not to be taken seriously or coherently. The main purpose was to show precisely how biographical details can never be accurate, a technique, of course, made famous in a more serious vein in Citizen Kane.
The acting, especially by. David Wayne as Eddie McCoy. Is superb throughout, at least by musical standards, though Oscar Levant looks like he's mostly reading his lines.
But the standout, of course, is the energetic and ebullient Mitzi Gaynor in one of her finest roles, far more memorable than her later pedestrian role in the film version of South Pacific. Apart from the final dance number, all of her numbers are great, but especially the second *I Don't Care* sequence, with Jack Cole's famous multi-leveled choreography. But even David Wayne hat at least one good number.
The Nanny (1965)
Very good modern horror movie
This is a very good horror movie that could have been better. First, the ending is revealed too soon. Virtually midway through the film we begin to believe the boy when we should have been in doubt until much closer to the end of the film.
Also it seems that the role of the nanny, played by Bette Davis, was poorly characterized. If, as it turns out (spoiler) she was really psychotic, then she should have seemed ORDINARY, not eccentric the way she played the part and was made up to be. The way she played the part would have been more interesting if it was the boy who turned out to be the killer. But in nay case, too early in the film we begin to believe the boy's version of events and the film loses the interest it had in the earlier part.
Still it's a good horror film in the style of Psycho, taking an ordinary house and finding macabre events in it.
Especially commendable is the sophisticated psychological explanation of the nanny's psychosis. But even then the film could have staged the critical flashback scenes more effectively (such as drawing the bath not knowing that the little girl was in the tub).
Despite the fact that it was Davis's film all the way, the little boy performed admirably, as did Wendy Craig as the boy's mother.
Love in the Afternoon (1957)
Good movie with too many problems
This is really a good movie that could easily have been a great movie. The obvious problem, as most critics concur is that Gary Cooper is far too old for the part.
But age is not the only problem with Cooper. He probably would not have been right for the part even when younger. It's not really his type of role.
Obviously Cary Grant would have been ideal for a part like this, especially at the height of his romantic fame in the 1950s. Why Grant never accepted a Wilder film, as Wilder himself claimed, is a mystery.
Another actor that would have been good in the part would have been Gregory Peck. Indeed, in many ways Wilder's film is another version of Hepburn's Oscar-winning performance in Roman Holiday with Peck, also pretending to be someone she isn't.
But this film has other problems. The characteris poorly defined for one. There is no logical reason why a young woman in the prime of her youth should worry too much over an older man.
It is motivated somewhat by her seclusion with her father but also by the nerdy boyfriend. One can see where a sophisticated older man would appeal to her But that's not enough motivation for the degree of obsession that Ariane (Hepburn) shows in the film.
There are yet other problems with this near miss of a great movie. It's essentially a one-trick pony. Apart from the very interesting opening sequence with a jilted husband played by. John McGiver in his second film role (Wikipedia says his first "feature" film role) the film becomes tedious after a while with little plot except the clandestine afternoon meetings and tedious dialogue between Ariane and the man of her dreams, Gary Cooper.
Dialogue that might be entertaining if limited to a few minutes, or even just 2 minutes, ends up being tediosu when most of the film is taken up by it in the latter half. I literally couldn't believe that Wilder thought that Ariane inventing all her lovers would be entertainment, especially when repeated in the following Cooper sequence where he interminably listens to the Dictaphone recording by Ariane.
Around the tie the film becomes essentially a two-character play with trite exchanges between the two lovers. Similarly the scene with the musicians becomes tedious after numerous repetitions.
Incongruously, Ariane never addresses the Cooper character by his first name but always as Mr. Flannagan, which seems unrealistic after so many meetings.
If the film had been plotted as in the first sequence with John McGiver it would have been a masterpiece, while keeping the main device of love in the afternoon. The film was sorely in need of subplots.
I was not impressed by the final sequence either. If plotted differently it might have made an impact. But first, it went on far too long. As with the Dictaphone sequences I wondered how long Ariane would keep chasing the train. But in terms of characters, does anyone seriously think that a relationship such as that would last until Flannagan's next tryst or his terminal cancer diagnosis? Here again one needed a sophisticated lover, but one only a decade or so older than Ariane to make the ending meaningful.
As is well known, the movie popularized the famous song from 1905, "Fascination," which resulted in several chart hits, though the song was famous before then, just not currently popular.
But there's one thing about this film that I saved for last because it is BY FAR the best thing about it. Audrey Hepburn is positively ravishing and proves that without doubt she was the quintessential star and actor of the 1950s. I don't think any female actor came even close.
Her performance in this film is both radiant and stunning throughout. The film holds one's interest mainly based on her performance, which is really virtually a one-woman show, once the opening sequence with McGiver is over.
The Heartbreak Kid (1972)
Comic skits in search of characters and a plot, still entertaining
This is not a movie at all. It's a series of skits, some of them entertaining, some of them less so. But this is no movie in the conventional sense.
Perhaps it's unfair knowing of Elaine May's work with Mike Nichols. But clearly there are no rounded characters or even motivated characters here, nor is there a credible plot.
By far the star of the show was Jeannie Berlin, who is worth a view of the film, though there's a gigantic letdown when she disappears entirely. I'm not sure if that's a Spoiler or not.
It figured that Jeannie Berlin is actually the director, Elaine May's daughter, since she had the role down pat, probably the same type of role her mother played in her skits with Mike Nichols.
Berlin was enjoyable to watch throughout while Cybill Shepherd, as Kelly, played the opposite role of the WASP lover interest fairly well, considering she didn't have much to do except look like the ethnic opposite of Berlin. She can get more mileage out of biting into a cracker than some stars can get emoting. But I give credit to May as director.
Probably the centerpiece of the film is when the married protagonist, Lennie, played by Charles Grodin, attempts to convince Kelly's father that though he's on his honeymoon he's willing to divorce his wife to marry Kelly. Albert doesn't have much to do and it's a typical example of nominating an actor not for his acting but for the role he played. Berlin, on the other hand, deserved her nomination.
Some scenes are actually quite terrible, such as the scene about the piece of cake in the restaurant, which would be terrible on TV show, much less in a movie. It's entirely pointless and is not even funny. It's just one of several "skits" in the movie that are there just to make feature-length movie.
The same goes for the scene where Lennie pretends to be narcs cop to scare Kelly's boys away. The scene is ridiculous and is there, like Buck Henry's scene in The Graduate, because neither the director nor the scriptwriter (the prestigious Neil Simon) could tell the difference between a movie nd comedy sketches. Then we are supposed to find humor at the end when we see them at Lennie's wedding.
So little command did either Simon or May have over their material that they couldn't motivate why Kelly would suddenly leave her (presumably) boyfriend or why the father, played by Albert, clearly intransigent against Lennie, suddenly allow the wedding.
A fatal flaw in the comedy is that we (or at least I would think most rational viewers) would hardly root for the protagonist. The guy is clearl8y a sociopath so how could anyone root for him, or his ability to control others?
So much in the film seem more like fillers than like well-constructed comedy sequences; which is odd considering that Neil Simon, a master, wrote the script, if not the source material. One feels his heart and soul was not in the film. The opening scenes, including up to the drawn-out Jewish wedding seemed filler to me, as did the final Christian wedding. So did the night scene between Shepherd and Grodin.
The film is carried mainly by the scenes with Berlin and later the one-shot centerpiece of Lennie trying to convince Kelly's father that he plans to divorce his wife after a few days of marriage. Although Albert doesn't do much, May directed him beautifully.
I would recommend this film regardless, since, despite its limits, what remains is still entertaining. One wonders how a sociopath can get out of the jam he's in. But this is not a film, really. It's A series of comedy sketches in search of a plot and characters.
A Thousand Clowns (1965)
Mind-numbing film
I know I am in the minority here, but this film would easily make it on my worst movies of all time list. Nothing jells here, to use a word that Martin Balsam used in Psycho.
I suspect we are supposed to love this man, played by Jason Robards, as a free-spirited iconoclast. But there's a difference between iconoclasm and emotional immaturity if not gaslighting.
Actually the word "gaslighting" came to mind throughout this film, which I had to literally force myself to finish. Oddly enough it never got better but got even worse as it went along in the final 20 minutes or so.
There is not a single character here that I could sympathize with. William Daniels as the Social Worker came close to turning this into a serious critique of a narcissistic disorder in his final words before he leaves the film, but before that his character never rings true and seems more suited to sitcom than to cinema.
The role of Barbara Harris is another character who might have turned this film around, exposing the narcissistic disorder of the main character played by Robards. But even she ends up as one more member of the asylum.
The film is truly inexplicable. One must understand that I have been iconoclastic since my teen years; thus if anyone would appreciate a film and character such as this it would be I. But there's a difference between independence and a free spirit and a gaslighting narcissist. I suspect Robards' character would be diagnosed as having a narcissistic or depressive disorder, but the other characters are nearly as absurd, including the child, one of the most annoying children I've ever seen in a film, making the Bad Seed seem more redeemable.
Are we really supposed to applaud people like the characters in this film? The film itself seems the product of a freshman class in film editing. I suspect the editing is intended to express the free-spirited style of the character; instead it reflects what is wrong with the character, lacking any coherence or point. One can say the same thing about the underscore, a mishmash of Sousa marches and a ridiculous rendition of "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby."
How this film could have been nominated as Best Picture is beyond me. But it was released in the Age of the Counter-Culture and I suspect that many embraced it on those terms, as a celebration of the era. I'll take Thoreau any day of the week over the narcissist in this film. Assuming a real-life identity to the character, I pity the woman who marries a man like that.
Jason Robards himself was annoying in the film, expressing the gaslighting or latent aggression of the character when, if he had played the part in a more tentative and inhibited way, it might have come off better.
Barbara Harris was wasted in the film while Martin Balsam did nothing. He obvious won his Oscar for his other roles and for his long career as a supporting actor. He himself I think said somewhere that he probably won as a consolation for his loss in Breakfast at Tiffany's, but it could also be for his superb role s the detective Arbogast in Psycho.
In sum, I don't think I know of a character I dislike more in all the films I have seen than the character played by Robards here. In comparison , Joe Pesci's character in Goodfellas comes off as sane.
The Boys from Brazil (1978)
Pointless disappointment
I don't think I've ever seen a more pointless movie than this. Yet, due to the performance of Laurence Olivier and the transformation (not necessarily the performance) of Gregory Peck, the film held me to the end.
I suppose I waited to see the point of it. I suspect the main point was to see one of history's most evil men mauled to death. I'm serious too. I think many viewers took satisfaction in a vicarious film death, since he had escaped ordinary retribution.
I never thought that Gregory Peck was a great actor rather than a performer. He has an annoying characteristic, which I find in lazy actors, of acting with his lips. I was not impressed with his performance in To Kill a Mockingbird, where he seemed wooden and predictable throughout. Here he does have some very good moments and some bad ones. But his transformation was remarkable and it took courage to take the part. However his version of a German, speaking in a staccato voice throughout, was not convincing.
The final extended scene of the fight between Peck and Olivier and then the long unnecessary coda of the mauling of Peck and the lingering of the boy as Olivier asks for help has got to rank among the most absurd endings in film (though there's another scene afterwards). As I said, it's impossible to find any meaning in that long ludicrous sequence except the vicarious pleasure in one of history's most evil men being mauled.
One final point about editing. The entire opening sequence was absolutely pointless. Since unless the viewer knows what is happening it's as good as not showing anything. A scene like that (and it's a fairly long sequence) would work in the middle of a film but not at the very beginning.
What's the point if the viewer doesn't know what to look for, which characters are minatory, which are good, who are the victims, etc. In classical rhetoric this is called cataphora. It works in a newscast if done briefly, such as, "A man won a million dollars by closing his eyes and choosing 8 numbers. John Smith, of Aspen Place, said he chose 8 numbers. ...." etc. But a cataphora can only work briefly. If it goes on too long it's just confusing.
Oh, God! (1977)
Lukewarm comedy never settles into a genre
I was disappointed in this film, though I may be in the minority (the film was a commercial and critical success).
First the script rarely sparkles. The lines are not that funny. And, after all, God must have had a great sense of humor creating the human species.
The best line in the film in my opinion is when John Denver says he doesn't belong to any church. Burns replies, "Neither do I."
There are a few other good lines, but nothing memorable. In a subject like this, it's inspired lines that drive the comedy.
It was really John Denver who was the standout here. He should at least have received a nomination for the film. I was really impressed by the nuanced performance he gave.
Again in the minority, I thought George Burns was ridiculously miscast n the film and to little purpose. Somehow I think Jack Benny (originally cast before his death) could have pulled off a comedy like this. But George Burns just doesn't work for me. Frankly TV shows casting the Devil have done far better and shown more imagination.
As for acting, Burns wasn't acting. He was talking. But if you're George Burns and lasted as long as he did, he was nominated, and then won, Best Supporting Actor. (For some reason, Wikipedia doesn't mention his Oscar in its entry for the film, though, as of today, it does refer to his other award, but not an Oscar.)
It's a cleverly cast actor who could have carried a film like this. Burns in my view wasn't it. Someone of the stature, and yet comic nuance, of Orson Welles, could have done a superb job. But then Carl Reiner was raised on TV comedy, which is really what this is.
The writing never rose above the pedestrian level and I don't think either Reiner or the script writer, Larry Gelbart could settle on a genre for the film. It meanders along, sometimes comedy, sometimes drama. Midway through and yawning one realizes what a genius Frank Capra was being able to blend comedy and dram impeccably in a way that this film couldn't.
The film also needed a good editor. The scene in the elevator at the beginning was unnecessary at that length. But especially flawed was the apparent parody of Billy Graham or at least another televangelist. I thought the sequence with Sorvino pointless and maybe even cruel and hypocritical. On the one hand the movie pretends to be a comedy but on the other hand it sneaks in a comment against televangelism with ridicule. I certainly am NOT defending televangelism. But don't sneak it in a comedy that is presumably not taking sides. That is to me what is cruel about it.
One of weaknesses of the film is its lackluster score. I haver never heard a weaker score, unless it's John Carpenter's score to Assault on Precinct 13. A good lively and tuneful score, with themes for God and Denver would have greatly enhanced the movie. A composer such as Elmer Bernstein could have composed a witty theme, suitably pompous, for God.
The first meeting with God could also have been improved in my option. Surely an art director could have shown more imagination than an all-white interior!
In sum, the movie basically plods along at a pedestrian pace and never really sparkles, as some of Jim Carrey's supernatural films do. In terms of plotting, a Capra could have motivated news interest in the story. But there's no plausible motivation for why the news media would pick up a story like this. A Capra would have motivated a reporter to exploit Denver's character to add ratings But presumably the media in the film had nothing better to do than to feature an ordinary guy who claimed he talked to God without any proof whatsoever.
The Notorious Landlady (1962)
Great premise quickly ruined
This film began with such great promise. I have never been a fan of Kim Novak, but she looks ravishing in this film. As for Jack Lemmon, his obvious mannerisms can quickly irritate a viewer. It also ruins the plot, since it's hard to believe that a character in diplomatic employ would speak so disrespectfully to his superiors (in this case, Fred Astaire, who doesn't dance). Jack Lemmon WOULD speak that way. But not the character he's supposed to play.
I also find far-fetched the silly romantic fixation that a seasoned diplomat would have for a woman he has met only in a minute or so. That in itself turned me off from the film. I can imagine a love relationship developing over days or weeks, but over minutes? That's not love. That's mental illness.
But the film begins promisingly enough with hermeeutic puzzles, such as Roland Barthes describes in a book called S/z, in which he describes several codes by which we understand narratives, including the culture code, the hermeneutic code, etc. We follow a plot based on the mystery of the plot.
This film began with great mystery that the viewer hopes will develop in unexpected ways, esp. Since the black and white photography and the art design are so ravishing.
Instead, about a third of the way through the film begins to unravel. The Astaire character unbelievably falls for Novak's character (though not as a lover) and it turns out that the "notorious landlady" is, instead, quite lovable, so what's the point of the movie?
Then the film really collapses with inexplicable courtroom scenes that make no sense, ludicrous revelations about a murder and an abusive relationship with an ex-husband, and finally (as if all this is not bad enough) one of the worst strained example of farce in cinema. Somehow one is supposed to be laughing in the aisles over a carriage rolling down hills and an elderly lady saying "Whee!" and Kim Novak throwing wild punches at an opponent, etc. I'll take Jack Lemmon's line from "Some Like It Hot" as a substitute, a line that never fails to crack me up, commenting on Tony Curtis's imitation of Cary Grant: "Nobody talks like that!"
The Romantic Age (1949)
Great subtly directed film with audacious plot for its time
I found this film enthralling from the first, although ruined by Mai Zetterling's affected staccato French accent. It doesn't matter if she spoke French (many Swedish stars are polylingual) it was still an affected accent that I found annoying and unnecessary.
Also Arlette's character could have been more subtly drawn. Today it might almost be viewed as stereotyping French women!
Hugh Williams, on the other hand, gave a superbly underplayed performance. I especially appreciated the low-key manner in which the plot was developed, unlike the brash hyper-realism of, say, The Blue Angel. This is, in fact, the way people behave in real life.
A young Petula Clark seemed unrecognizable, though I kept thinking of classical pianist Glenn Gould throughout, since he seemed to think rather highly of her her and thought her music better than The Beatles.
I did find the ending rather grotesque, with the manservant spanking Arlette., especially since he himself was grotesque. If a spanking scene had to be included, it should have been the wife of the professor who spanked her, as she had threatened to do earlier in the film.
As a side note, as I'm sure everyone knows, the piano piece by Charles Williams (who also wrote the popular "Dream of Olwen" from another movie, later became even more popular as Theme from The Apartment, the Billy Wilder film.
There is one curiosity in the film that deserves mention. I was surprised to hear the word "Hell" spoken, I believe twice, in the film. One would hve thought that such word would have not been permitted in that era. Even as late as Kazan's "On the Waterfront* the sound of a motor horn drowns out the word "Hell" when Rod Steiger in the famous automobile scene says, "What the (sound of horn)!"