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Showing posts with label Richard Arlen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard Arlen. Show all posts

Sunday, November 12, 2017

William Wellman - Part 1: Four early films

William Wellman and friend (IMDb)
My love for the Harvard Film Archive* just gets stronger and stronger. Exhibit A: Their current William Wellman retrospective.  Wellman is one of those Hollywood directors that lacks the name recognition of a Hitchcock, John Ford, Frank Capra and the like.  But his talent produced some of the best and/or most entertaining films made in Hollywood over four decades, including a film I wrote about last year, The Ox-Bow Incident.  And, as I discovered, he's a native of my current town, Brookline, Massachusetts, and for that alone, this retrospective grabbed my attention.  [Go here for the full list of films in the retrospective.]

Sadly, I can't attend all the screenings, despite my efforts to look for ways to camp out on the grass at Harvard Yard(!)  But, in the first ten days of the series, I got to four of his early films.  This post is simply my appreciation for Wellman's craft as shown in these films, all of which were first-time viewings for me.  In a later post, I'll write about some of his later films.

First, some facts--and/or legends--about William Wellman:
  • He was born in Brookline but attended high school in Newton, Mass., down the road, where he apparently got expelled for dropping a stink-bomb on the principal's head.
  • He played professional ice hockey.
  • He became a fighter pilot in WWI.
  • He piloted his airplane onto the grounds of Pickfair (the Douglas Fairbanks-Mary Pickford Hollywood estate) when given a casual invitation to "drop by" after Fairbanks saw him play in a hockey match.
  • He got his start as an actor in films in the silent era, due to his connection with Fairbanks, but quickly became much more interested in directing.
  • He directed Fairbanks' son, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., in Love is a Racket (1932).
  • For his escapades before and during his film career, he earned the nickname "Wild Bill" Wellman.  The picture above tells it all, doesn't it?!
  • His film Wings was the first, in 1928, to win what is now known as the 'Best Picture' Oscar.
  • His 1931 film The Public Enemy made a star of James Cagney and helped propel Jean Harlow out of obscurity.
  • He directed the first-ever version of A Star is Born (1937).
  • His directing style was wide-ranging, with an emphasis on action and movement, as well as on realistic settings.  His pre-code output in the early 30s was the greatest of his career. 
Battle scenes in Wings (IMDb)
Wings (Paramount, 1927 -- silent).
This is the first film in history to win the best picture Oscar. It tells the story of two friends in small town America who become fighter pilots in WWI. Their friendship is strengthened, but also is their rivalry, which stems from their love for the same woman back home.  There are heroic scenes aplenty, and some moments of tragedy.

The Wellman touch:  It's part action/war flick and part melodrama.  Wellman clearly put his flying expertise into this--the action shots were made by mounting cameras on actual airplanes and capturing real planes, carrying the real stars (!), flying up and down and over in the great skies. The film obviously was a huge success and played in some cinemas continually for over a year.

l-r: Charles Rogers, Clara  Bow,
Richard Arlen (HFA)
What impressed me:  The star power in this film is top caliber for the day, and oh my, the stars were stunningly gorgeous.  Richard Arlen and Jobyna Ralston in particular, but also Charles (Buddy) Rogers and Clara Bow, the 'IT' girl of the day, who unfortunately had a tendency to overplay in this one. Gary Cooper makes a brief appearance, but he would shortly eclipse all these stars in the popularity department.  Even El Brendel, as the comic relief, looked good here(!).


It's no secret that the action sequences are jaw-dropping, but seeing them on the big screen elicited gasps from me, and others, on more than one occasion.  The scope of the battlefield scenes reminds us that the silent era did not necessarily skimp on craft or quality compared to the sound era--directors like Wellman made the most of what was available to them, and often dreamed big.  Watch below for one of the big aerial scenes.

Beggars of Life (Paramount, 1928-silent).  
Richard Arlen again was the star in this one, but rather than a war story, this film shows the adventures of two young down-on-their-luck vagrants, the other being silent legend Louise Brooks.  The two fall in love while trying to run from the law, and get entangled with a dangerous gang.  This film was recently restored and released on Kino Lorber.

The Wellman touch:  Silent film melodrama works well when the emotions of the film's characters, the backbone of the film, are done justice by the choices the actors and director make.  The best directors work with the glory of the 'faces' they had back then to draw us in.  Wellman was terrific at this, using powerful close-ups in key moments.  But true to form, he also kept the pace moving quickly, with action sequences in this case on and around moving trains.

Louise Brooks sees Richard Arlen's character for the first time
What impressed me:  This film is a perfect demonstration of how great silent cinematic melodrama, like opera, often focuses on no more than three central characters confronting life-altering circumstances or choices.  Regardless of how realistic the scenarios are, the art is in us finding the universal feelings of the human condition and losing ourselves in the experience.  

Wellman was able to get his actors to be the best they could be: Louise Brooks, both androgynous and stunning, and Richard Arlen, handsome, virile, and yet sensitive. And for the "villain" Wallace Beery, an oafish presence in most of his films, but here his talent is inarguable.  There is a scene toward the end of the movie where his character goes through a change of heart.  With only pantomime and facial expression - Beery is so so good. I gained a new respect for Beery as an actor. 
Wallace Beery in Beggars of Life 
Beau Geste (Paramount, 1939)
The British colonial adventure novel, Beau Geste, by Percival Christopher Wren, was filmed so many times that a parody in 1977 was called The Last Remake of Beau Geste (note to self - I need to watch that sometime.) The basic story is that of the three Geste brothers, Beau, John, and Digby; they join the foreign legion and have to defend a fort in the Sahara under attack by Arabs.  In the meantime, one of them, unknown to the others, has stolen a jewel from his adoptive mother in order to protect her from scandal and bankruptcy.  Adventures ensue.  This particular film was the first 'talking' version, coming 13 years after the highly successful silent version starring Ronald Colman.

Robert Preston, Gary Cooper, and Ray Milland as the
Geste brothers, in civilian dress. (photo from HFA).
The brothers in their uniforms (IMDb)



The Wellman touch:  Here Wellman again used his love of realistic locales, and arranged for the filming of this in real sand dunes in 'Buttercup Valley' California, near the Arizona border, the same location as the 1926 film.  As usual he put his actors through the rugged treatment, but they all gained respect for him, as, according to Preston, on an off night in a Mexican border town, a character came to their table and reminded Wellman he served as his airplane mechanic in the war (from Majestic Hollywood: The Greatest Films of 1939, by Mark Vieira).
Brian Donlevy (from allposterimages.com)

What impressed me:
  I was pretty sure I had not seen this version going in, but when it started, it looked so familiar I began to question if I indeed had seen it. It turns out, it was the silent version I had seen, but this one adhered so closely to the that the deja vu feeling was strong and understandable.  Despite being familiar with the story, I particularly loved the commitment and zest that Brian Donlevy put into his role as the sadistic commander of the troops at the fort.  He deservedly won the Oscar for supporting actor as a result.  Apparently, he was not popular on the set, having immersed himself a bit too deeply as Sgt. Markoff.

At the beginning, the camera pans over the fort, where men are stationed one per lookout point, across the top. It is creepy, in that all of the men are staring out at us, but we realize with horror that every face is that of a dead man, killed in action, but propped up to look like he is at his post.  This was also a choice made by the director of the 1926 version, Herbert Brenon.

Overall, the film won't be on my favorites list, but it is worth seeing if you're a fan of Wellman's, or any of the actors.

Nothing Sacred (Selznick International Pictures, 1937)

As a classic 'screwball comedy', starring Carole Lombard, the screwball queen, Nothing Sacred was a departure for Wellman. In this depression-era genre, typically a dizzy female heroine involves her male companions in a farcical situation that allows them to play off one another in an early Hollywood 'battle of the sexes'.  In this one, Lombard is Hazel Flagg, a young woman in a small Vermont town who is presumably dying of radium poisoning. A down-on-his-luck New York City reporter Wally Cook, played by Fredric March, sees an angle to exploit, and brings Hazel to the big city to be a one-woman human interest story, to impress his beleagured boss, played by Walter Connolly.  Little do they know, and Hazel isn't about to reveal, that she's just been declared healthy.  And, of course, as she tries harder to conceal this fact, she and Wally fall in love.  This 'battle of the sexes' becomes a real battle, when the two don boxing gloves and literally duke it out for several minutes near the end of the film!

The Wellman touch:  The pace of the film was perfect, with the farcical situations gaining momentum without the action ever rising to the level of the maniacal. There were many scenes in which the actors were placed in a perfectly symmetrical position, and I consciously appreciated the image composition while I was enjoying the performances.  
Fredric March and Carole Lombard (Wikipedia)
What impressed me:  While Lombard is dependably wonderful, I was surprised by how well Fredric March pulled off his role. I consider him as mostly a serious actor - think The Best Years of Our Lives, The Barretts of Wimple Street.  Come to think of it, he played in two other comedies that I've seen: I Married a Witch, and Design for Living, so perhaps not as much a stretch as I originally thought.  However, I learned that the role was written for John Barrymore, but at this point in his career, his alcoholism prevented him from getting the part.

It was a little jarring to see a 1930s screwball comedy in color, but once I settled into this, I could appreciate the top production values accorded the film, as was common for Selznick, including the music by Oscar Levant and the screenplay by Ben Hecht. Also, with Lombard's reddish hair, I kept thinking about the similarities between her and Lucille Ball, who idolized Lombard as a comedienne.  You can see how Ball adopted some of Lombard's facial expressions and kinetic acting style in her Lucy Ricardo character.  

Stay tuned for more of my Wellman experience, in the next couple of months.

*Sad note: The HFA lost programmer David Pendleton, this past week.  RIP David.  I enjoyed hearing him offer his tremendous insights introducing films over the last several years.  Here is a recent appreciation by critic Ty Burr.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Selections from my October Film Diary + Terrific new Streaming Service

Exploring the realm of the macabre and supernatural in film during October seems to be a ritual among classic movie fans.  It was great fun to join in this year, and while the horror genre is not my favorite, I'm highlighting some of my discoveries that span six-plus decades of film.

Island of Lost Souls (1932, D. Erle C. Kenton).  This is the first film version of the H.G. Wells story about a semi-mad scientist holed up on a remote island conducting experiments that turn animals into half-human hybrids.  (It was remade as The Island of Dr. Moreau twice in the later part of the 20th century.  Alas I've not seen either of these, but neither are considered classics.)  However, this earlier film is a fascinating early 'talkie' offering in the horror genre.   Richard Arlen, Leila Hyams star as the protagonists, and Bela Lugosi shows up in a small unrecognizable part after coming off his box office success as Dracula, but the major star, and the main reason one should watch this film, is Charles Laughton.  A terrific actor (and one-time director), he is deliciously diabolical as Dr. Moreau, but retains a human edge.  To my taste he doesn't overplay it. His dark hair and goatee really suit him.  I will say this one is decidedly not suitable for those sensitive to racist or sexist elements in their movie choices.  There is a detailed and fun review of this one at Pre-code.com here (although Danny does not share my enthusiasm for Laughton's performance).  The DVD is on the Criterion Collection label.  The trailer is here:

The first appearance of 'the man' portrayed by
director Herk Harvey himself.
Carnival of Souls (1962, D. Herk Harvey).  Sticking with the 'souls' theme, a completely different film made three decades later, is a low-budget masterpiece.  I had not seen this until this past month, but learned that it's now a cult classic.  Made by Centron, a small outfit in my former hometown of Lawrence, KS. known primarily for industrial and educational productions, this was the director's and writer John Clifford's pet project while on vacation. They shot on a budget of some $30,000, and used location settings in and around Lawrence, including an organ factory I vaguely recall visiting as a child.  Harvey & company also resurrected a real abandoned carnival pavilion "Saltair" at the edge of the Great Salt Lake in Utah -- thus giving the film its name.   Also available in a gorgeous blu-ray by Criterion, it's fantastically eerie and unsettling, kind of a cross between the Twilight Zone TV series and Night of the Living Dead.  It has a surreal air about it and all the characters are just a bit 'off.'  It appears most of the budget was spent on cinematography -- it's so beautiful and creative.  A great choice was the use of a single organ score to accompany the film.

The main character is Mary Henry (Candace Hilligoss), who survives a car that drove off a bridge, and decides to start a new life as a church organist in Utah.  Mysterious live and undead people pop into her life and make it very uncomfortable, for her and for us.  For the moment, you can watch the entire film on YouTube:

The Vanishing (aka Spoorloos), (1988, D. George Sluizer).  This is the first, Dutch/French, version of the story that George Sluizer directed, based on the novel The Golden Egg by Tim Krabbe. It was remade in an American version in 1993 with Kiefer Sutherland, Jeff Bridges, and Sandra Bullock. I've not seen that one.  But I've read enough about it that I doubt I will anytime soon.  The original version is considered to be superior, and yes, it's fantastic.  A young Dutch couple, Rex and Saskia, (Gene Bervoets, Johanna ter Steege), are on vacation in France, driving through the countryside, when Saskia disappears at a gas station in broad daylight.  Her boyfriend, Rex, embarks on a three-year journey to find her, or at least find out what happened, when he encounters the perpetrator, Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu), a seemingly normal family man with an extraordinarily macabre side.  This film plays with us almost from the beginning, with the jumps back and forth in time, and the fact that we know who the villain is, we just don't know Saskia's exact fate.  Rex and Raymond are on a collision course through most of the film's running time until the unsettling ending.  The thrills are mostly psychological, and its symbolism, both visually and in the script, make it required repeat viewing.  Be warned, though, if you are sensitive to disturbing depictions of the dark side of humanity, you may want to skip it.
Saskia and Rex, happily unaware what's to come.

Raymond, with Saskia in his sights.
The latter two of films were originally brought to my attention by the podcast 'Criterion Close-up', in which film aficionados Aaron West and Mark Hurne discuss films that are released on the Criterion home cinema label.  Criterion is a favorite of cinephiles for their high quality productions of the best films, and their packaging of the films along with unusually generous extras.  And this leads me to endorse a brand new streaming film service called 'Filmstruck'.  (Not a paid commercial endorsement here, but one out of enthusiasm for this service!)  It collects films from Criterion, along with those provided by Turner Classic Movies, into a smorgasbord of offerings of classic, modern, foreign, and arthouse films, along with commentary videos.  Take a look!  I've given up my Netflix membership in favor of this, as I choose to watch film in my spare time, and not episodic series, despite the quality of Netflix offerings in that space.  I was a beta-tester for Filmstruck, and am pleased to have a complimentary membership to the end of the year.  I will definitely renew.