Classic Movies Digest

Portrait of Jennie (1948): Haunting Beauty

2012-01-20T08:45:00.000-05:00

"Who knoweth if to die be but to live, and that called life by mortals be but death?" ~ Euripides

Portraits have played key plot elements in several classic movies during the 1940’s, sometimes even being the central theme around which the film is based. From Kitty (1945) and Laura (1944) to The Picture of Dorian Gray (also 1945), the mystery and enchantment of someone’s painted image intrigued moviegoers throughout the decade. One of the most fascinating examples in this circle took over four years to get on the screen. Portrait of Jennie (1948) is a romantic fantasy with shades of mystery and more than its share of haunting beauty.

The film was based on a 1940 novel by Robert Nathan, who had also authored The Bishop’s Wife, which was adapted for the screen in 1947. MGM had taken an option on the story but dropped it, when producer David O. Selznick picked it up in late 1944. When casting discussions began, Vivien Leigh was considered for the part of Jennie. She was still under contract to Selznick at the time and there was even talk of she and husband Laurence Olivier starring together but the idea was dropped. There was also discussion among Selznick’s production team to film it with Shirley Temple, who was also under personal contract, over a period of years to take advantage of Temple’s transition from youth to young adulthood. As tempting as the marketing angle was to the publicity genius, Selznick felt it would be a perfect project for his then lover Jennifer Jones. Joseph Cotten was then cast in the male lead, making it the fourth film teaming for the duo in as many years (Cotten and Jones had previously co-starred in Since You Went Away (1944), Love Letters (1945) and Duel in the Sun (1946)).

Eben Adams is a downtrodden artist, a wandering soul in search of what he’s not entirely sure. His name fairly drips of early-mid century American artist. He half heartedly wanders into the low key but high quality gallery of Matthews and Spinney, the latter name belonging to a straight talking, self proclaimed old maid who takes a shine to Adams. Receiving a verbal as well as a financial renewal at Matthews and Spinney, the artist heads back out into the cold that is Manhattan in winter. While wandering in the park, he encounters a strange but lovely girl named Jennie. She talks of things and places from 20+ years earlier, as if they were happening that day. She leaves as suddenly as she appeared, leaving Adams to speculate on such an odd child. Taken with Jennie’s unique spirit, the artist creates a sketch of her which he presents to Matthews and Spinney. Mr. Matthews, who originally thought Eben’s work lacking, finds the sketch so striking and inspired, that he offers him a relatively substantial sum.

Adams once again meets Jennie, while out and about, but notices that she seems to have aged somewhat, changing from a child into a pre-adolescent. His subsequent encounters with her prove just as strange, each revealing a maturity in years. As she “ages” he falls in love with her and she with him. This romance, created beyond the confines of time and space, blossoms but where will it lead?

With production beginning in February 1947 and ending in October 1948, Jennie was fraught with problems, least of which was Selznick’s perfectionism. William Dieterle was chosen to direct. His creative sense of the visual had been used to great effect in the fantasy The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941), which had photographic elements that could transfer into this project. Ethel Barrymore was perfectly cast as Miss Spinney, as was Cecil Kellaway as Mr. Matthews and Lillian Gish as a kind nun who knew Jennie as a child.

Portrait of Jennie was released on Christmas Day 1948 and although not very well received, has over the course of time become a classic. Joseph Cotten won the International Prize for Best Actor at the 1949 Venice International Film Festival for his portrayal of Eben Adams and Selznick and Jones married the following year. Though problems and chaos plagued production of the movie, the end result is a fascinating fantasy ghost romance.

A Kay Francis Double Feature: "Wavishing"

2012-01-13T09:54:00.000-05:00

Most fans of classic movies know film divas of the 1930’s such as Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Greta Garbo. They are iconic figures who more often than not, appear as caricatures of there original screen image. But among these movie queens, there is a name that hardcore cinephiles also recognize with as much stature in the deco era: Kay Francis.

A sultry brunette who was always dressed to the nines, Francis wrung her hands and suffered long in films at both Paramount and Warner Brothers studios during the Depression. She headlined both light comedies and heavy melodramas, with emphasis on the latter. Two prime examples of a “Kay Francis film” are featured below, the first from her early days at Paramount and the second during her tenure at Warners.

The Virtuous Sin (1930)
Is there such a thing as a virtuous sin? Kay seemed to think so in this very early talkie in which she co-starred with Walter Huston. Set in World War I Russia, it’s actually a bit hokey and kind of dated but since it’s a pre-code, there’s enough risqué hanky panky to make it fun.

Kay plays the wife of a medical researcher (Kenneth McKenna), an eager chap who is taken into the military against his will. His disgust of his current station leads to insubordination and eventually court martial. Sentenced to execution by his superior (Huston), our doctor friend is hopeless. Enter Kay, determined to save him no matter what it takes, even though she has admitted she isn’t deeply in love with him. She frequents a café cum bordello in an attempt to tantalize the general who sentenced her husband to die, hoping to “persuade” him to reverse his decision. So what does she do instead? She falls in love with him!

The Virtuous Sin is the kind of improbable melodrama that ran rampant in pre-code Hollywood. Hand to forehead tales with overacting styles that carried over from silent films. They are a hoot to watch though and rarely boring. As an interesting side note, Kay and costar McKenna carried on a torrid affair during filming which culminated in their marriage in early 1931.

Living on Velvet (1935)
Although not one of Francis’ better known or more notorious vehicles, Living on Velvet is a good example of the genre she starred in while at Warner Brothers. At her zenith, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. At her lowest ebb at the studio, she was among the highest paid stars in Hollywood. You see, hers was an extremely lucrative contract and even when Warners thought her time had passed and gave her sub par scripts in hopes her ego would make her break said contract, she plugged along collecting her paychecks and becoming a very wealthy woman.

Living on Velvet gave her two leading men, George Brent and Warren William (though there was no doubt that Kay was the star). Aviator Brent loses his parents and sister in a plane crash in which he had piloted the plane. Guilty and reckless, he feels he is now ‘living on velvet’. When he meets Kay, it is love at first site for them both, although she is Warren’s girl. Kay marries George only to be plagued by his lackadaisical outlook about making a living and life in general.

Francis had worked with both George Brent and Warren William before and worked with Brent several more times before leaving Warners. Life was not velvet for William during this period. Once a leading man at the studio and on loan-out films like the previous year’s Cleopatra and the original Imitation of Life, Velvet relegated the actor to what was basically supporting status. Far from the suave and virile men he’d played earlier in the decade, he was a mere door mat for best friend Brent and girlfriend Kay to walk across on there way to the alter.

One notable scene from Living on Velvet has Brent’s character giving Francis a diction lesson. The star had a noticeable lisp, where her ‘r’s came out as ‘w’s. So much so that she was often teasingly called the “wavishing Kay Fwancis.” In their shared scene, George gives Kay a verbal exercise where she must repeat “around the ragged rocks the ragged rascal ran,” only Francis’ version went: “Awound the wagged wocks the wagged wascal wan.” Audiences found her self deprecation charming.

The actress continued making films after she left Warner Brothers in the late 1930’s, but her glory days were long behind her. A workhorse (she made 15 films in 1930-31 alone) as well as a clotheshorse (her costume changes were legendary), Kay Francis was also a true blue star.
For more information about the colorful Kay Francis, author Scott O’Brien has penned a fascinating biography entitled, Kay Francis: I Can't Wait to be Forgotten - Her Life on Film and Stage (linked below).

The Women (1939): Color It “Jungle Red”

2012-01-06T12:17:00.000-05:00

Start with one highly seasoned Norma Shearer. Next, add a fairly hard boiled Joan Crawford (she will toughen even more during cooking). Take one second string star, Rosalind Russell, just waiting to blossom. Mix in a couple of fresh faces with fresh figures, preferably Paulette Goddard and Joan Fontaine. Then sprinkle the whole thing with colorful supporting players like Marjorie Main, Mary Boland and Lucile Watson. Serve up with art direction by Cedric Gibbons and couture by Adrian (no last name necessary) and you’ve got a recipe for cinematic success known far and wide simply as, The Women (1939).

With a cast largely consisting of discarded Scarlett O’Hara wannabes, The Women was produced the same year as Gone with the Wind and was second only to that gargantuan film in profits for its studio, MGM, in 1939. Director George Cukor was signed on to tame these lipsticked lionesses after also being discarded as director from the Civil War epic, when the films’ star, Clark Gable, complained that he was giving too much attention to the female leads. Cukor said of The Women: “ At the time it probably wasn’t as silly as it seems now, because it came from a different world. ‘Kept women’ and marital break ups were big moral questions then. Now, of course, everybody would be screwing everybody, and everybody would know about it. Crystal wouldn’t be a kept woman, she’d be carrying on with another girl.” But Cukor’s deft and skillful directing aside, the classic comedy belonged entirely to its title characters.

The plot is indeed as Cukor described it about ‘kept women’ and marital break ups, in a gossipy modern high society circle of “friends” in NYC. Based on the hit Broadway play by Clare Booth Luce, it ran 666 performances on the Great White Way in 1936. In a nutshell, wealthy and elegant socialite Mary Haines (Shearer) goes through her privileged tasteful life in bliss with her handsome, engineer husband, Stephen and their daughter, Little Mary (it must be noted that nary a man steps in front of the camera during the two plus hours of celluloid. They are merely referenced….A LOT!). Her happy existence is threatened big time with the onset of Crystal Allen (Crawford, pictured here with her signature designer Adrian), shopgirl, home wrecker and floosie supreme. Enter Sylvia Fowler (Russell), et al, Mary’s dearest “friends” who verbally and maliciously take her (and each other) apart piece by piece.

Most, if not all, of the movie’s stars were in some sort of career shift. Norma Shearer, whose MGM high-up honcho husband, Irving Thalberg had died two years earlier, was in a state of dated star decline, holding her own basically because she was also holding substantial MGM stock left to her by her dear departed spouse. Joan Crawford was also on the verge of “has been” status after a string of flops at Metro. Pop columnist Sheila Graham noted in early 1939, “After three misses in a row, if Joan Crawford doesn’t come up with a hit picture soon, she will be joining Luise Rainer in the Hall of Forgotten Stars at Metro.” Never any love lost between Shearer and Crawford, the two divas had an long standing feud over who was the female powerhouse at MGM. Crawford always felt that Norma got the choice roles at the studio, merely because she was sleeping with the boss and was fond of calling her “Miss Lotta Miles”, a moniker Shearer had worn back in the 20’s as a model for a tire manufacturer. Their attempts to one up each other on the set were legendary, including Crawford’s clacking knitting needles during many of Shearer’s scenes.

Rosalind Russell had been at MGM for half a decade, relegated to second tier status for most of that time with a few exceptions, most notably on loan out to Columbia for Craig’s Wife (1936). With the success of The Women, Russell’s talents as a comedic gem had been discovered and utilized. Like Russell, both Paulette Goddard and Joan Fontaine were actresses who were just on the verge of stardom. Goddard had actually been a hair’s length away from winning the coveted role of Scarlett in GWTW before losing out to Vivien Leigh. On loan out from producer David O. Selznick for The Women, she would leave the showman’s employ later that year to enter a long term, very successful run at Paramount where her star would shine. Fontaine would also shoot to stardom in 1940, when Alfred Hitchcock cast her as the second Mrs. deWinter in his classic Rebecca. Not as high profile as most of the other females on the Women set, Fontaine had up until that time, fell mostly in the shadow of her more successful, higher profile sister, Olivia de Havilland. In “Joan Crawford: The Essential Biography” the star praises Cukor and most of her cast mates (except Shearer, of course!) with the noted exception of Fontaine. “I think the only one I could have done without was Joan Fontaine. She wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t nasty - there was just something about her. She had the smallest part of all of us and maybe she was just a little jealous."

Marjorie Main presented a trial run of her Ma Kettle character ten years early and it suited her Lucy character in The Women to a tee. Comedy veteran Mary Boland spouted her faith in “l’amour” throughout the film, cracking many hilarious one-liners along the way and in a small but fun part, luscious Virginia Grey, as one of Crawford’s department store co-workers, makes one wonder why Stephen Haines didn’t sniff around HER end of the perfume counter instead of the world weary Crystal’s.

Above, MGM boss Louis B. Mayer, with Paulette Goddard and director George Cukor at The Women premiere

The Women was an enormous hit. It’s premise was successful enough to warrant not one but two remakes, albeit sad disappointments, both. First in 1956 with The Opposite Sex starring June Allyson and Joan Collins, then again over 50 years later under the original title with Meg Ryan and Annette Benning. Neither even came close to the sparkling wit and vicious bite of the original film. It’s phenomenal ensemble may never be duplicated under such circumstances again.

2012!: Let the Classic Movies Continue!

2012-01-01T08:20:00.001-05:00

It’s another year and another passel of great classic films to look forward to in the next twelve months. I’m not sure who or what films might show up, but there are some stars, films and film genres that I hope to feature in the near future. Look for Carole Lombard, Edward G. Robinson, Alfred Hitchcock, Olivia de Havilland, a glimpse of classic British films from across the pond and much more.

Thank you for sharing your love of classic film with me and letting me share it with you in 2011. I hope great things are in store in 2012. Happy New Year!

Heidi (1937): Shirley Temple Climbs a Mountain

2011-12-22T22:16:00.000-05:00

During the 1930’s in Hollywood, the top brass at 20th Century-Fox knew a good thing when they saw it and they saw it in a little tyke named Shirley Temple. Depression weary audiences flocked to the movies of the grammer school cupie-doll in droves, allowing her to single-handedly save her home studio from bankruptcy. Already the top box office draw in America for two years running, Temple was starting to age by 1937 (she was all of 9 years-old) and Fox studio boss Darryl F. Zanuck handed over the newest Temple vehicle, Heidi, to director Allan Dwan to see what he could do with it. It would be the first of three film collaborations for Dwan and Temple and the most successful, being a perfect vehicle for the star and keeping her at the top of the box office for a third year in a row.

Based on the classic children’s story by Joanna Spyri, Heidi is a little orphan girl, thrust upon her brusque and bitter grandfather by a mercenary and unloving aunt in the Swiss Alps. Cold and indifferent at first, the Grandfather (Jean Hersholt) warms quickly to the natural and loving child and the two become very attached. Enter evil aunt Dete again, whisking Heidi away to sell her into servitude to a wealthy aristocrat. While the Grandfather searches high and low for his beloved grandchild, Heidi begs to be taken back to her Alpine haven, only to be told she must stay in the opulent household to entertain a sad crippled girl named Klara (Marcia Mae Jones). All this is overseen by Klara’s sinister governess Fraulein Rottenmeier (Mary Nash).

Temple could have easily taken this to the saccharine, and some may say she did, but her natural charm and good humor shines through and makes for a highly entertaining family film. The fake snow proved a problem though when little Shirley accidentally swallowed some and had to be off the set for a day or two to recuperate. But if the snow was phony the settings are authentic in look and feel and that is mostly attributed to the fact that much of the outdoors was shot at Lake Arrowhead in San Bernardino County, California.

A musical number, “In Our Little Wooden Shoes” was inserted in the middle of the picture, much influenced by the miniature star herself. As a personal observation, the scene seems tacked on. It’s actually a dream sequence but lends nothing at all to the story. However, it is a cute way to interject Shirley in a few ornate costumes.

Heidi is a favorite around the holiday season. The snow, the classic story for children, the curmudgeonly Santa look-alike in the Grandfather all come together to give a Christmas aura (plus, the film climaxes on Christmas Eve). I know I first saw it as a kid on Christmas break from school. It was actually the first Shirley Temple movie I ever saw and for anyone who hasn’t seen one and wonders what she’s all about, it is a good film to get started.

Deck the Halls With Tinsel(town)!

2011-12-16T09:06:00.000-05:00

Classic Hollywood knew how to deck the halls (and the terrace and the pool house and the second story mezzanine and the....well, anyway) with all the glitz and glamour that only it could. Bet Elizabeth Taylor (above) knew the joys of icy diamonds even at this youthful age.

Alice Faye is definitely in the giving Yuletide spirit!

Gene Tierney makes a lovely and colorful Christmas card.

Cary Grant mugging as St. Nick with galpals Lucille Ball and Ann Sheridan egg(nog)ing him along.

Joan Bennett and daughter Melinda in the late 1930's.

Carole Lombard has been a good girl (or maybe a bad one), as evidenced by her haul of Christmas goodies.

June Allyson filling her stockings with care.

The Lemon Drop Kid (1951): Ring Those “Silver Bells”

2011-12-09T16:33:00.001-05:00

Damon Runyon was a writer of short stories whose literary world was hard boiled and street smart, where women were ‘dames’ or ‘tomatoes’ and men were named ‘Benny the Gouge’ and ‘Harry the Horse’. He wrote of the shady types whose domain was Broadway during and shortly after Prohibition. Paramount produced two films in 1934 based on Runyon tales, Little Miss Marker and The Lemon Drop Kid. In 1949, the studio remade Little Miss Marker as Sorrowful Jones starring their top comedian Bob Hope. Hope, along with co-star Lucille Ball, made the film a big success and the funny man decided he wanted to try another Runyon story as a film vehicle. The next year production started on a remake of the other ‘34 movie, The Lemon Drop Kid.

It’s silly fun, like most Bob Hope movies, but an added attraction was a holiday ditty written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, called “Silver Bells”. It was sung by Hope and his female lead, blonde Marilyn Maxwell and became an instant hit and holiday standard. Story has it the song was originally going to be called “Tinkle Bells” but Mrs. Jay Livingston advised against it, making reference to childhood slang for urination, hence “Silver”.

It’s a fun story. Hope plays a small time swindler called, you guessed it, the Lemon Drop Kid, who hustles tips at a Florida horse racing track and touts a race to a gangster’s unsuspecting moll. The losing horse ends up costing the thug $10,000, and the mob comes a knocking. Kid heads back to his stomping grounds of NYC and tries to solicit help from his chorus girl cutie Maxwell. Instead he ends up concocting a scheme to collect money for a fake retirement home called, get this, the Nellie Thursday Home for Old Dolls! Classic. Bob gets to dress in a sad looking Santa suit (as do his band of shady elves) and even takes a turn in drag as one of the “old dolls”.

To many, Bob Hope is remembered for his television comedy specials, his USO tours or his numerous turns as Oscar host but after transitioning from vaudeville in the late 1930’s, he became a major film star at Paramount. His “Road” pictures with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour were mega hits and his non-Road films were box office gold as well. By the time he made The Lemon Drop Kid, he was top of his game.

The colorful characters of Runyon’s world were portrayed by a colorful roster of Hollywood supporting players. William Frawley (who made this film just before starting his run as Fred Mertz on the long running T.V. classic, “I Love Lucy”), Jane Darwell, Lloyd Nolan and Fred Clark are all hilarious or hilariously menacing. And then there’s the pretty Marilyn Maxwell, but when it’s all said and done, it’s Bob Hope film and Bob more than delivers.

March of the Wooden Soldiers (1934): Laurel and Hardy Meet Santa Claus (AND the Boogeyman!)

2011-12-05T18:00:00.001-05:00

As a kid, I always looked forward to March of the Wooden Soldiers (1934) starring the hysterical twosome Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. But I must admit that I did so with excited trepidation. To put it bluntly, that flick creeped me out! Much like The Wizard of Oz, March (originally released as Babes in Toyland), featured many surreal looking characters and situations that fascinated as well as terrified this five year-old.

Based on a Victor Herbert operetta from 1903, the film was a fantasy extravaganza without the use of the yet to be invented CGI. Set entirely in Toyland, bizarre almost grotesque looking costumes adorned inhabitants such as the Cat and the Fiddle, the Three Little Pigs and even a Mickey Mouse (almost) look-alike. THEN there were the Boogeymen, Sasquatch wannabes who hooted and hollered while terrorizing Toyland. Santa Clause even makes an appearance though he looks as if he made a stop at the North Pole Bar and Grill on his way in (make it a double Blitzen). But of all these weird and wonderful eccentrics two ‘humans’ were creepiest of all and perhaps that’s because they were real people. First, Silas Barnaby, the meanest man in Toyland, was a cross between Ebenezer Scrooge and the hated black clad villain in silent film melodramas. You know, the one who tied the virginal damsel in distress to the railroad? Henry Brandon, billed as his birth name Kleinbach here, would again play this Barnaby-like character in an Our Gang episode a few years down the road. Second, and perhaps most surprising was Mother Goose. I don’t know, when she walked out with her gray finger waved, Goldie locked hair set underneath that tall prick-a-finger-you-die pointy black witches hat, heavy framed glasses sloped down on her nose and Salem witch trial collar wrapped ‘round her neck, I just didn’t get a good vibe. On top of that, this was all heaped around a face that didn’t look a day over 25! Creepy…….

But these were mere window dressing for the deco grand guignol by producer Hal Roach. The film was really a vehicle for Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, whose massive popularity was catapulted further still by the release of this film in Fall 1934. As Stannie Dum and Ollie Dee, L and H tumble and bumble in the most celebrated way while trying to help Widow Peep and her daughter Little Bo Peep battle the nasty Barnaby, who holds the mortgage on the shoe they all live in together (get it, the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe?). Bo Peep makes eyes at Tom-Tom, the Piper’s Son and he gets in on the action too.

Although Stan and Ollie were the stars of the film no holds barred, the other actors overplayed their parts to perfection. I mean this was Toyland in the midst of the Depression. Kids loved it and dragged parents in droves. Charlotte Henry, who was cast as Bo Peep, had just played another literary ingenue as the title character in the previous year’s Alice in Wonderland at Paramount. As the comely maiden, wearing a blond wig borrowed from Jethreen Bodine, she always reminded me very much of June Marlow, another Hal Roach player who immortalized Miss Crabtree in his Our Gang shorts. And speaking of resembling someone else in Tinseltown, if you have the opportunity to check the film out sometime, see if you don’t agree that as Tom-Tom, tenor Felix Knight could be the kid brother of Robert Taylor.

Seems kind of odd that physical comedy giants L and H would be plunked down in the middle of a Herbert operetta but for celluloid whimsy it works and Stan and Ollie aren’t required to sing anyway (although Oliver Hardy did get his show business start singing). With the flood of television sets in the 1950’s and 60’s, March of the Wooden Soldiers, also like The Wizard of Oz, made annual appearances to generations of kiddies. Colorized at the end of the 20th century, the original black and white version is better, lending an even eerier feel to an already tantalizing funfest.

Meet Me In St. Louis (1944): Have Yourself a Charming Little Movie

2011-11-30T08:05:00.001-05:00

You like splashy color? With Meet Me In St. Louis (1944) you got splashy color! You also have one of the most charming, enduring and elegant classic musicals ever put to film. Developed by the MGM musical powerhouse of producer Arthur Freed and director Vincent Minnelli, it showcased the fragile songbird Judy Garland at the height of her fame and talent and became a box office bonanza for the mega studio in the winter of 1944-45.

Set in the Missouri burg of the title in 1903, the film centers on the Smith family, middle class and ready to see and celebrate the coming Louisiana Exposition of 1904 but instead of a straight narrative, St. Louis is really a set of colorful, sentimental vignettes set to some of the catchiest tunes and loveliest melodies to come from Hollywood in the 1940’s, with Garland of course taking on the bulk of the lilting tones. Along with “The Boy Next Door” and “Under the Bamboo Tree” with the precocious moppet Margaret O’Brien, Judy and gang belt out one of the most glorious four minute interludes of musical magic known to the golden age of American cinema with “The Trolley Song”. Written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, “The Trolley Song” was not only nominated for an Academy Award as the year’s Best Song (it lost out to “Swinging on a Star” from Going My Way) but had several very popular renditions that hit the airwaves during the decade. The most enduring song to come from the St. Louis musical resume however, was Judy’s poignant holiday signature, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. Hauntingly beautiful in its delivery both visually and audibly, “Christmas” has become a standard on Yuletide play lists.

In an auburn wig with very heavy bangs, Garland had shed the “baby fat” much discussed by her studio boss Louis B. Mayer, but her trimmer figure could still pack a vocal wallop and did so. She is handsomely supported by a superlative array of MGM talent including the above mentioned O’Brien, Lucille Bremer, Mary Astor, Leon Ames, Marjorie Main, Harry Davenport and Tom Drake, as the “boy next door”. The entire cast charms its way from scene to scene evoking the feel and sound of turn of the century Americana via the MGM backlot.

Off-screen the film’s star found her own “boy next door” in director Minnelli. A confusing and tumultuous relationship, the two were married and begat Liza with a Z. However, whatever problems their future held, the two created a film musical masterpiece and the biggest financial hit MGM released since Gone With The Wind. There were many nostalgic period copy cats (Summer Holiday and Fox’s Centennial Summer) but none even came close to this jewel.

"May the Merry Bells Keep Ringing; Happy Holidays to You"

2011-11-29T10:00:00.001-05:00

It’s here again. The Christmas season in all its excitement, majesty and frivolity has made its way around the calendar yet again and for the classic movie fan, it is usually a time which is filled with film viewing options. Whether it’s a night at home watching your all time holiday favorites or receiving the latest ‘deluxe’ version dvd in your stocking by the fire, Christmas can offer a plethora of great movie choices with wonderful classic stars, such as the lovely Jeanne Crain (right).In the next few weeks, Classic Movies Digest will spotlight some of filmdom's festive favorites, several viewed since childhood, conjuring memories of cold December afternoons at a grandparent’s house with delicious smells of baking and plenty of hot chocolate to boot. If you haven’t seen some of the movies showcased here, maybe it will peak your interest to do so and if you have, it might tempt you to revisit a treasured time. Merry Christmas, God Bless Us Everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving!: Please, Pass the Yams

2011-11-23T22:54:00.001-05:00

Have a safe, happy, healthy and classic Thanksgiving!

Lucille Ball at 100: We Love You Lucy!

2011-08-05T22:06:00.004-04:00

People from 5 to 105 love Lucy. Who? You know who, even if you aren’t one of the millions who DO love Lucy, you know who she is. She is the zany redhead we have watched since childhood on the hilarious 1950‘s comedy “I Love Lucy“. (We know she is a redhead because, well, just because we do. It’s not because we see her on her world famous T.V. show with red hair since it is in black and white). August 6th is the 100th anniversary of her birth in Jamestown, New York and much hoopla will be made in her honor, as well it should be.

Although she is known across the globe for her comedic genius, she got her start in none other than classic movies, first at RKO, then later as a Technicolor queen at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Many forget her dramatic film roots (pardon the hair coloring related pun, as she herself made quite joke of it often on her show) and it’s a part of “Lucy” history which should be brought to light for those who may not be aware of a pretty darn impressive career.

This post isn’t going to be a deep retrospective, as so many and so much has been written about this great performer, but just a gentle reminder of a few of her more interesting film roles. If you haven’t seen them, you might want to check them out. You might be surprised.

Stage Door (1937) ~ Ball shares the screen with some RKO heavyweights, Katharine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers and tosses a few verbal punches in as well. Early Lucy.

Dance Girl, Dance (1940) ~ Although Maureen O’Hara is the technical star of this show, Lucy comes out ahead most of the time. As Bubbles, exotic dancer, she is brassy and sassy and extremely attractive (pictured below). Early Dramatic Lucy.

The Big Street (1942) ~ The first time I saw this film I couldn’t believe I was watching the fun and loving star of one of my favorite comedy shows! Ball is cold and callous as a nightclub performer who treats her mousy admirer (Henry Fonda) like something scraped off her dog’s paw, she shows a whole different side to our favorite redhead.

The Dark Corner (1946) ~ Lucy as a “girl Friday” in an intriguing film noir at the peak of the genres popularity. Can’t miss. Suspenseful Lucy.

Then there are the fun and frivolous musical comedy confections she made when she moved over to MGM. DuBarry Was a Lady, Best Foot Forward and others. These performances, along with her great television work, built a career than spanned over 50 years and showed just why so many “loved Lucy”.

Lead graphic by illustrator Glen Hanson
http://www.glenhanson.com/

Christmas Holiday (1944): Have Yourself an Edgy Little Christmas or Respite From the Heatwave

2011-07-24T13:41:00.004-04:00

Christmas Holiday. The name sets forth images of festive shoppers, skirting past lavishly decorated store windows, Yuletide parties, both hip and homespun, trees, lights, carols and mistletoe. Given these impressions, a film by such a title might seem to be filled with music, laughter and/or a warm hearted message of hope and happiness. Anyone who has ever seen Christmas Holiday (1944), knows that assessment is dead wrong, dead being the operative word. In fact, the production from low key, low cost Universal Studios, is a dark and brooding film noir directed by Robert Siodmak, no stranger to the genre.

Based on a novel by W. Somerset Maugham, the story centers around the relationship between a handsome and seemingly affable young man (Gene Kelly) and the pretty young woman (Deanna Durbin) he meets and marries. But it soon becomes clear that the young man, Robert, is a gambling, psychopathic mama’s boy, who murders a bookie. His naïve and trusting wife, Jackie, continues to love and believe in him, even after she discovers his shady alter ego. With hints of incest and gossamer veiled prostitution (Jackie’s self inflicted punishment for not “helping” her screwed up husband enough), Christmas Holiday is a psychoanalyst dream, complete with a mysterious, possessive mother (Gale Sondergaard, who was born to play such a part).

Casting the leads was the real surprise for moviegoers who saw the film in 1944. Deanna Durbin was the reigning sweetheart at Universal since she signed on almost a decade before. Unknown Durbin had made a short film called “Every Sunday” in 1936 at MGM with then also unknown 14 year-old Judy Garland. It was a screen test of sorts for the two young hopefuls. Metro kept Judy and Deanna signed with Universal. It is said that the lively Durbin’s popularity saved the struggling studio from bankruptcy. Her films were light as a feather and always featured her lilting operatic voice. Christmas Holiday was chosen as her first dramatic role and it was reportedly her favorite.

Like Durbin, Gene Kelly was cast strongly against type. Getting his start in musical theater on Broadway, Kelly had only been in films a couple of years, mostly starring in musicals. The role of Robert Manette was a complete about face for him. An interesting turn though and one that showed a different facet to a growing film star. The novelty of an already intriguing film was the casting of such fluffy and pleasant musical celebrities as dark downers in an offbeat offering.

Contrary to what one might think, the musical lilting heard by Deanna (after all, this IS a Durbin picture), has nothing to do with Yuletide yearnings but instead love ditties by lyric powerhouses including "Spring WIll Be A Little Late This Year" written by Frank Loesser and “Always” by Irving Belin. No dancing though, Kelly saved plenty of that for his other 1944 photoplay, Cover Girl, also on loan-out.

Paulette Goddard: 5 Things You (May or) May Not Know

2011-06-03T08:12:00.004-04:00

Vivacious, gorgeous, intelligent and bedecked with both jewels and men (one often contingent upon the other), Paulette Goddard led one of the most fascinating lives during Hollywood’s Golden Age. Upon the 101st (or 100th or even the 106th, depending on what source one accepts) anniversary of her birth, I’d like to bring to light a few interesting facts about the comely and much married star that you might not know.

1.) Three of her four husbands were celebrities, that’s fairly common knowledge, but her first marriage while still in her teens, was to a lumber tycoon from North Carolina. Much out of character with the glamorous image of Paulette wining, dining and being squired around Hollywood and New York, Goddard actually lived in Asheville, North Carolina. Although a beautiful city and surrounding area (the filthy rich Vanderbilt family constructed their castle, Biltmore House there), it wasn’t exactly the place in which she hoped to live out her days. Her tenure of rural living didn’t last long though, as two years later, she headed to Reno for divorce and a healthy financial settlement, then onto California.

2.) Before Vivien Leigh was signed, Paulette was the leading contender in the race to play Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind (1939). Other top candidates who were considered were Joan Bennett and Jean Arthur but Paulette was at the top of the heap. Her inability to produce a marriage certificate proving her domestic status with then husband (?) Charlie Chaplin, along with the entrance of Miss Leigh into the “Scarlett” pool, was enough to dismiss any hopes of securing the role. The strength of her screen test, along with all the publicity the part generated for her, did however help her snag a long term contract with Paramount Pictures. (The clip above shows several screen and make-up tests for Paulette and others. The portion dealing with Goddard begins at about three minutes in.)

3.) While still in her teens, Goddard landed a job with the famous Ziegfeld Follies in New York. Half a decade later, she was one of the original troupe of Goldwyn Girls, along with Betty Grable and Lucille Ball. The irony is not lost on me, when as Miriam Aarons in the classic comedy The Women (1939), Goddard is asked about her days in the chorus and all the material baubles she‘d accumulated, she replies: “If you mean diamond bracelets and boxes of orchids, that breed died out just before my time.” But it hadn’t! In real life she was right in the thick of the “chorus girl” heyday.

4.) Cast often in Cecil B. deMille’s color spectacles of the 1940’s Paulette fell out of favor with the infamous adventure director during filming of 1947’s Unconquered. The following has been drawn from an earlier article I wrote about the making of that film.
“But the big stink regarding Goddard was her refusal to appear in the big “Siege on Fort Pitt” scene where real firebombs were being hurled about the set. DeMille, who demanded bravery and complete cooperation from his actors, under any circumstances, was livid at the actress, berating her in front of the entire cast and crew, but to no avail. Paulette’s stand-in did the scenes instead, and in an ironic twist, suffered minor burns, to which Goddard felt all the more vindicated. It was the last time the actress was in a Cecil B. DeMille production, being discounted by the director for the role eventually given to Gloria Grahame in his extravaganza, The Greatest Show on Earth (1952), a film she let DeMille know in no uncertain terms that she greatly wanted to be involved with.”

5.) Paulette Goddard had no children, although she miscarried in the mid 40’s while married to actor Burgess Meredith. Upon her death in Ronco, Switzerland, where she had retired, she left $20 million to New York University. As a result, Goddard Hall, a freshman residence dorm located on Washington Square is named in her honor.

Elizabeth Taylor: In Memoriam

2011-03-23T10:24:00.004-04:00

Movie legend Elizabeth Taylor has died at the age of 79. Arguably the biggest film icon, along with Marilyn Monroe, to come forth from the screen, Taylor was the much married, much publicized, much ridiculed and much loved star, known above all for her dark, sultry beauty.

Literal volumes have been written about Elizabeth Taylor, as there was a lot in her long and varied life to record. Born in Hampstead, England on February 27, 1932, she came to the United States and began her career as a child star. Her soft voice, violet eyes and dark good looks, set her apart from others and with National Velvet, made in 1944, she made a name for herself and a wad of dough for her studio, MGM. Unlike other child actors, she made the transition to adult roles almost seamlessly, due to her mature beauty at an early age (the girl looked like a goddess at 16 in A Date with Judy).

First married at 18 to hotel heir Nicky Hilton, she later married seven more times, twice to actor Richard Burton. Through them all, as well as her personal and public trials, tribulations and many health problems, the press followed her like a gossip hungry entourage. Heck, for an information hungry media, she was a veritable scandal buffet!

Not only a pretty face and name in the news, Taylor was also an Academy award winning actress. Her first Oscar came to her in 1960 for Butterfield 8 (some say as a consolation for nearly dying from pneumonia the previous year), her second for a much deserved performance with her then husband Burton in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf in 1966. In 1999, La Liz was appointed Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire. The title suited her.

Besides the afore mentioned films, Taylor appeared in such classics as Little Women (1948), the original Father of the Bride (1950), Giant (1956), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and the massive Cleopatra (1963) the mega-bomb in which she met and fell in lust/love with Burton and became the first actress to be paid $1 million for a single film. (The thing about Cleopatra is, despite its woeful reception by critics, it was the highest grossing picture of 1963, but due to its enormous production costs ~ it was set to cost $2 million, but ended up with a $44 million price tag ~ it lost millions). Love her or hate her, Elizabeth Taylor was a true movie star.

The Forest Rangers (1942): What Do You Get When You Cross Smoky the Bear with Max Factor?

2011-01-14T18:44:00.003-05:00

The Forest Rangers (1942) isn’t high drama, it isn’t supposed to be. It IS a sometimes comedy, sometimes action, always colorful yarn from Paramount with some of the studios top stars of the day, tromping around among mile high timbers, dodging the flames of a raging forest fire. Along with striking Technicolor, The Forest Rangers sports a catchy tune, “I’ve Got Spurs That Jingle Jangle Jingle”, written by Frank Loesser and Joseph J. Lilley, which became a big hit on the airwaves.

Fred MacMurray is the forest ranger, Susan Hayward is a fetching lumber mill owner, who has the hots for Freddie boy, while he meets, gets the hots for and marries even more fetching city girl Paulette Goddard. Redheaded wildcat Hayward doesn’t take too kindly to the new bride (like it’s any of her business) and gives girlie girl Goddard the wilderness once-over. Think along the lines of of Hayley Mill’s treatment of tenderfoot Joanna Barnes in The Parent Trap some twenty years later. Both remained perfectly coiffed and glossed while fighting fires and each other, and MacMurray remains his ever stoic, yet capable self.

According to the Hollywood Reporter, Madeline Carroll was originally to play Celia, the part Goddard ended up playing, and Goddard was to play Tana, the Hayward role. After seeing the film, and knowing the way Paramount worked such a treatment during this period, I could see the Carroll/Goddard combo working very nicely, even better than the finished product in fact, as Goddard had vivaciously conniving down pat (see Hold Back the Dawn (1941)).

Susan and Paulette had just come off the set of Cecil B. DeMille’s Reap the Wild Wind, so the two cuties were no strangers to sharing the screen and both did what was required of them in this lighthearted look at love in the lonesome pines. Also sharing the screen with the star trio was Eugene Pallette (always a rotund treat), Lynne Overman and Regis Toomey, who completes the love daisy chain as an airplane pilot who carries the torch (no pun intended….this time) for Hayward’s Tana.

24 Hours (1931): A Full Day with Hopkins & Francis

2010-11-21T23:48:00.009-05:00

Talented but temperamental actress Miriam Hopkins had the reputation of stealing scenes and chewing scenery throughout her prominent career. Her earliest days onscreen were no exception and as a bright and shiny new star at Paramount in the early 1930’s, she did not hide her light under a bushel. Making her film debut in 1930 in Fast and Loose with fellow Paramount pretty Carole Lombard ( Lombard had been in films for over half a decade by then), she had a hit in her second feature The Smiling Lieutenant (1931) co-starring movie novice Claudette Colbert. By her third film, she was the sure fire star of the show, even though Clive Brook and Kay Francis were billed above her. The film was called 24 Hours, and it was a prime example of pre-Code Paramount, with a great line-up of actors to boot.

Jim and Fanny Towner (Brook and Francis) are a wealthy yet bored couple who are each involved in an extramarital affair. Jim’s alcoholism doesn’t help the problem and he finds solace with his paramour Rosie Duggan (Hopkins), a brassy speak easy singer, who is married to a weak and neurotic small time hoodlum named Tony (Regis Toomey, whose 40 year screen career began the year before this film was made). Tony is on the skids after his wife has the bouncer at the club where she works, toss him out on his keyster. Later that evening, she carries the falling down drunk Jim home with her to see that he sleeps off his buzz. When Tony comes aknockin’ in the middle of the night, crazed look in his eyes, he accidentally kills the two-timing torch singer, while her sugar daddy is passed out in the other room. He beats it when he realizes what he’s done, as does Jim when he awakes the next morning and realizes he could be blamed for the chanteuse’s demise.

As much as a dramatic showcase 24 Hours is for Miriam Hopkins, Kay Francis has the tougher job of giving a more subtle yet still effective performance. To an extent she succeeds, but her character is written so that she has little more to do than look forlorn about the lack of love in both her marriage as well as her affair. Her dramatic glory days would come with her tenure at Warner Brothers a few years later, a working relationship that was both extremely profitable as well as turbulent for the raven haired star. British born Clive Brook worked in silent films for years and made the transition to sound successfully. He looks rather bored in the first half of this film, but I suppose that is his job, as he is bored with his life AND his wife. (Brook made a telling statement about his profession in America when he said: "Hollywood is a chain gang and we lose the will to escape. The links of the chain are not forged with cruelties but with luxuries."). Although given a small role, veteran stage actress Lucille LaVerne gives the audience a visual once-over as Tony’s slovenly and tough-as-nails landlady. I recognized immediately her voice as that of the old hag in Walt Disney’s animated masterpiece Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937). It was the last performance of her very lengthy career, and the one for which she is most associated, as the animators actually used the actress as a visual model for the crone.

Based on the novel Twenty-Four Hours by Louis Bromfield, the film is a lost gem, a part of Paramount’s film library, owned by Universal/MCA, most of which are unreleased to the general public. Copies aren’t easy to find and when they are, the quality sometimes has much to be desired, but if you do get a chance to gander the charms of the young Mesdames Hopkins and Francis, I’d jump at it.

What Am I Watching?: Well, I’ll Tell You

2010-11-18T15:28:00.007-05:00

Classic movies are obviously one of my favorite things (hence this venue for my passion), and although I write about various films and classic stars, there are so many other personal viewings whose good or bad aspects, as the case may be, don’t get recorded on this blog. There just isn’t enough time to write about them all as in depth as I might like. Having said that, I’d like to pass along a few films, recently viewed, but not shared.

The Great Man's Lady (1942)
Starring Barbara Stanwyck and Joel McCrea, with second lead going to Brian Donlevy, The Great Man’s Lady has a cast who can always deliver the cinematic goods. McCrea is the Great Man, Stanwyck, his lady. Babs ages from 16 to over 100 (pictured above), and lives a lot of life in between. Director William Wellman leaves his signature masculine touch, with plenty of rough and tumble historics mixed with emotional histrionics.

Stanwyck was made for this kind of role. She is part Stella Dallas, part Victoria Barkley. Some may wonder why she sacrifices so much for her “great man”, but that’s the nature of old Hollywood. Catch it if you can.

Le Corbeau (The Raven; 1943)
Director Henri-Georges Clouzot was known as “the French Hitchcock” and with good reason. Most famous for 1955’s Les Diaboliques, Clouzot shot Le Corbeau during the war and its somber mood and very adult themes reflect the conditions of his nation at the time. More a mystery than a suspense, the latter characteristic is always present.

Le Corbeau or The Raven is the signature used by a poison pen letter writer in a small French burg, whose main aggression is directed at a local doctor (Pierre Fresnay). The letters accuse, among many other things, the doctor of being an abortionist. Pretty frank topic during World War II, or anytime before the new millennium for that fact. The entire film is frank and extremely well made. Even if you aren’t into sub-titles, if you like film noir at all, I suggest you give this foreign flick a try, as it is very noirish in feel.

Four Frightened People (1934)
I don’t usually write about films that I didn’t really enjoy, but with this particular post, one takes the good with the bad. It’s not that Four Frightened People is particularly bad, it’s just not all that good. Directed by the gargantuan filmmaker Cecil B. DeMille, it did not even make back its cost and DeMille counted it one of his box office turkeys.

The story tells of four completely different types from the western world, who evacuate a ship off the Malayan coast, which has been striken with bubonic plague. They make their way to land only to be lost in the deepest jungle, to be hunted by nasty natives and even nastier attitudes among themselves. Think Survivor 1934.

Starring Claudette Colbert and Herbert Marshall, with support by William Gargan and Mary Boland, and made at Paramount, the film looks more like one of the studios attempts at a low grade B flick than a Cecil B. DeMille mega-production. But the thing that really got this blogger, was Claudette Colbert, who never disappoints. As a mousy, high strung old maid teacher (can you imagine!), she is anything but classic Colbert. Then she blossoms into a jungle maiden, wearing a sarong of giant banana leaves or leopard print, in full make-up and coiffure. We are talking Fredrick's of Hollywood in the middle of a jungle folks. But the classic Colbert would appear directly after this film was released, because it was then that she played her career changing Oscar winning role in It Happened One Night. One bright spot is Mary Boland. Looking like Paula Deen’s grandmother, Boland is a comic relief of sorts, a toned down version of her Countess DeLave from The Women (1939). I wouldn’t say “Don’t watch this”, as it is watchable but don’t expect a lot either.

There you have it. Rupert’s recent roster of raves and rants. Which leads me to ask, have YOU seen anything delightful or deplorable of late?

The Silver Cord (1933): Come to Mama

2010-11-14T20:48:00.005-05:00

Ah, motherhood. From Madame X to Stella Dallas, Marmee March to Mrs. Judge Hardy (her movie husband, Lewis Stone, even called her “Mother”), the institution of motherhood in Hollywood during the golden age could verge on the sanctimonious and saccharine. That, however, was just one end of the maternal meter. If one goes to the other extreme, they find silly, self serving women, Mommies Dearest to the nth degree. The cinematic grandmaMA to these characters (or even great-grandmaMA, as our subject is an early talkie) would have to be Mother Phelps in RKO’s The Silver Cord (1933).

Based on a play which had a successful run on Broadway in 1926, The Silver Cord is the story of a woman who, by all outward appearances, adores her two grown sons (Joel McCrea and Eric Linden). But as we begin to realize, barely before Mrs. Phelps (her first name is never mentioned) gets her coat off in her first scene, this woman is a manipulative, conniving, self centered barracuda, who, upon meeting her new daughter-in-law (Irene Dunne) for the first time, marks her line in the sand as to where her son’s loyalties should lie! Also present is her younger son’s fiancee (Frances Dee). Matriarch Phelps is ready to devour Dunne, limbs and all, as the main course and finish off Dee, as the lighter, easier to digest dessert, albeit under the guise of sugar-laden maternal concern for her ”big young things.” Dunne’s character, Christina, is a scientist; bright, modern and intelligent and has no intention of giving up her new husband (McCrea) to “another woman” as she calls his mother.

The Silver Cord is a Freudian film fantasy. There is no end to Mrs. Phelps’ mouth kissing both her sons, cleaving them to her ample bosom and having them lay their heads in her always waiting lap. She even admits romantic attachment for them (though verbally falling short of declaring lust) after she discovered her marriage to their father was a loveless one. No woman will ever be good enough for them because no woman is her.

The entire cast is spot on in their portrayal of various members or potential members of this very dysfunctional tribe, headed by Mama Smother Me Not performed with great relish by stage veteran Laura Hope Crews. Crews played the role in the stage version and was a natural when the story came to the screen. Best known as the fluttery spinster Aunt Pittypat Hamilton in the epic Gone with the Wind, Crews channels the same fidgety anxiousness displayed in her Pittypat for Mrs. Phelps, only tempering her flamboyance with a steely resolve to have her own way regarding her offspring.

The apples of her eye, David and Robert, are played by handsome up and comer Joel McCrea and Eric Linden, respectively. The major lack of continuity in character seems to lie with McCrea, whose David makes light of his mother’s fussy cuddling and (wo)man-handling him in the film’s first half, yet defends her against his bride (unfounded, of course) in the second. Linden’s Robert is a spineless “effete” rounder who has no problem being tied tightly with his mothers apron strings. These mama’s boys are whooped! The lovely Frances Dee is splendid as his fiancee, Hester, whose defiance of her would-be viper-in-law brings cheers from the audience. She has one of the best lines in the picture. When asked what she will do by Robert after they have broken their engagement, Dee replies: “Marry an orphan.“ She and McCrea (pictured together below) would become romantically involved off screen during the making of the film, marry and remain so for 57 years until McCrea’s death in 1990.

Star billing went to the sublime Irene Dunne. As Christina, she gives as good as she gets, better in most cases, when going rounds with the monstrous dowager. The role was considered for both Katharine Hepburn and Ann Harding before RKO cast Dunne. Not the mega star she would be later in the decade, Dunne’s grace and sophistication shone through in this pre-code soaper. She would have several collaborations with the film’s director John Cromwell including 1946’s Anna and the King of Siam.

The Silver Cord is very much a filmed play, with lengthy stretches of dialogue by both Hope Crews and Dunne, but it packs quite a wallop in its 74 minute time frame. It would make a great double feature with Craig’s Wife.

Claude Rains: A Man for All Seasons

2010-11-10T10:41:00.004-05:00

London born and stage trained, Claude Rains was an exceptional actor equally adept at whimsical roles as he was in heavy drama. He made his mark in his very first Hollywood film, The Invisible Man (1933), his unmistakable voice doing most of the work. He signed on with Warner Brothers studio where his performances graced many of Hollywood’s greatest and best known classics. Warners cast him with its biggest stars at the peak of their careers and in many of their definitive films; The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) with Errol Flynn, Now, Voyager (1942) with Bette Davis and Casablanca (1943) with Humphrey Bogart.

Although rarely the lead, his characters were pivotal and always unforgettable. As Prince John in Flynn’s Robin Hood, he created one of the screen’s great villains. Wearing a heavily banged page boy bob, Rains preening prince planned and plotted only to be foiled in the end by the Prince of Thieves. Along with his role as the wise and knowing Dr. Jackwith in Now, Voyager, he also starred with Davis in Mr. Skeffington (1944) and Deception (1946). The two actors complemented one another perfectly and Rains was one of the actress’ favorite co-stars. The grande dame of the Warners’ lot even went as far to say he was “He was a pip! The best!”

The actor gave a powerful performance as a corrupt senator opposite James Stewart in Frank Capra’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) and yet another as a sinister Fascist leader in Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious (1946), although it’s debatable whether he or his characters mother is more evil in the latter.

He continued working into the 1960’s and also continued his stage work, winning a Tony Award in 1951. Well respected by his peers, Rains was nominated for the Academy Award four times, though never winning the coveted prize.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) DVD
Casablanca (1943) DVD

Claude Rains: An Actor's Voice ~ David J. Skal and Jessica Rains

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Ann Rutherford: Polly Benedict and MORE!

2010-10-31T19:43:00.005-04:00

“There was a quality about Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer that was so special . . . it was just the most exciting studio in the world. They looked after their people so perfectly. And then to go to a place [20th Century-Fox] where you don't know anybody and they don't know you and they don't give a rip, it was not a happy time. I got so ticked off, I got married!” ~ Ann Rutherford

Ann Rutherford will be 90 on Tuesday! An elegant dark haired beauty who graced many classic movies from Hollywood’s hey day, Ann was a prime example of the old Hollywood star system. Making her first film at the age of twenty, she soon was signed to MGM, the glittering super studio of Hollywood at the time. Groomed as one of its prime starlets, she appeared as the Ghost of Christmas Past in Metro’s holiday favorite, A Christmas Carol alongside Reginald Owen and Gene Lockhart. But it was as Polly Benedict in the studio’s wildly popular “Andy Hardy” series, that she became famous and steadily employed for nearly half a decade. As Polly, Andy’s (Mickey Rooney) best girlfriend, Ann had to often share Andy, and screen time, with other up and coming starlets who were being promoted by the studio. These comely lasses included Lana Turner, Esther Williams, Kathryn Grayson and Donna Reed.

Landing juicy roles in youth oriented films at MGM in the late 30’s (most noticeably Dramatic School (1938) and These Glamour Girls (1939), Rutherford was cast by David O. Selznick in his mega hit, Gone with the Wind (1939), as Scarlett O’Hara’s baby sister Careen. The role was briefly considered to be offered to teen-aged Judy Garland, but her light was about to shine very brightly in The Wizard of Oz later that same year.

In the early 1940’s, Rutherford left Metro and worked as a freelance actress, with some success at 20th Century-Fox. In Orchestra Wives (1942), she played Connie, who falls in love and marries trumpet player Bill Abbott (George Montgomery) much to the chagrin of his fellow band member and lead singer Jaynie (the lovely and ever conniving Lynn Bari). She went on to even more memorable roles particularly in the “Whistling” series with Red Skelton back at MGM and as Danny Kaye’s fiancee in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947), but retired from films in 1950. She returned in the 1970’s for a couple more big screen roles and was considered for the role of older Rose in James Cameron’s huge cinematic spectacle Titanic (1997), a role that eventually was played by Gloria Stuart.

Footlight Parade (1933): Jimmy Cagney, the Hoofer

2010-09-24T10:42:00.005-04:00

With 42nd Street and Gold Diggers of 1933 (both 1933), Warner Brothers studio had tapped into a treasure trove of entertainment for Depression weary audiences, longing for escapist fare of the highest caliber. With these fluffy film musicals, they had just that, lots of singing, lots of dancing and spectacular kaleidoscopic choreography by master showman Busby Berkley. Striking while the iron was red hot, Warners produced Footlight Parade, a cookie cutter copy of the previous shows, before the year was out. Although not exactly the same plot, the similarities were enough to continue the successful streak for Berkley and the studio.

The plot, such as it is, revolves around the flailing career of New York stage director Chester Kent (movie tough guy James Cagney), who, in an attempt to save his struggling production company, develops “prologues”, live musical introductions to the newly popular talking pictures. As his financial woes mount, his shrewish, shallow wife demands a divorce, his competitor steals his ideas (with the help of an insider from his troupe), and his partners are swindling him of his share of the profits; add to this mix a gold-digging tootsie who latches on to his coattails when it appears he is on his way up again and you have a whirlwind of screen activity with Cagney chewing it up like it was a steak and baked potato. By his side the entire time and helping him at every turn, is his devoted and enamored secretary Nan (the incomparable Joan Blondell, at her cutest and wise-cracking snappiest).

Cagney had become a big star at Warners, along with Edward G. Robinson, as the resident grande gangster, after his breakthrough hit The Public Enemy two years earlier. But the actor had started out on the stage as a song and dance man and took this opportunity to flaunt his hoofing skills to great success. It is in this capacity and genre that he would win an Academy Award nine years later as George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy. In Footlight Parade, Cagney is a firecracker of activity, shooting rapid fire dialogue as quickly as he does a machine gun in his gangster/hoodlum pictures.

Blondell, also a Warners staple, is a scene stealer as Nan. Standing by her man throughout the whole film (even when Cagney doesn’t realize he’s her man), she sticks up for the underdog/good guy (encouraging Chester to hire talented dancer/stenographer Ruby Keeler) and protects those she loves from harm (ie: pretty but conniving Claire Dodd from bossman Cagney). Along with the two leads, Footlight Parade features the fresh faces of crooner Dick Powell and the afore mentioned Keeler, who made a dynamic duo in the year’s previous two Berkley hits.

The film is pre-Code, the time before Hollywood censorship took a stronghold, and some of its racier dialogue was sliced and diced from re-release dates after the Code took effect. However, it was restored in 1970, so today, we can enjoy a classic Blondell sniping to her gold-digging rival for Cagney’s affections: “Out countess…as long as there are sidewalks, you’ll have a job.” Other elements that post-Code films wouldn’t have gotten away with were scantily clad chorines in a the bathing beauty extravaganza “By a Waterfall.” As a matter of fact, all the musical numbers in the film’s finale have daring themes to say the least. The charming “Honeymoon Hotel” routine shows a newlywed couple (Powell and Keeler) trying to enjoy their matrimonial amour without the constant interruptions that ensue, including an odd and ribald baby played by dwarf Billy Barty. In the final number, “Shanghai Lil”, Cagney is a sailor, looking for his lost love in the bordellos and opium dens of the Orient. It is a bizarre and surreal concept and even more unusual is the introduction of Keeler’s Lil. Unlike the debauchery and wanton behavior going on around her, Keeler, as Cagney’s Asian gal pal, is cute and perky. From the rest of the performers in the bit, one would expect Marlene Dietrich to show up as the infamous Lil. However, it is nonetheless a fabulous piece of film extravagance set to music.

Fast, furious and complete fun, Footlight Parade, like its toe tapping cousins, 42nd Street and Gold Diggers, was a success and continued the trend at Warners fondly known as the “backstage musical”. The string would continue the following year with another installment of the “Gold Diggers” films, Dames and Wonder Bar.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
Footlight Parade (1933) DVD
Joan Blondell: A Life Between Takes ~ Matthew Kennedy

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Fallen Angel (1945): Fox Film Noir

2010-09-09T11:14:00.006-04:00

With Laura (1944), 20th-Century Fox had a certified hit, both commercially and critically. Stylish and sexy, it also certified full fledged stardom for it’s leading lady, Gene Tierney, and propelled the status of it’s director, Otto Preminger. As always in Hollywood, the studio was eager to build on and duplicate the success of a film by using similar elements to potentially create a new one. This was the case with Fallen Angel, produced the year after the Tierney success. Laura’s male star, Dana Andrews was cast in the lead and Preminger assigned as it’s director.

Unlike Laura, the characters in Fallen Angel aren’t glamorous and wealthy eastern urbanites with razor sharp wit. They are denizens of a small podunk hamlet on the California coast. Although the characters reside on both sides of the tracks, the main focus is on the seedier “wrong” side. Down on his luck drifter Eric Stanton (Andrews) is kicked off a night bus bound for San Francisco, for lack of payment, landing in the burg of Walton, population 23 (an exaggeration, but it is a small, slow moving town). Drowning his sorrows in a cuppa joe at a late night diner, he happens upon Stella (luscious Linda Darnell); waitress, leggy lovely and local slut. As mercenary as she is beautiful, Stella, as Eric discovers within ten minutes of film footage, has a penchant for picking up admirers as quickly and handily as she does the day’s blue plate special.

Impetuous boy that Eric is, 24 hours later, he finds that he’s fallen head over heels with our girl Stella. She on the other hand has other plans. Being burned by Johnny-Come-Latelys before, she wants more than a chop suey dinner and a good time. Determined to give the sultry hash slinger the material possessions she craves, Eric sets his sights on local spinster June Mills (Alice Faye), attractive and financially well off. The plan: Marry June, grab her dough and take off with his viperous vixen. But when Stella is found murdered, Eric finds a target on his back.

Not only was Fallen Angel supposed to follow in the successful, noir-ish footsteps of Laura, but it was also supposed to be the dramatic debut of film songstress, Alice Faye. Longtime Fox musical star, Faye wanted to take her career in a different direction and was excited when her boss, head of Fox, Darryl F. Zanuck, chose this for her dramatic break-out (Olivia de Havilland and new Fox lovely Jeanne Crain were also considered for the role. DeHavilland specifically might have done well in it, as she successfully played a similar role in Paramount’s Hold Back the Dawn, two years earlier). Although not a flop, the film didn’t come close to the box-office powerhouse, Laura had been, and Faye was very unhappy with the way the film had been edited. After visiting the screening room to see the final product, she reportedly left the studio and retired from films (she would return to both films and Fox in 1962 for a remake of State Fair, in a secondary mother role).

Dana Andrews was riding a career high, starring in the aforementioned Laura, the hugely popular ‘45 version of State Fair, and headlined the following year’s Oscar winning Best Picture, The Best Years of Our Lives. But the big winner in Fallen Angel was Linda Darnell. Based on her strong performance in Hangover Square, also released in 1945, she was cast yet again as a dark vamp and the persona suited her. Her early roles had consisted of very young and virginal ingenue parts, but as the middle of the decade approached, she began being cast as naughty girls and her dark good looks only enhanced her burgeoning sexpot image. Stella can actually be viewed as a precursor to her acclaimed role as beautiful gold-digger, Lora Mae Hollingsway in the highly successful A Letter to Three Wives (1949). According to Darnell biographer Ronald L. Davis, there was even talk about an Oscar nomination for her performance in Angel.

Famed playwright Tennessee Williams recommended the movie, albeit denouncing the “awful” title, but the overall impression was that it just didn’t live up to it’s expectations. The fast pace of the relationships were inane, with Andrew’s character falling madly in love with a loose woman, meeting and marrying an upstanding lady and attempting to bilk her of her fortune, all in a very small town, and all in less than a week. But the noir elements, overall good performances by not only the three principals but also fine character actors, Charles Bickford, Anne Revere, Bruce Cabot and Percy Kilbride, and striking cinematography by Joseph LaShelle, make for a film from the golden age that can be enjoyed, if not wholly believed.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
Fallen Angel (1945) DVD
Hollywood Beauty: Linda Darnell and the American Dream ~ Ronald L. Davis

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Lana Turner: Birth of a Starlet, Part 2

2010-08-05T18:08:00.007-04:00

Note: The first part of this two part article can be found here.

As far as party girls go, Lindsay Lohan had nothing on Lana Turner in the early 1940’s (well, accept arrests and rehab time). With her perky nose, dancing dimples and honey blonde hair, the gorgeous “Sweater Girl” was on the top of the Hollywood heap, both socially and professionally. Although she was still technically a starlet, her career was on the rise, which only heated up her love life all the more.

Her wild woman reputation would only be enhanced by her whirlwind four month marriage to bandleader Artie Shaw (pictured below), a notorious ladies man, who jilted both Betty Grable and a young and impressionable Judy Garland for Turner. Eloping after their first date, the 29 year-old lothario and the sweater girl (who had just turned 19 earlier that week) had a tumultuous time of it and Lana famously called her tenure with Shaw her “college education.” The irony is that Turner claims that she married Shaw on the rebound from yet another infamous Hollywood wolf, attorney Greg Bautzer. Bautzer ditched her for Joan Crawford (Bautzer would be portrayed by actor Steve Forrest in 1981’s Mommie Dearest). He would not only represent her in her divorce from Shaw, but also in her split from second husband, restaurateur Stephen Crane. And so goes the fast and furious Hollywood sexual Merry-Go-Round.

With her divorce came a new crop of men and nightclub rounds. Victor Mature and singer Tony Martin were just a few who squired the blonde beauty around town. MGM took the opportunity of Turner’s burgeoning notoriety to cast her in Ziegfeld Girl (1941) with fellow studio beauty Hedy Lamarr and fellow studio cutie Garland. As Sheila Hale, top banana in a sea of legs and sequins that only the great showman Florenz Ziegfeld could display properly, Lana tumbled and stumbled in yet another kind of sea…..booze and men. The hit film played as a precursor of sorts to 1967’s Valley of the Dolls, and allowed Turner melodramatic training which, not only boosted her career at the time, but would hold her in good stead twenty some odd years later in her middle aged diva stage (ie: Peyton Place (1957), Imitation of Life (1959) and Madame X (1966)).

Her next picture was the big budget remake of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which placed her at third billing after Spencer Tracy and Ingrid Bergman. Originally slated to play the slutty victim of Mr. Hyde, she was cast as the good girl in love with Dr. Jekyll, when Miss Bergman, set to play that role, wanted a change of pace and requested their parts be switched. With the success of Ziegfeld Girl, Metro cast her with the studio’s top male star, the King himself, Clark Gable, in a western/romance called Honky Tonk (1941). Mrs. Gable, aka Carole Lombard, reportedly didn’t like the film pairing, believing the kisses during the fade out might linger after the cameras stopped rolling. Rumors swirled to that notion, though Turner stated, both in a Ladies Home Journal article, as well as her autobiography, that no such affair took place.

Yet another case of alleged extramarital cuddling occurred during the filming of Johnny Eager (1942) with another MGM heavyweight heartthrob, Robert Taylor. The films promotional ads read: "Taylor's Johnny, Turner's eager." Married to actress Barbara Stanwyck at the time, Taylor reportedly was so smitten with Turner that he asked Stanwyck for a divorce. As with the rumored Gable affair, Lana also denied any wrongdoing with Bob Taylor. The onscreen chemistry was definitely there, as it was with Gable and tongues continued to wag when she and Gable were cast yet again in Somewhere I’ll Find You (1942), and it was during the filming of this picture that Carole Lombard was killed in a plane crash while on a war bond selling tour. The following year, Turner starred in a picture called Slightly Dangerous.

By the end of the war, Lana Turner was a hot property, both on and off screen. No film could display this sexy femme fatale persona better than the one for which the actress would become most famous, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946). As a tanned and tempting married waitress on the make, she would forever brand her image, wearing a stark white two piece short set and matching turban. She would have several more husbands in the next 25 years and many other big roles, but this part defined her sex goddess persona for the rest of the decade and most of the next one. The starlet had become a star.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
Ziegfeld Girl (1941) DVD
The Golden Girls of MGM: Greta Garbo, Joan Crawford, Lana Turner, Judy Garland, Ava Gardner, Grace Kelly and Others ~ Jane Ellen Wayne

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

The Hard Way (1943): Forgotten Gem

2010-07-26T14:46:00.006-04:00

The Hard Way could be a description of actress Ida Lupino’s career. Called by some a “poor man’s Bette Davis (a moniker shared by Susan Hayward), Lupino was a star in her own right, possessing a very distinctive style and consistently giving top notch performances. However, attaining her major success at Warner Brothers in the early and mid 1940’s, she was sometimes required to take some of Davis’ cast off roles, Bette being the queen of the Warner’s lot during this period. One such Davis hand-me-down was the meaty lead character of Helen Chernen in The Hard Way (1943), which Lupino deftly handled. She gave a tour de force portrayal and gained much acclaim including the New York Film Critics Circle Award for Best Actress of 1943.

Helen Chernen is a woman living in near poverty in a lifeless, stifling, dirty coal mining town. Trapped in a loveless marriage to boot, her only ray of hope is her teen-aged sister, Katie (Joan Leslie). Helen sees an opportunity for the moderately talented Katie, when the youngster catches the eye of a traveling vaudevillian, Albert Runkel (Jack Carson), who is passing through the shabby little burg with his show biz partner, Paul Collins (Dennis Morgan). The elder sister pushes for their marriage, then slowly integrates Katie into the Runkel/Collins act until bigger fish come along to fry. Katie becomes a huge success leaving the lovelorn Albert behind, but success via her sister Helen, she finds, isn’t so sweet when you go about it the hard way, or should I say the wrong way.

The film, written by famed playwright and author Irving Shaw, is reportedly based loosely on the early life of actress Ginger Rogers, specifically her relationships with her stage mother Lela and her first husband, vaudeville performer Jack Pepper. The movie even makes reference to Rogers by name and when the character of Katie makes big in her first Broadway show, the production is called “Boy Crazy” (as opposed to Ginger’s first successful foray, “Girl Crazy”).

Ida Lupino is superb as Helen. Underrated and often overlooked in the annals of Hollywood history, the actress displays in The Hard Way, as well as other films, an inner toughness and resolve, to get her way, whatever the cost. She is not alone in contributing a fine performance however, with the entire cast turning in solid work. Jack Carson gives perhaps his finest dramatic display as the good hearted but ill-treated Albert. He and Dennis Morgan would co-star in several other Warners features, but none so artistically successful as this. Not to say this is high art. It is basically what was known at the time as a “woman’s picture” with hints of film noir, very similar in many ways to Mildred Pierce, also produced at Warner Brothers two years later. In fact, producer Jerry Wald used the opening sequence of Ida Lupino dressed to the nines and jumping into the bay as the basis for the opening in Pierce.

Aside from Miss Lupino, the two second lady roles went to the afore mentioned Miss Leslie and veteran actress Gladys George, who was a staple at Warners and other studios in bedraggled dame roles or the moll with the heart of gold. Gladys’ characters had lived a lot of life and seen a lot of sadness. Her role here, as a has-been stage actress who drowns her sorrows in a bottle of whatever is at hand, is no different. Joan Leslie is the only proverbial fly in the ointment in The Hard Way. Not that she doesn’t do an adequate job, but one finds it extremely hard to believe that, as Katherine Blaine, she is a great shining beacon on the New York stage. Her Katherine can be downright lackluster at times, especially beside the scenery chewing Lupino! However, with the help of make up guru Perc Westmore and gowns and get-ups by designer Orry-Kelly, she goes from small town gum chewer to sophisticated stage star quite smoothly, and considering her youth (Leslie was only seventeen at the time of filming), she keeps her head above water with the stalwart Warner Brothers stock company. The entire ensemble is really good, but Ida Lupino is the one you can’t take your eyes off, and shouldn’t, as you might find a knife in your back.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
Ida Lupino: A Biography by William Donati

If you are interested in this or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Beauty and the Beast (1946): Enter Cocteau's Dream

2010-07-18T16:18:00.005-04:00

To put it simply, director Jean Cocteau’s 1946 version of Beauty and the Beast (La Belle et la Bête) is sheer genius. The film is a masterpiece of celluloid and no other fairy tale put to film is as artistically stunning (The Wizard of Oz may be an exception, but Cocteau’s French chef d'oeuvre has an ethereal quality that even Oz can’t touch). It is exquisite in every detail, visually sumptuous with an equally impressive and lavish musical score by composer Georges Auric. Cocteau, a highly intelligent and creative individual, who cavorted with the likes of Pablo Picasso and Edith Piaf, pulled out all the stops to actualize the famed fairy tale. His dreamlike classic would inspire the Walt Disney animated version of the same name 45 years later.

The story revolves around the characters of Belle, a beautiful, kind and humble French girl and The Beast, a magical, physically hideous creature. When Belle’s father gets lost in the forest while on a journey, he happens upon an other worldly like estate, a chateau of mystical essence. After partaking of the hospitality of an invisible host, the man wakes the next morning to wander the grounds looking for his horse and continue homeward. In the garden of the estate, he finds a magnificent rose and plucks said flower for his daughter. This gesture of affection awakens the rage of his host, now making his presence known as the Beast. For this infraction, the Beast commands that he shall have to pay with his life, unless one of his daughters come in his stead. Of his four children, the old man has a shiftless, irresponsible son named Ludevic and two vain and abrasive daughters, Felicie and Adelaide. His third daughter is the lovely and selfless Belle, for whom he picked the rose. The last of the characters in Cocteau’s version is the handsome but erratic Avenant, who is in love with Belle.

When the father arrives back home, fatigued and ill, he tells his tale to his amazed family. Belle, wishing to save her father from any potential harm, sneaks out and rides the magic horse which was provided by the Beast, as the means for return to his world. Once she has reached her strange destination, Belle is both frightened and astonished at the fantastical residence. When she meets the beast face to face, she is horrified by his countenance. The Beast on the other hand is enchanted by Belle’s beauty and asks her to marry him. Initially repelled by the offer, as her time in the Beast’s company progresses, she befriends him and persuades him to allow her to return to her father, who she discovers is deathly ill. The Beast reluctantly agrees, on the terms that his beloved return within a week, on her honor. He informs her that should she fail to come back, he will die of grief.

As both the film's director and writer, Cocteau’s vision is brought vividly to life onscreen long before high tech special effects were even considered in film making. The gallery of living candelabras, Belle’s diamond tears, her enchanted mirror and the fireplace mantle carved with faces whose eyes watch every movement around them are just a few of the fascinating examples of the director’s creativity come to life. His use of quick cutting between scenes, abruptly ending one scene and immediate entrance into the next, as opposed to a slow fade out, enhances the surreal effect of the picture. As an American watching the film, the French language, fluid and alien to me except for a few scattered words, also lends to the hypnotic production. Famed French designer Christian Bérard, was in charge of production design and acclaimed cinematographer Henri Alekan the gorgeous black and white photography.

As both the Beast and Avenant, French matinee idol Jean Marais does a wonderful job projecting the pathos of the Beast, as well as the pompous virility of Avenant. Marais met director Jean Cocteau in 1937. The two became lovers and Marais, Cocteau’s protegee. The director guided the young actor to become one of France’s most popular stars in the 1940’s and 50’s, with their best collaborations, being this film, as well as Orpheus (1949). French actress Josette Day is luminous as Belle. Each of her shots accentuate her beauty and elegance on film and she displays the grace of a ballet dancer, whether in her scenes at the family’s provincial homestead or the Beast’s palace. Unfortunately for the French movie industry, Day retired from films only 4 years after La Belle et la Bête at the age of 36. As for the supporting cast, mention must be made for the performances of Mila Parély and Nane Germon as Belle’s viperous and hateful sisters. These two nasty wenches could give Cinderella’s step siblings a major run for their money.

Beauty and the Beast is a masterwork indeed. But be warned, there is no Ma and Pa Kettle Go to the Fair here. It is a work of supremely skilled artistry with both style and substance, and excellence from all involved. For a foreign film novice, it’s a perfect foray into the genre and a delight to all who make the leap.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
Beauty and the Beast ~ The Criterion Collection (DVD)

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Pre-Code Barbara Stanwyck: You've Got the Cutest Little "Baby Face"

2010-07-14T15:19:00.007-04:00

Raw, gutsy and independent, Barbara Stanwyck was a “brawd” in the truest sense of the word and one of the best examples that Hollywood had to offer. This tough dame persona, which ran rampant in classics like Double Indemnity (1944), The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946) and a variety of westerns in the 1950’s, found its roots in the actress’ pre-code movies of the early 1930’s. While many of her contemporaries tried to speak with a pseudo-British accent, a common trait as part of actor's film diction training by various studios (MGM was the worst), Stanwyck not only spoke in her native Brooklyn-ese, but wore it as a badge of honor. Among other things it made her stand out from the pack of young actresses who seemed bound for stardom in the early days of talkies.

In the period of Hollywood history known as the pre-code era (the time in the early 1930’s before the Production Censorship Code was put into strict enforcement), Stanwyck’s roles stood out as some of the most notable and brazen. Along with Mae West’s early cinematic romps, Stanwyck’s racy Baby Face (1933), helped pave the way for a tighter hold by Hollywood censors later in the decade. Her husky, knowing voice not only betrayed her Brooklyn roots, but revealed in her roles of this period, an earthy, wanton past. Her characters had been around the block, and if they hadn’t, they wanted to.

Her screen image in the Thirties was that of a self-sacrificing mother or a tramp, either with a heart of gold or cold and hard, with the capacity of redemption. Some of her film’s plots during this interval were contrived and hard to swallow, such as The Purchase Price (1932) and Ladies They Talk About (1933), but Stanwyck’s performance always shined and made otherwise unbelievable situations extremely entertaining. She possessed similar screen traits to one of her screen peers at MGM during the same time, Joan Crawford. Like Crawford, she was often cast as a lower class young woman scraping her way in a man’s world. Just as Joan was the eternal shopworn shopgirl in her pre-code films, Barbara actually starred in a film titled Shopworn (1932). But unlike Crawford, Stanwyck was more hard boiled. She could play not only a gangster’s moll but the gangster, and she had no qualms when it came to revenge. Also unlike Crawford, who was, and wanted to be, iron clad contracted with her studio, Stanwyck had non-exclusive contracts with both Columbia AND Warner Brothers during a time when the studio ruled. Talk about gutsy.

Barbara Stanwyck’s real life past lent a certain credence to her onscreen performances. Born in Brooklyn in 1907 as Ruby Stevens, she was orphaned at a very young age and was cast about in several foster homes until eventually hitting the stage as a teen and becoming a chorus girl. Mind you, a chorus girl in the 1920’s was not exactly a Little Bo Peep existence. She met and married Frank Fay, a popular vaudeville star and followed him to Hollywood, where she got a less than auspicious start in movies. Her first two features were duds, and discouraged and distraught, she went, on recommendation of Columbia Studio boss Harry Cohn, to see director Frank Capra about a picture he was casting called Ladies of Leisure (1930). Capra thought Stanwyck “sullen” and she left the interview prematurely. But after viewing a test she had made for another film, the director wanted her in his picture and the two became great friends with Capra saying of the actress in his autobiography, “In a Hollywood popularity contest, she would win first prize hands down.” A notion shared my many in the film community for years to come.

In Ladies of Leisure, the actress plays a “party girl”. In her next film, Illicit (1930), as if the title wasn’t titillating enough, she plays a girl who wants to live with her lover outside of marriage (this is 1930 we’re talking here). Forbidden (1932), shows her as a sexually repressed librarian who throws caution to the wind and becomes the mistress of a married man, even having his child out of wedlock. Ladies They Talk About (1933), she winds up in a women’s prison. These kinds of roles and ones similar to them, were a prevailing theme in Stanwyck’s early work. Bouncing back and forth between Columbia with roles in early Capra films and Warner Brothers, the actress made great career strides eventually gaining full fledged stardom. The culmination of this bad girl image arguably came in the form of Baby Face, the deliciously decadent diatribe which helped push Hollywood censors over the edge.

Baby Face features Stanwyck as Lily Powers, product of a grimy factory town where her bootlegging father has been pimping her out since she was 14. When he is killed she heads for the big city to make her mark. Starting from the ground floor, she literally sleeps her way to the top in a large metro bank, where she eventually becomes the mistress of the vice president then marries the banks newly elected president (George Brent). The film’s imagery of Stanwyck’s ascent to material wealth is priceless. With each corporate conquest (one of which is played by young pre-stardom John Wayne, pictured above), the camera pans further upward the exterior of a New York skyscraper, which represents the bank in which she intends to prevail, all to the sound of St. Louis Blues on the saxophone. How pre-code is that.

Even in her more tame film efforts after the enforcement of the censorship code, Barbara Stanwyck’s tenacity and vitality shined through. She went on to make better known and glossier pictures, but the seed had been planted in her early days. In these pre-code offerings of sin, seduction and self-sacrifice, Stanwyck showed she not only had what it took, but knew exactly how to use it.

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
The TCM Archives ~ Forbidden Hollywood Collection, Vol. 1 (which features Baby Face)
Pre-Code Hollywood: Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema; 1930-1934 by Thomas Doherty
If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

The 39 Steps (1935): Hitchcock Breaks Through

2010-07-11T00:15:00.005-04:00

“If it's a good movie, the sound could go off and the audience would still have a perfectly clear idea of what was going on.” ~ Alfred Hitchcock

This statement by Hitchcock sums up perfectly his attitude about directing the film that really made the public sit up and take notice of his talent, both in England and the United States. It is the inspiration for his creative, yet very straightforward direction of The 39 Steps (1935), a movie still revered today for its masterful style and pacing. It’s been remade more than once, but none have begun to touch the Hitchcock bravura.

As the film begins, in an English music hall, the mood is very raucous and lighthearted, and one wonders where the trademark Alfred Hitchcock suspense will enter in. That alone makes it exciting, because you know it will, just not where and how. But enter it does and with both a vengeance and the director’s panache. The featured act at the theater is a novelty called “Mr. Memory”, a fellow who is a walking encyclopedia and as he is spouting his wisdom to the jeering crowd a shot is heard, leading to mass hysteria. Richard Hannay (Robert Donat) is a Canadian visiting London, who gets caught up in the frantic hustle bustle to find an exit. In all the pandemonium, he meets a mysterious foreign lady who nervously persuades him to take her back to his lodging. Turns out Miss Mata Hari is a secret agent, being sought out by a couple of nasties who are scoping out Hannay’s building. Our hero Hannay thinks she’s not exactly on the up and up at first, but quickly sees which way the wind is blowing when the spy falls upon him in the night with a knife in her back. With a dead body in his place and knowledge passed on to him by the mysterious mademoiselle, he takes it on the lamb with both the police and foreign agents on his tail.

He goes from one scrape to another, and eventually meets up with a blonde maiden fair (Madeleine Carroll), who, thinking him the murdering monster he has been painted by the newspapers, holds only contempt for him, and when they become handcuffed by “the bad guys”, Hannay has a hard time, keeping one step away from capture while trying to keep the wild beauty from surrendering him.

The success of Hitchcock’s previous release, his original version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) allowed him more freedom in his next cinematic venture. The 39 Steps was based on a spy yarn from 1915 by Scotsman John Buchan, though the director made the story his own. For film buffs and historians, the picture marks the first of a few oft used Hitchcockian themes, the most relevant being that of the “innocent man on the run” which was duplicated again in Saboteur (1942) and North by Northwest (1959), among others. Another is his casting of Madeleine Carroll, a beautiful and cool blonde leading lady, and a precursor to icy fair hairs Grace Kelly and Tippi Hedren in several of his 50’s and 60’s films. Carroll’s character, Pamela, wasn’t actually in the original novel and both the character and the potential romantic element she brings to the story were successfully added by the formidable director.

The film offers Hitch a chance to display his mastery of his craft, as well as the creative use of the camera. He claimed that with The 39 Steps, he wanted each scene to be like a short film unto itself and indeed he achieved quite the effect to culminate the whole as a quick and smoothly paced film. Upon finding the body of the initial female spy in Hannay’s flat, an elderly charwoman screams in close-up, her scream not from her own vocal chords, but the sound of a train whistle which is segued into the next scene of a railway. It is a three second spot, but very chilling and effective.

A well known episode from the film is that of Hannay making his way to a remote farm while on the run and asking the farmer to put him up for the night. The farmer, a strict and extremely pious old coot has a much younger wife, who finds the handsome and urbane Hannay attractive, and helps him escape when the police track him to the farm. This is yet another scene which was absent from the original book but developed for the screen. The vignette, although pertinent to the rest of the movie, is a short story in itself.

Carroll’s casting as Pamela is perfectly complemented by Robert Donat’s Hannay. The actor had just hit it big the previous year in The Count of Monte Cristo and had become fondly known as “the Monte Cristo man”. The 39 Steps added to his growing repertoire of quality films, and led him to MGM in the States to make The Citadel (1938) and Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939), the latter for which he won an Academy Award. The suave Brit exudes just the right amount of energy, humor and intelligence to make him a very worthy Hitchcockian hero. With fine support by Lucie Mannheim, Godfrey Tearle and Peggy Ashcroft, the film is superbly cast.

Atmospheric, humorous and exciting, The 39 Steps is definitely a must-see. There is a lot to transpire in the movies 86 minutes, with suspense and fun aplenty, which is the least to be expected from an Alfred Hitchcock feature. Oh, and if you get a chance to view this classic, see if you can spy the director in his trademark cameo….cheers!

Want to know more?
Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:
The 39 Steps (1935) Criterion Collection
Hitchcock By Truffaut. The Definitive Study of Alfred Hitchcock By Francois Truffaut
If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Happy 94th, Olivia de Havilland!

2010-07-01T14:23:00.008-04:00

Born during the first World War, the legendary Olivia de Havilland turned 94 on July 1, 2010. One of the last stars of the golden age, de Havilland has one of the most incredible careers in film history.

Independent Woman published a wonderful interview with O de H last year. I'd like to share it to help celebrate her special day. Check it out by way of the link below.
Happy Birthday Olivia!

http://www.independent.ie/lifestyle/independent-woman/olivia-de-havilland-i-was-a-star-but-also-a-slave-1821397.html

The Wicked Lady (1945): Or Cleavage and the Crafty Wench

2010-06-29T16:43:00.009-04:00

In November 2004, the British Film Institute compiled a list of the all-time most popular films ever shown in England, not just those made in Great Britain but across the globe. This list wasn't created by opinion polls or statistics, but by the most accurate data available....the number of tickets sold. Not ticket sales, which can change dramatically over decades due to inflation, but actual tickets sold to viewers. What a novel idea! And of the tens of thousands of movies shown in Britain, number nine on the list was The Wicked Lady (1945), a lush and lusty historical potboiler made in England and starring the ravishing Margaret Lockwood and the rakish James Mason. You may have heard of it but chances are the average modern classic film fan hasn't and yet it beat out Jaws, the Harry Potter series and even each individual installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, none of which even made it into the top ten. What? How could an obscure little swashbuckler made just after the war, with a running time of only 104 minutes, sell more tickets than these blockbuster heavyweights?

The Wicked Lady, released in December 1945, just so happened to be England's highest earning film for 1946. The British box office coffers fairly exploded with the bodice ripping tale, set during the Restoration. Critics thought very little of it but the public couldn't get enough. Based on a novel by Magdalen King-Hall called The Life and Death of the Wicked Lady Skelton, the story apparently has its roots in real life events of the life of Lady Katherine Ferrers (pictured right), an heiress and wife of prominent landowner Thomas Fanshawe, in 17th century England. The conniving female of the film's title is Lady Barbara Skelton (Lockwood), who has been invited to the wedding of her childhood friend, Caroline (played by the lovely Patricia Roc). Upon arrival, the beautiful and scheming Barbara charms and bewitches bridegroom-to-be Sir Ralph Skelton (Griffith Jones), a wealthy, albeit uninspiring landowner. She marries the unassuming Ralph and becomes lady of the manor, a grand Jacobian mansion called Maryiot Cells (the huge estate is actually Blicking House in Norfolk, now a property of the National Trust). Bored with what she considers a dull life as a country lady, she dons a mask and men's clothes and becomes a highwayman, a rogue in days of old who worked as armed robbers of passing carriages on remote highways. She meets up with another thief of the same order, the infamous Jerry Jackson (Mason) and, as bored with her her husband as she is with domestic life, she and Jackson become lovers. Wicked doesn't begin to describe our lass, as her shenanigans multiply, eventually leading to murder, as well as yet another man floating about in the background to raise her temperature (Michael Rennie).

The Wicked Lady was a product of Gainsborough Pictures, a film studio in Islington, London, which was a part of the Rank empire, the leading movie production company in Britain. Gainsborough gave rise to a small group of up and coming actors which included Stewart Granger and Phyllis Calvert, as well as Lockwood, Mason and Roc, and specialized in interchanging these players in various historical, as well as contemporary dramas. Lady is a perfect example of the Gainsborough formula and by far the most commercially successful. One simple reason for the film's popularity was the fact that risque Restoration romance was all the rage in 1945. American author Kathleen Windsor had just released her debut novel Forever Amber the previous year to enormous success, with a film version in the works by 1946. The Wicked Lady was very similar to Amber in atmosphere and theme and was a better representation of the genre for a fraction of the cost its American counterpart would incur. The fiery melodrama made no pretense of being high art, instead embracing its dime store romance novel status with sumptuous interior decor and lavish costumes given exquisite attention to detail.

When it came to U.S. distribution of the film, the costumes became a huge bone of contention. American motion picture censors considered Margaret Lockwood's cleavage much too prominent to be allowed on Yankee movie screens and costly reshooting was required in order for the picture to be shown this side of the Atlantic. There was also no lack of innuendo and racy dialogue. Upon meeting the dark and daring Jerry, who has no qualms about wrapping his hands around Barbara's nibble worthy neck, she asks: "Do you always take women by the throat?", to which the sensual thief wantonly answers, "No, I just take them."

Lockwood is without doubt the star of the show. She had already made a name for herself nearly a decade earlier as the female lead in Alfred Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes (1938). By the time she played Lady Skelton, she was one of England's most popular movie actresses. Bearing a striking resemblance to American film star Joan Bennett, Lockwood runs dramatically amok in The Wicked Lady. She is a cross between Jezebel and Lucretia Borgia, definitely the stronger character next to her weaker male film counterparts. When all is said and done, number nine on Brits top list is just good dirty fun.

Bette vs. Miriam, Bout of the Divas: Meow

2010-06-20T21:40:00.010-04:00

About a year ago, I wrote a short piece on the legendary feud of two legendary Hollywood actresses, Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins. Since then, I have expanded this forum and also, delved deeper into the abyss that was the Davis/Hopkins relationship. Bette was infamous for her battles with certain co-stars, male (paging Mr. Flynn! Mr. Errol Flynn!) as well as female (calling Joan Crawford!), but they seemed to pale in comparison to her feeling for Miriam Hopkins. Their’s was a deep seeded, long standing rivalry, which began even before either woman made a single movie.

Round 1
In 1928 both young actresses were in a stage production on the east coast called Excess Baggage. Both were part of a repertory acting company headed by director George Cukor, although at this point, unlike their future film pairings, Miriam, not Bette, was the big cheese. Hopkins also made leading lady status in Hollywood long before Davis, with star turns in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) and Design for Living (1933), among other notable films of the early 30’s.

Round 2
In 1933, Hopkins starred in Jezebel on Broadway. It was the story of a tempestuous Southern belle (a part tailor made for the real life Southern spitfire) in the era before the Civil War, ala Scarlett O’Hara. The play was unsuccessful, running only a few dozen performances and closing after a month. Not only did Miriam star in the play, but she was part owner of the rights to it. When Warner Brothers studio showed interest in the story as a vehicle for its rising star, none other than Miss Bette Davis, Hopkins balked, refusing to sell the rights unless the deal included her in the lead role of Julie, which she had originated. In order to obtain the rights, she was given the impression that she would be cast, so when top brass gave the plum part to Davis, Miriam was livid. To add insult to injury, Bette won her second Oscar for her performance in Jezebel. The story goes that Miriam cried.

Round 3
In late 1938, with her career in somewhat limbo, Hopkins signed a two picture deal with Warner Brothers. The first film under her new contract was the historical melodrama The Old Maid (1939), based on an Edith Wharton story. In the film, she played second lead to guess who….Bette Davis, Warners reigning queen supreme. But neither actress was a shrinking violet and there was tension aplenty on the set, with director Edmund Goulding at the helm. A studio memo summed up the stressful situation when it relayed, “…Goulding has a tough job on this picture with these two girls. Not that they want to cause him any trouble or worry, but each one is fighting for a scene when they go into it…”

Davis had fought hard with the studio to get where she was professionally, and she wasn’t about to take guff from her rival. But Miriam certainly tried to get a rise out of her at any opportunity. On her first day on the set, Hopkins wore an exact duplicate of the dress Davis had worn in Jezebel. Davis reflected on this time with Hopkins in her autobiography with the following observations: “Miriam used and, I must give her credit, knew every trick in the book. I became fascinated watching them appear one by one…When she was supposed to be listening to me, her eyes would wander off into some other world in which she was the sweetest of them all. Her restless little spirit was impatiently awaiting her next line, her golden curls quivering with expectancy."

Warner Brothers publicity department took full advantage of the dueling divas and played up their feud to boost ticket sales for the upcoming film. They even went as far as to circulate a photo of the actresses in full costume with boxing gloves on, ready to duke it out, with director Goulding looking resigned between them. (above)

Round 4
During the making of The Old Maid, Hopkins was married to director Anatole Litvak. Litvak had directed Bette Davis in her follow up film to Jezebel called The Sisters (1938), and Miriam suspected the two were having an affair, but Davis was too taken with her Jezebel director, William Wyler, at the time to look at Litvak. However, reportedly Litvak and Davis DID have a short affair during the filming of All This and Heaven Too in 1940, but by that time the director and Hopkins had already divorced.

The Old Maid was excellent box office, and Warners signed Miriam on for another spin with her nemesis in 1943 to make Old Acquaintance, the story of two childhood friends/rivals who spar incessantly over men, career, and a child. The romantic yarn was perfect for the pair, but wasn’t without its backstage fireworks. Edmund Goulding was again slated to direct but had a heart attack shortly into the production. Knowing the emotional state of the set and the stress Goulding had been under with the two high maintenance queens, studio head Jack Warner jokingly accused him of having the heart attack on purpose. At 40, the dew was off the lily for Miriam, and when production wrapped on Old Acquaintance, she sold her house in California, packed her bags and went back east to the stage. When she returned to Hollywood, it would be in character roles over half a decade later.

SUMMERTIME!

2010-06-06T10:03:00.009-04:00

With the passing of Memorial Day, the unofficial start of the summer season is upon us and the sultry heat and lush atmosphere of the approaching solstice is sumptiously displayed in a few photos from heatwaves of the past, featuring some of Hollywood's most gorgeous female players. Above, buxom brunette bombshell Ava Gardner showed she knew what fun in the sun was all about, and looked amazing doing it. This picture was made about the time she was married to Mickey Rooney.....lucky boy, that Mick.

Beautiful Linda Darnell was no stranger to the cheesecake department. Her raven haired exotic beauty made her one of the most popular stars at 20th Century Fox in the 1940's.

Blonde and leggy Betty Grable is taking in the sun, surf and sand while catching up on her news........or checking out the most recent racing form.

Lovely Jeanne Crain, poolside, showing off her curves aplenty. Hard to believe this woman ended up having seven children.

Screwball cutie Carole Lombard, aka Mrs. William Powell AND Clark Gable, is reclined and refined. Not the typical swimsuit model type, Lombard had a face and figure to match even the most well known pin-ups.

One of Hollywood's coolest cucumbers in the 1940's, comely Gene Tierney is the picture of summer glamour in this fantastic shot. No wonder JFK and half of Hollywood fell for her.

Marvelously mellow Marilyn Monroe is ripe and luscious as a any summer fruit in her white one piece. Stunning.

Katharine Hepburn starring in “Box Office Poison”

2010-05-24T15:46:00.007-04:00

1932. Making her film debut with the legendary John Barrymore in A Bill of Divorcement, Connecticut born and bred Katharine Hepburn was set on a path for screen stardom. Within a year of her auspicious Hollywood entrée, she starred in the first of her four Academy Award winning roles (Morning Glory) as well as one of the most recognized and popular films of the decade (Little Women). She was the darling of her home studio, RKO, and her continued success seemed inevitable. But unlike her contemporaries, she refused to play the Tinsel Town game. She abhorred interviews and rebuffed reporters (when asked by one newsperson if she and then husband Ludlow Ogden Smith had any children, her unorthodox reply was: “Two white and three colored”). Her disdain for makeup and wearing of pants and masculine attire was seen as too independent for public taste and she was tagged by some with the moniker “Katharine of Arrogance“. She went back to the stage on her native East coast, for the not very well received The Lake. When she returned to Hollywood, RKO cast her in Alice Adams (1935) for which she received yet another Oscar nomination, but the accolades were short lived.

In 1936, Hepburn made Sylvia Scarlett with Cary Grant and Brian Aherne, in which the non-stereotypical actress played a woman who is disguised as a young man. The RKO oddity cost Kate a big chunk of her reputation and the studio a big chunk of change (The film lost a whopping $363,000 in Depression-era dollars). Her period costume dramas of the mid-30’s, including Mary of Scotland, A Woman Rebels (both 1936) and Quality Street (1937), were flops as well, the latter two losing almost a quarter of a million dollars each at the box office. The public was staying away from Hepburn pictures in droves.

There seemed to be a ray of hope with the modest success of Stage Door (1937). The film paired the haughty Hepburn with Ginger Rogers, who, commercially, was a much more popular star and lucrative commodity for the studio. As Hepburn’s status at RKO plummeted, Rogers’ simultaneous skyrocketed. Still, the sparkling and intelligent comedy based on the Edna Ferber - George S. Kauffman hit play, didn’t hit the mark RKO execs had aimed for, bringing in only $81,000 in profits.

Desperate for a Hepburn hit and with fingers crossed, the studio cast her in a comedy, based on the humble financial success of Stage Door. Again paired with Cary Grant, who had just made a comic breakthrough of his own with The Awful Truth, the actress starred in Bringing Up Baby, the story of a man, a woman and a leopard named Baby. As inane as it sounded, that was the stuff of screwball comedies in the 1930’s. In retrospect, Bringing Up Baby is considered by some, one of the premiere classic comedies of its time (an opinion not personally shared by this blogger, but that is for another post), but in 1938 it was a box office disaster, losing $365,000, and when RKO slated Hepburn’s next film to be the standard programmer Mother Carey’s Chickens, the actress saw the writing on the wall. She bought out her contract for just over $200,000 and left the studio, with whom she had become synonymous.

Then the final blow was dealt. On May 3, 1938, a full page ad appeared in The Hollywood Reporter from the Independent Theater Owners of America lambasting studios and producers for promoting stars “whose public appeal is negligible ~ receiving tremendous salaries necessitated by contractual obligations”. Along with Garbo, Marlene Dietrich, Mae West, Kay Francis and Joan Crawford, Katharine Hepburn made this list. The statement went on to label those mentioned as “box office poison”. On that very day, RKO made the public announcement that it had parted ways with Kate Hepburn.

In the heart of the “box office poison” fiasco, two significant career factors occurred. The first film released since the Reporter ad, Holiday (1938), paired her yet again with Cary Grant. It had been made before she left RKO, on loan-out to Columbia, where Grant had seen his enormous success with Irene Dunne in The Awful Truth. Disappointment again hit home, as Holiday, although liked by critics, sank with the masses. The public was just tired of Katharine Hepburn. Then there was talk of the actress as a strong contender for the role of Scarlett O’Hara in the upcoming filmization of Margaret Mitchell’s hugely popular novel Gone With The Wind. Supposedly, Hepburn offered herself as a last minute replacement should the film’s producer, David O. Selznick, not have the part cast in time, but according to one of Selznick’s infamous memos, Kate’s box office standing and lack of sufficient sex appeal did little for the advancement of her cause. Says Selznick: “…because I think Hepburn has two strikes against her ~ first, the unquestionable and very wide-spread intense public dislike of her at the moment, and second, the fact that she is yet to demonstrate that she possesses the sex qualities which are probably the most important of all the many requisites of Scarlett….”

Heading back east, the frustrated actress spent the summer of 1938 in Connecticut with her family. Later that year, playwright Philip Barry approached Hepburn with a play he’d written with her in mind. It was called The Philadelphia Story and it was tailor-made for the cool actress. Retaining the film rights to the play (via her paramour Howard Hughes), she made a huge comeback in Hollywood in 1940 when MGM bought the rights to The Philadelphia Story (along with Miss Hepburn’s services, thank you). She remained a major star for the rest of her life, but she was never to forget her time as “box office poison” either.

Random Harvest (1942): Rule Britannia…On the MGM Lot

2010-05-02T15:30:00.004-04:00

English novelist James Hilton was building quite a following with the movie going set in the early 1940’s. Two of his books, Lost Horizon and Goodbye, Mr. Chips, were both filmed, very successfully, in the late 30’s, so when his Random Harvest was published in 1941, Hollywood was very quick to beckon. With the film rights going to MGM, one could be sure that the sentimental tale, based during World War I, would get the full gloss treatment, with all stops pulled, and it did just that.

Ronald Colman plays “John Smith”, an amnesiac in World War I England. A victim of shell shock, a pathetic, practically mute case study, who is housed in a county asylum with no home to speak of, no family to call his own. Upon his escape (actually, he merely wanders away into the fog), he drifts into the local town, where he happens upon a pretty dance hall girl named Paula (Greer Garson), who takes a fancy to him. Throwing caution to the wind, she quits her job and takes “Smithy”, the endearing moniker she gives Colman, to live in the country, where he can rest, recuperate and get his bearings. With still no memory of his former life, he falls in love with Paula, marries her and has a child.

Finding he has a knack for writing, he begins to make a little money to support his small brood with articles written for a Liverpool publication. When he is offered a writing job, he heads for Liverpool to discuss the particulars, leaving Paula and Junior in their country cottage. As he arrives in the city, Smithy is struck down by a vehicle. Although physically unharmed, his mental capacity returns to its original state and we find that he is Charles Ranier, a a confident, independent gentleman of wealthy birth. But he now has no memory of his life since he was struck by a shell during the war, several years back. What is to become of Paula and their baby? Where will his life lead from here?

Predictability is definitely not an element of Random Harvest. There are enough plot twists to make Alfred Hitchcock blush, and it is these twists and turns of fate that take this movie beyond merely a sugar coated three hankie tear jerker. That and the great performances by its two leads. Colman, who had started out the decade with less than a bang cinematically, jumped back to the top of the career heap in 1942, with both this picture and Columbia’s The Talk of the Town. He had already successfully treaded water in the James Hilton pond, as had his co-star, he in Lost Horizon (1937) and Garson in Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939). Their pairing in Random Harvest seemed quite natural, though the role of Smithy/Charles Ranier was originally slated for MGM contract star Spencer Tracy. When it was discovered that Colman was available for the part, he was immediately cast.

Young Metro hopeful Susan Peters is showcased as Colman’s youthful admirer, Kitty. Her character goes from a 15 year old schoolgirl to a young lady of the world. Although Peters was nominated for an Oscar for her role in this film, she didn’t seem to have the oomph of some of her MGM ingenue contemporaries , ala Lana Turner or Donna Reed. She seems more comfortable as the naïve schoolgirl than as the more sophisticated young socialite. In real life, her story was an unfortunate one. In January, 1945, little more than a year after her marriage to actor Richard Quine, she was accidentally shot on a hunting trip with her husband. Paralyzed from the waist down, she continued to act but her career never regained momentum and she died at age 31.

As some in Hollywood phrased it, 1942 was the “Year of Greer”. The English actress not only won great acclaim for her role in Random Harvest but won an Academy Award for another of her releases that year, Mrs. Miniver, a role for which she was always identified. With these two performances and her regal and elegant persona, she secured her place as MGM’s Queen of the Lot throughout most of the 1940’s.

With Colman and Garson on hand, MGM had one of the most British films this side of the Atlantic. They were a perfect complement for each other and gave great class to a schmaltzy but completely lovable film. They make this totally unbelievable tale fascinating to watch, and a first rate weepie for sure.

The Mark of Zorro (1940): Robin Hood, Spanish Style

2010-04-26T22:25:00.006-04:00

Picking up where Warner Brothers left off in the swashbuckling department with The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), 20th Century-Fox produced the extremely popular The Mark of Zorro in 1940, casting its biggest male star at the time, Tyrone Power in the lead. The top rate production was directed by Rouben Mamoulian, a visual and stylistic master of his craft. His images of Old California, though sparse are still romantic and visually decadent. The story, originally published in 1919, as The Curse of Capistrano by Johnston McCulley, had been filmed to much fanfare in 1920 with the infamous silent film adventurer, Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. Power, although not as naturally athletic in the role of the masked avenger, was much younger than Fairbanks and with his matinee idol looks, made a more romantic lead.

Taking a page from the Robin Hood legend and even mixing in a dash of the Scarlet Pimpernel, the film begins in Madrid, Spain, where the daring and physically accomplished Don Diego Vega, a young aristocrat who is skilled with both a horse and a sword, is called home to California by his father, Alcalde (Governor) Don Alejandro Vega. The elder Vega has been replaced as leader of the region by a fat, conniving new Alcalde, Don Luis Quintero (J. Edward Bromberg), and his sinister henchman, Captain Pasquale (Basil Rathbone). Also in the new Alcalde’s household is his shallow and vain wife Inez (Gale Sondergaard) and his beautiful and innocent niece, Lolita (Linda Darnell).

When young Vega arrives home, he is confused at the frightened way he is greeted, being the son of the Alcalde, and when he realizes the tyranny and cruelty going on with the new regime, he hides behind the façade of a pompous fop, so as to do the real work that needs to be done in order to clean up the corruption. For this he takes on the persona of Zorro, the masked avenger, who rides through the shadows, dressed in black, robbing from the rich and callous to dispense to the poor and oppressed.

Fox head Darryl Zanuck began developing the Zorro film in the late 1930’s. According to Memo from Darryl F. Zanuck: The Golden Years at Twentieth Century-Fox by Rudy Behlmer, instead of having just the standard love interest, which he felt was too static, he reworked the romance angle to have two females interested in Power’s character(s). Lolita, played by Darnell, would be the Alcalde’s niece and the new story addition would be his daughter (in the end, the flirtatious character would be the Alcalde’s wife, played by Gale Sondergaard).

In a December 1940 edition of “Hollywood” magazine, it was reported that over $7,000 was spent to create in Darnell, a Spanish senorita for the film, with 38 tests for hairstyle, make up and wardrobe combined. This also included Spanish lessons, to ensure correct pronunciation of the Spanish words, which cost $400 alone. Also included in the cost was $1,200 for her Spanish dances with Power. Darnell had many gorgeous close up shots and her fresh, virginal beauty was taken at its full advantage. Being a part of such an extravagant film directed by the prestigious Mamoulian only enhanced the starlet’s standing both at Fox and in Hollywood The pretty youngster, only sixteen at the time of filming, had made her film debut the previous year, as well as the first of her many movies with Ty Power. In his biography of Darnell, Hollywood Beauty: Linda Darnell and the American Dream, Ronald L. Davis relates Linda’s feelings on being so young, even still attending school classes on the Fox lot while filming romantic scenes. “I would be kissing Tyrone Power and the school teacher would come and tell me it was time for my history lesson. I never before or since have been so embarrassed”

Apparently, Tyrone Power could buckle the swash as adroitly as his cinematic rival over at Warners, Errol Flynn. According to the incomparable Basil Rathbone, who was a skilled swordsman in his own right, “Power was the most agile man with a sword I’ve ever faced before the camera. Tyrone could have fenced Errol Flynn into a cocked hat.” Fred Cavens, master fencer supreme, choreographed the sword fighting segments to a tee, and with such specimens as Power and Rathbone to bring the action to life, his work was a pleasure to watch. However, it could be argued that as appealing as Power was onscreen, he was no match for Flynn’s devil may care personality in such a similar role. Flynn wore his sarcasm and mischievous grin as a second skin, on Power it looked slightly smug.

Composer Alfred Newman’s zealous score was nominated for an Academy Award, and Arthur Miller’s black and white cinematography was fantastic. It is also worthy to note the performance of Gale Sondergaard. Always fun to watch, Sondergaard, never a raving beauty, has striking and interesting features and as she usually does, slinks and slithers in a most glamorously sinister way. Eugene Pallette basically reprises his Friar Tuck role from Robin Hood, as Frey Filipe, the padre with the pot belly.

Happy Birthday, Shirley Temple!

2010-04-23T08:47:00.006-04:00

“I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.” ~ Shirley Temple Black

That’s how famous this little girl was in 1934, and her fame and popularity would only grow over the next few years during the Great Depression. By 1935, she was Hollywood’s top box office draw, beating out film stalwarts Clark Gable, Greta Garbo, Myrna Loy and Joan Crawford, and her perch on top of the Hollywood heap would continue for the following three years.

Born in California in 1928, the tiny tot signed on at 20th Century-Fox in early 1934 at the ripe old age of five. Fame and accolades soon followed, with Temple receiving a special Oscar in 1935 for her contribution to film the previous year (pictured above with fellow Oscar recipient Claudette Colbert). But as her pre-teen years approached, her popularity waned and Fox dropped her like a hot potato.

She made a comeback of sorts under contract to famed producer David O. Selznick in the mid-1940’s, appearing in the well received Since You Went Away (1944), I’ll Be Seeing You (1944) and The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer (1947, pictured below), but a string of lukewarm showings did nothing to excite the public and Temple never retained a shred of her former glory.

Married and divorced from actor John Agar, Temple married businessman Charles Black in 1950 raised a family and eventually became a United States ambassador. Quite a ride on the Good Ship Lollipop.
If you'd like to see more of the curly top cutie, click the link below.

Unconquered (1947): Colorful DeMille Hokum

2010-04-19T00:46:00.007-04:00

Cecil B. DeMille had been making movies for decades by the mid 1940‘s. Silent spectacles, Biblical epics, sweeping historical sagas and more often in the 40’s, films dealing with the history of the United States. In 1945, he began pre-production of a picture about Colonial America based on a novel by Neil H. Swanson, called Unconquered. The master showman pulled out all the stops for this Technicolor bonanza of adventure and romance, but all was not smooth sailing for the 65 year old director.

Abigail “Abby” Hale (Paulette Goddard) is an English indentured servant, sent to the North American colonies in lieu of the hangman‘s noose in Merry Olde England. En route she encounters two men, Captain Chris Holden (Gary Cooper) and Martin Garth (Howard daSilva), Cooper the good guy, daSilva the evil heel. They strike a bidding war for the comely Paulette aboard the ship bound for America. When Chris wins he sets Abby free upon landing. Garth, unflinchingly makes the pretty wench believe that Chris never actually paid his pledged amount for her bond and takes her for himself. Turns out Garth is an illegal arms runner for warring Indians west of the Alleghenies and Chris gets involved again when he seeks out Garth both as a government emissary to stave off an Indian war and to recover Abby.

Never one to spare expense when making a picture, DeMille spent nearly $5 million making Unconquered, and went over budget by nearly $400,000 (this was in 1947!). Made at Paramount, he cast many of his regular actors in the film including leads Gary Cooper and Paulette Goddard, both of whom the director had used several times before. According to Cooper biographer Jeffrey Meyers, it was the actor’s most lucrative film to date, reaping him 5% of the gross to $6 million, 10% above $6 million, with a minimum guarantee of $300,000. Co-star Goddard made $112,000. The thing about Unconquered is its very hokey, improbable and at times downright campy, but its loads of fun. Boris Karloff is a hoot as Guyasuta, Indian chief of the Senecas, lisp and all. The actor had just had back surgery before he began filming and his brace was camouflaged by the Indian garb he donned.

Although both Cooper and Goddard were still highly attractive, at 46 and 37 respectively, the bloom of youth was gone from both and two time Oscar winning cinematographer, Ray Rennahan, conferred with deMille that he was working hard to mask the circles under Paulette’s eyes as a result of her late nights. One can imagine what the movie might have been if filmed by DeMille ten years earlier with both Cooper and Goddard in their physical prime. They also would have been more in line with the ages of the characters they were playing.

The storyline presents Goddard’s character with one torrid and dangerous adventure after another, including being stripped and beaten in public, stripped and tied to an Indian torture stake and going hurtling over a treacherous waterfall among other things. The actress is also involved in one of deMille’s famous bathtub scenes, this time in a wooden barrel, cleavage and all parts concealed by soap suds non existent in pre-Revolutionary times, but the censors would not be silenced. All this brouhaha caused the film to be known as “The Perils of Paulette” around the Paramount lot where at the time another film under production was the Betty Hutton vehicle The Perils of Pauline.

But the big stink regarding Goddard was her refusal to appear in the big “Siege on Fort Pitt” scene where real firebombs were being hurled about the set. DeMille, who demanded bravery and complete cooperation from his actors, under any circumstances, was livid at the actress, berating her in front of the entire cast and crew, but to no avail. Paulette’s stand-in did the scenes instead, and in an ironic twist, suffered minor burns, to which Goddard felt all the more vindicated. It was the last time the actress was in a Cecil B. DeMille production, being discounted by the director for the role eventually given to Gloria Grahame in his extravaganza, The Greatest Show on Earth (1952), a film she let DeMille know in no uncertain terms that she greatly wanted to be involved with. Driving home the point of Goddard’s “cowardice” during filming, are comments made by the filmmaker in his 1959 autobiography, where he states that his two heroes of the film were the ultra professional C. Aubrey Smith, who always knew his lines to a tee and a young man, Robert Baughman, who played a drummer boy during the siege on Fort Pitt. When a fireball hit his drum, he continued to play even suffering burns on his hands. The shot can be seen in the final picture.

Other notable performers in the cast of thousands were Ward Bond, Cecil Kellaway, deMille regular Henry Wilcoxon, Virginia Grey, Mike Mazurki and the director’s daughter Katherine deMille (also Mrs. Anthony Quinn).There’s a lot of unintentional humor in Unconquered but a lot of true adventure fun as well. DeMille never disappoints with all the color and excitement and despite their age, Gary Cooper and Paulette Goddard do a fine job.

In This Our Life (1942): She's Got Bette Davis Eyes

2010-04-08T19:30:00.009-04:00

Nobody could chew up some scenery like Bette Davis. Sure, she occasionally played it low key (check out All This and Heaven Too or The Great Lie, where she was virtually obliterated onscreen by the wonderfully raving Mary Astor!), but when it came to hamming it up to full dramatic effect, none of her pre- Baby Jane performances can touch her turn as Stanley Timberlake in In This Our Life (1942). Those infamous eyes, bulging their fullest, voice when soft, at it’s silkiest (especially while using her “southern” accent), voice when upset at it’s shrillest. But all this being said, In This Our Life is a hoot to watch and never disappoints for a melodramatic funfest.

The film is based on a Pulitzer Prize winning 1941 novel by Ellen Glasgow, and it is cast full tilt with some of Warner Brothers top players. Davis plays Stanley Timberlake, Olivia deHavilland, her sister Roy. It’s one of the oddest naming of characters, which puzzles most viewers, and is never explained or addressed in the film. However, names aside, Stanley is a spoiled, loose living mantrap in Richmond, Virginia, who steals Roy’s husband, Peter (Dennis Morgan), and dumps her attorney fiancee, Craig (George Brent). When Stanley and Peter run away and get married (after the final divorce decree of his union with Roy comes through of course), Peter finds that living with this self centered, fun seeking harridan is no slice of Heaven. When he can take the stress of living with her no more, he commits suicide, sending Stanley ~ never one to be very self sufficient ~ back to Richmond and the family home. Meanwhile, Roy and Craig have developed a special if not slow-moving romance of sorts, and you can only imagine how me-me-me Stanley reacts to this current turn of events.

The film also weaves African-Americans into the mix in a dramatic and respectable way, in contrast to so many films of the day, which go to the opposite extreme of stereotype. Black actor Ernest Anderson plays Parry, a young man who wants to become an attorney and is encouraged and mentored by deHavilland’s Roy. A less noble and downright strange angle on the film, presents Stanley and Roy’s wealthy uncle, William Fitzroy (Charles Coburn) as a greedy, conniving old man, who has an obviously incestuous attraction to Stanley, and equally as twisted is Stanley’s apparent realization of this fact and flirting with him to take full material advantage of it! She is a piece of work.

Davis reportedly wanted to play the role of Roy. When cast instead in the meatier part, newbie director John Huston, let her have her way in playing it. Huston had made only one picture prior to In This Our Life ~ The Maltese Falcon . DeHavilland plays Roy in an understated, dignified performance, which makes Bette’s histrionics stand out all the more (it’s as if Olivia is standing back to let Davis make a ninny of herself). Another strike against poor Bette….has anyone ever said “poor Bette”?….was the fact that preview audiences noted a distinct dislike for her uncharacteristic beestung lips and her hairstyle, which included oddly cut bangs. The actress herself never cared much for the movie and moved on from it later the same year to create one of her signature roles, as “Aunt” Charlotte Vale in Now, Voyager.

Dennis Morgan plays a darker role as Peter than his usual devil may care good guy on the Warner lot, but George Brent as Craig is George Brent through and through. Solid, stable and non threatening to his female counterparts. The terrific cast includes Billie Burke, also in an uncharacteristic role. As Lavinia Timberlake, the tempestuous Stanley’s mother, Burke frets and worries through the whole film in a dowdy shawl, almost in a shrewish way, a far cry from the featherbrained society ladies she is so accustomed to playing. Hattie McDaniel as the Timberlake’s maid and Parry’s mother, Minerva, gives pathos and dignity to her part and in a showy portrayal, Lee Patrick is fun as Stanley’s gaudy and obnoxious friend Betty. The whole thing is gaudy and obnoxious in a 1940’s Warner Brothers melodrama kind of way, but that’s what makes it so fun. Perhaps Davis’ 1962 film should have been called “Whatever Happened to Stanley and Roy?”

Nice Way To Start My Day......

2010-03-31T08:30:00.005-04:00

What a lovely way to start my day. I got a message from Maggie at Silver Screen Dream saying that she had awarded me the "You're going places, Baby" blog award.

I will now pass this worthy honor on to five very worthy bloggers to whom I think are defintely going places, and they must choose and bestow this pleasant treat to those five they follow and enjoy! They also must link back to those who honored them with the award! Hey, that's me!

Here are my picks for the "You're going places, Baby" blog award:

Classicfilmboy at Classicfilmboy's Movie Paradise

R.D. Finch at The Movie Projector

Lolita at Lolita's Classics

Cliff at Warren-William.com

Tristan at Enchanted Revelry

These are creative and informative bloggers all! Congrats to me, Maggie and all who have been recognized today!

Dragonwyck (1946): Gothic Suspense, Fox Style

2010-03-28T19:50:00.005-04:00

According to actress Gene Tierney, in her autobiography, Self Portrait, the thing most remembered by her during the filming of Dragonwyck, was her initial meeting of young John F. Kennedy, just home from his service in the South Pacific. “I turned and found myself staring into what I thought were the most perfect blue eyes I had ever seen on a man. He was standing near the camera, wearing a navy lieutenant’s uniform. He smiled at me.” It was the beginning of what would become a heartbreaking romance for the star. But there was certainly much more to remember about the actual film than the off-screen pairing of two very attractive young celebrities. Dragonwyck is a wonderful example of the Gothic suspense genre of films, written and produced in the tradition of Rebecca and Jane Eyre.

Based on Anya Seton’s 1944 novel, Dragonwyck is the name of an enormous estate in the Hudson Valley of New York state in the mid-nineteenth century, owned by patroon Nicholas Van Ryn (Vincent Price). Under the Dutch patroon system, a landholder held rights to large tracts of land in the seventeenth century colony of New Netherland (later New York), which were worked by small farmers for a portion of what they produced (think early sharecropping). Van Ryn invites his “cousin” Miranda Wells, a young country lass from Connecticut, to be governess to his young daughter. When she arrives at Dragonwyck, she senses strange goings on and when Van Ryn’s wife mysteriously dies, he asks Miranda to marry him. All is fine until their firstborn, a male child so desperately wanted by its father, dies shortly after his birth.

Tierney is breathtaking as always. One of the biggest non musical stars at 20th Century-Fox during the mid 40’s, her cool glamour is apparent as it is in so many roles she played during the period. She had just reached a career high the previous year with her Oscar nomination for her starring role in Leave Her to Heaven, and the plum dramatic roles on the Fox lot were being offered to her. Co-star Vincent Price, though not billed above the title, garnered one of his rare starring parts during his tenure at Fox, though the role of Nicholas Van Ryn was first slated for newcomer Gregory Peck, but Peck bowed out and eventually, Price was cast. His creepy, eerily manipulative Van Ryn is a foreshadowing of the definitive characters for which he would become famous in later life.

One important note about the movie is that it marks the directorial debut of intelligent screenwriter Joseph L. Mankiewicz, who would go on to win Oscars for A Letter to Three Wives and All About Eve , both also at 20th Century-Fox. Already writing the script for Dragonwyck, he was called on to direct when scheduled director Ernst Lubitsch became ill. Atmospheric and rich in historic texture, it is a respectable first effort and a memorable film. Excellent support comes in the form of Glenn Langan, as a handsome doctor who falls in love with Gene, Walter Huston and Anne Revere as Tierney’s God-fearing parents, Spring Byington as the wise but giddy housekeeper of Dragonwyck and in a small and early role, Jessica Tandy as an Irish maid.

Cheers! Happy Anniversary, Classic Movies Digest!

2010-03-25T20:17:00.002-04:00

On March 25, 2009, cyberspace and the blogosphere were hit with yet another tiny speck of writing by yet another excited wordsmith. That speck was Classic Movies Digest and that excited wordsmith was me. It seems like it was only a couple of months ago but indeed, the calender has come full circle. And speaking of coming full circle, the very first post on CMD was a discussion of The Devil and Daniel Webster, based on the literary classic by Stephen Vincent Benet, while the most recent, released last week, was a discussion of the 1933 version of Alice in Wonderland, based on the literary classic by Lewis Carroll. However, in the annum between the two posts, all kinds of genres have been touched on, from melodrama to westerns. I hope readers of Classic Movies Digest have enjoyed and interacted in the discussion, and will continue to do so in the years to come.

Alice in Wonderland (1933): Box Office Down the Rabbit Hole

2010-03-18T17:20:00.009-04:00

Curiouser and curiouser! ~ Alice
Long before Tim Burton and Johnny Depp filmed Alice in Wonderland in 2010, a big budget, all star version of the children's classic was produced at Paramount Studios in 1933. Based on both the Lewis Carroll tales Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (written in 1865) and Through the Looking Glass (in 1870), the 1933 version of Alice, unlike it's modern counterpart (or the 1951 animated version by Walt Disney), made this trip through the looking glass a major flop. I must agree with moviegoers from the Depression era. With all the money and big name draw that went into the film, it indeed was a big fizzle.

But it had potential. Half of the Paramount lot was cast in the film in all the supporting roles. The big problem was that they were either barely recognizable or not at all in extremely heavy make-up or costumes that completely covered both their face and body. The tedious garb was based on John Tenniel's famed illustrations for the original book, and painstaking detail was taken to create the right look for each character, but they look wooden, unnatural and toyish. Cary Grant (pictured below with his overwhelming costume), not yet the superstar he would become, played the Mock Turtle and was even required to sing! Another Paramount star, whom one would never recognize if not for his name on the credits, is Gary Cooper. As the White Knight, constantly falling off his horse, Cooper is disguised as an old man, and there is none of the virility and dash of early Cooper to be found here, which is fine, just another example of bad casting to fill the marquee with big names. Some notable performances, and ones which were examples of good casting were W.C. Fields as Humpty Dumpty, Edna May Oliver as the Red Queen and Edward Everett Horton as the Mad Hatter. Horton's version of the Hatter is particularly suited to his fussy, madcap humor and the actor actually favors his character.

Many reviews of the film call it a faithful adaption of Carroll's classic, but this blogger begs to differ. First of all, it combines elements and characters of both Wonderland and Looking Glass to form one story, sort of Alice's Odyssey to Crazy Land. Secondly, from the very beginning, the film is nothing like the story. Unlike Carroll's tale, where Alice is outside in the country with her sister, the film begins with the little girl holed up in her home on a snowy day with what appears to be her governess. She then goes "through the looking glass" BEFORE she gets to the rabbit hole, which is in a completely different story.

Then we come to Alice herself. Paramount was said to have brought Ida Lupino, then only 18 years old and a complete novice to the screen, from England to play the part, but instead, cast Charlotte Henry, an 18 year old American with only a couple of years on-screen experience, though physically, she fit the role nicely. Lupino stayed on with Paramount and became a star in the next decade with Warner Brothers. The film had been considered a vehicle for silent star Mary Pickford, and would pair her with the animation of the Walt Disney studios, but the idea didn't gel before Paramount retained the rights.

Although not a barnburner at the box office nor with critics, this version of Alice in Wonderland in still an interesting novelty, if only to see early Grant and Cooper in bizarre getups. It's also fun for Fields fans and though the backdrops are quite amateurish, there is still some inventive use of special effects for some of the fantasy scenes. Worth a look just to say you did.

Note: After nearly seventy years this version of the Wonderland tale was released on DVD in early March 2010 to coincide with the theatrical release of the new Burton/Depp film.

Suspicion (1941): Cary Grant a Killer?

2010-03-11T11:17:00.008-05:00

Although not usually one for spoilers when discussing classic films, the topic of this post has many of the films final elements revealed as they are key to the information examined here. Be warned.

There was so much going on behind the scenes of Alfred Hitchcock's 1941 suspenser, Suspicion, it's a wonder it ever got produced. Actually, it had been floating around for years before Hitchcock finally made it at RKO studios. Based on a novel by Francis Iles called "Before the Fact", the film version starred Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine, and would be one of the first American made Hitchcock films that focused on the psychological aspects of its characters, much more so than his previous year's blockbuster, Rebecca.

At the time Suspicion was made, Alfred Hitchcock was under exclusive contract to producer David O. Selznick, the mastermind behind Gone with the Wind (1939). Together, they formed an unholy union that created Rebecca, Hitchcock's first American film, but Selznick was so unyielding to the British director on creative issues, Hitchcock was more than grateful to be loaned out to make Suspicion (Selznick was notorious for loaning out his talented contractees, making enormous profits off their services, instead of using them for his own films, except on occasion). Another of the Selznick group loaned to make Suspicion was the film's female lead, Joan Fontaine. She too, had been part of the success of Rebecca, being nominated for an Academy Award as the meek second Mrs. deWinter. Hitchcock had been keen on casting her in that role, even though publicity mad Selznick had hoped to recreate the hub bub he had enjoyed with his search for Scarlett while casting Gone with the Wind. The producer cast a wide net to entice established actresses to test for the part. In the end, Fontaine got the role and when it came time to shoot Suspicion, the shy, awkwardness she displayed in Rebecca held her in good enough stead with Hitchcock that he cast her again.

Fontaine plays Lina McLaidlaw, a reserved young Englishwoman, who comes from a well-to-do country family but is well on her way to spinsterhood, a fact brought to the forefront by none other than her parents. Also a fact noted and filed away by handsome and roguish playboy Johnny Aysgarth (Cary Grant). Johnnie knows a good thing when he sees it (a skill that doesn't always shine through with his regular trips to the racetrack). The good looking ne'er do well woos and eventually charms the awkward lass into marriage, assuming the would be heiress will eventually net a fortune. As the weeks go by, Lina begins to see Johnnie for the scheming, charmingly manipulative man he is, yet still loves him. When his old friend , the lovable but slow witted Beaky (terrifically played by Nigil Bruce) arrives, Lina's suspicions grow even stronger. Johnnie persuades the trusting Beaky to go into a real estate venture with him only to see the friendly fellow die a questionable death shortly afterward. Finally, the shrinking wife, realizes her affable husband has inquired into her life insurance policy and sees his actions from that point in a sinister light.

Studio brass at RKO, didn't think the public would accept Grant as a cold blooded killer and wanted the film's ending to reflect that assumption. According to Alfred Hitchcock, in his famous interview with Francois Truffaut, he wanted the film to end with Fontaine's character realizing that her husband was a murderer, but so in love with him that she couldn't leave him. Instead, she writes a letter to her mother exposing her husband and proclaiming her wish to die. When Grant's Johnnie brings her the "poisonous" milk, she asks him to mail the letter, drinks the milk and drifts off. The final fade out, according to the director, would show Cary, whistling a chipper tune as he slips the letter into the mailbox. The weaker conciliatory ending didn't curtail box office returns and Suspicion was a bonafide hit over the 1941 holidays.

Hitchcock's signature use of creative lighting and camera angles, along with with an atmospheric score by famed composer Franz Waxman, garnered the film a nomination at the next years Oscars. (As to the directors creative genius, he also confessed to Truffaut that a small light was actually placed in the glass of milk carried by Grant up the dark stairwell to make it luminous. He wanted it to be the complete focus of the scene). The big winner at Oscar time was actually Joan Fontaine. The young actress, unhappily married at the time to actor Brian Aherne, felt she wasn't getting the guidance she needed from the formidable director and her sense of loss both on the set and off, brought to her performance the sense of fragility and paranoia, needed to convey Lina's neurosis. It won her the Best Actress Oscar, beating out her sister Olivia DeHavilland and fueling an infamous rivalry between the siblings which was never resolved. Many thought the win was a consolation prize for not winning with her Rebecca role, but as it turned out it was the only Hitchcock directed role to ever win an Academy Award.

The Most Dangerous Game (1932): Second Cousin to King Kong...Once Removed

2010-03-07T15:40:00.007-05:00

When I was in the 8th grade, our class read the short story The Most Dangerous Game (also known as The Hounds of Zaroff) by Richard Connell, and I thought it a thrilling read, as stories read in school were not always that glamorous at that age. I discovered years later that several film versions had been made of the classic 1924 story and was particularly interested in the first and most famous one made in 1932. It wasn't until recently that I had the opportunity to finally see this oft filmed tale in its original screen incarnation and found it was worth the wait.

Although the RKO golden boy of the early 1930's, Joel McCrea, was top billed, the films villain, British stage actor, Leslie Banks, was the true shining force. As the sinister Zaroff, Banks is in melodramatic overdrive, overplaying his role like so many bad guys in the early sound era did. But this zeal only added to the eerie atmosphere of an eerily atmospheric picture.

McCrea plays big game hunter Bob Rainsford, who, as the lone survivor of a shipwreck, swims to the safely of a nearby island. On the island he finds the creepy mansion of creepy Count Zaroff (Banks), complete with creepy servants. Amongst all this creepiness, he finds the lovely Eve Trowbridge (Fay Wray) and her drunken brother Martin (Robert Armstrong), also guests in the Zaroff household due to a shipwreck near the island. It doesn't take long before our hero finds out that Zaroff, a self proclaimed fellow hunter, is a madman, who, bored with hunting mere animals, steers ships toward the rocky cove near his island in order to find a new and more dangerous prey...humans.

The Most Dangerous Game packs a wallop in its 63 minute time frame. Made for approximately $200,000, it was a success at the box office. If it looks and feels familiar, that may be because it gives the distinct impression of being King Kong~esque. That, in fact, is not by happenstance, as the two were being made simultaneously at RKO studio, by the same filmmaking team of Merian C. Cooper and Ernest Schoedsack. Kong stars Fay Wray and Robert Armstrong even gave a two for one by playing in both. 26 year-old McCrea gives a performance of smooth self assurance in this, one of his early beefcake roles. Master musician Max Steiner adds the perfect musical complement to all the mayhem. But Leslie Banks steals each scene in which he appears. Stroking the scar on his head, and staring off in the distance, one can only imagine the twisted atrocities running through his deranged mind as Zaroff. And what does the striking Miss Wray do? Why, cast look after look of sheer terror and scream, of course.

The Most Dangerous Game is part adventure film, part horror (Portions of the "trophy room" scene were cut when preview audiences started leaving the theater in horror/disgust). The principles make an engaging group, and the overall flick is like And Then There Were None without the mystery. If King Kong is the more ambitious and better known of these pieces of Siamese celluloid, Dangerous Game at least needs to be acknowledged in its own right as a classic example of early adventure, Hollywood style.

Want to know more?Here are some recommendations regarding the article above:

The Most Dangerous Game(1932) DVD

The RKO Features: A Complete Filmography of the Feature Films Released or Produced by RKO Radio by James L. Neibaur

If you are interested in these or any other merchandise, please help support this blog by purchasing them through the Amazon portal at the top of this page. By accessing Amazon through this site, you help me maintain resource material and continue to share my love of classic film. Thank you very much.

Can You Guess Who This Is?

2010-02-28T07:36:00.002-05:00

Can you guess who am I? Surely you know me. No hints, just check out the gleam in my eye.

The Whisperers (1967): Are You There?

2010-02-25T17:33:00.008-05:00

Few, if any, films present the loneliness of old age as starkly as Bryan Forbes' The Whisperers (1967), and few actresses have shown the depth of character for such a topic as Dame Edith Evans does in this film. The Whisperers is Evans' tour de force. Nominated for an American Academy Award, she lost out to Katherine Hepburn (as so many before and after her), but her performance in the film was so effective and absorbing that she was not only nominated but won the New York Film Critics Circle Award, the National Board of Review Award, the Golden Globe and the British Academy of Film and Television Arts Award (BAFTA), all as Best Actress.

Evans' is best known as a haughty, aristocrat in films like The Importance of Being Earnest (1952), Tom Jones (1963) and The Chalk Garden (1964), even displaying a lofty indifference as the Ghost of Christmas Past in 1970's Scrooge. But her character in The Whisperers is the exact opposite. Mrs. Margaret Ross is an elderly, mentally fragile, poverty stricken woman, living on the dole in a dingy flat in Manchester, England. Friendless and with no family of any help to her, she finds a lone friend in a compassionate social worker (Gerald Sim). Her onset of senility has her imagining voices coming from her ancient radio or the pipes of her decrepit plumbing. Her daily routine consists of singing hymns with a host of fellow unfortunates at a local soup kitchen and trying to warm her feet on a heating duct at the free library. Her quiet, lonely existence is sent into upheaval when her worthless son shows up ~ possibly the first time in years ~ with a parcel, which unbeknownst to Mrs. Ross, contains stolen loot, which he hopes to hide in her shabby hovel. When she discovers the ill-gotten gains, her feeble mind believes it is the inheritance she has long waited for. Her troubles only truly begin when she meets a shady lady out to steal the money, lands in hospital with pneumonia and has her long lost, no good husband cast upon her as caregiver.

If indeed Dame Edith is the whole show ~ and she is ~ the support offered her by a plethora of wonderful British actors is just as substantial. As her deadbeat husband, Archie Ross, veteran actor Eric Portman gives one of his final performances. His Archie is a vagabond mooch, who is coerced by the authorities to see to his deserted wife after her bout with pneumonia. Another winning performance is by Gerald Sim. As Mr. Conrad, the social worker who takes a personal interest in the desolate and destitute Mrs. Ross, Sim offers a sympathetic portrayal of what could have been another standard part swept under the cinematic rug. Ronald Frasier and Avis Bunnage also do a fine job as Ross' worthless son and a degenerate con woman respectively. The only complaint is for Nanette Newman. As the director's wife, Ms. Newman received third billing for less than half dozen or so lines in a part that could have easily been edited. Although very attractive, Ms. Newman, aka Mrs. Forbes, appeared in the film in a beefed up part, apparently the recipient of good nepotism.

The moody and very atmospheric score is by multi award winning composer John Barry and the low-key cinematography by Gerry Turpin, both turning in winning elements to the emotionally draining story. Not for the faint of heart, The Whisperers has very mature and thought provoking themes. It even touches on the subjects of elderly sexual relations, interracial cohabitation, and even the briefest hint of incest (when Evans' would be assailant, father and daughter, give one another knowing smirks). But the overwhelming commentary is on aging and poverty, and that commentary is brought to the screen both thoughtfully and sensitively. It's message is one that is as important and prevalent today in the United States as it was in Great Britain, circa 1967.

100 Blog Posts: How About 101?

2010-02-18T16:59:00.010-05:00

When I started writing Classic Movies Digest last spring, I had no idea I would eventually write 100 posts. I had no idea how many posts I would write, I just wanted to share my love of classic movies with anyone who wanted to read what I had to say and share that love with me. Well, I am happy to say the response has been tremendous and I have enjoyed meeting a wide variety of fellow classic movie enthusiasts. To celebrate the milestone, I requested your input, what readers wanted to see for the 100th article, and based on comments, e-mails and various messages and requests, the following is the response of the masses. Thanks to everyone who participated and to all readers of CMD.

Silent Transition: Can You Hear Me Now?

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain't heard nothin' yet!" Those were the first words spoken in The Jazz Singer (1927), the first "talkie" movie, partially anyway. It was the first feature film that bridged the gap from silents, the only films the world had known, to the sound era of filmmaking. Released by Warner Brothers in fall of 1927, the studio would release Lights of New York, the first all-talking feature film, the following year and with that, there was no turning back. Audiences flocked to the new kind of movie and box office takes were too profitable to ignore, even by those who at first called the concept a "fad". It was a transition famously ~ and creatively ~ lampooned in the classic musical Singin' in the Rain (1952), but the conversion to sound didn't come without its casualties. Talent went to the wayside in droves, some, superstars of their time.

Many of the most celebrated stars of the silent era were of foreign birth and thick accents were given as the major reason for their fall from box office grace. Pola Negri, notable paramour of Chaplin and Valentino, was one such case. Her Polish accent apparently so thick it was deemed practically inaudible. Poor sound technology didn't help these situations surely, nonetheless, Paramount declined to renew her contract. Swedish icon Greta Garbo, on the other hand, not only made the transition successfully but thrived in sound films. Her Anna Christie (1930) actually heralded her sound debut with banner headers screaming "GARBO TALKS!" to movie-goers. Her reign at MGM was only strengthened, and her famed low profile only caused audiences and fans to want to hear her talk all the more.

As for paramours, Garbo's lover and would be husband, John Gilbert, was one of the sound era's most beleaguered victims. Once rivaled only by Rudolph Valentino as the ultimate male sex symbol of the silent period, the problems with his post silent career went far further than mere sound mechanics. As the story goes, his predicament began with his proposed marriage to the elusive Miss Garbo. In 1926, he and Greta were to take part in a double wedding ceremony with director King Vidor and actress Eleanor Boardman. Garbo was a no show. MGM head honcho and Gilbert and Garbo's boss, Louis B. Mayer, attending the nuptials, made a nasty crack about John's bride-to-be and Gilbert socked him. According to Miss Boardman, Mayer swore to wreck the actor's career. There was no love lost between these two men even before the incident, so the skirmish only brought to a head the tension between them. When Gilbert made his talking debut in This Glorious Night (1929), his voice came across as too high pitched to make him a viable screen lover. Also, his constant use of the phrase "I love you" was sniggered at by audiences and parodied in the afore mentioned Singin' in the Rain. Legend is that Mayer had the sound manipulated in the film to make Gilbert's voice less than suitable. Lack of support from his studio, heartbreak over his failed romance and alcohol all played a part in his demise.

Others who didn't withstand the test of time were superstar Clara Bow (above). The "It" Girl had a Brooklyn accent which supposedly the public didn't readily identify with their beloved sex goddess. Bow's voice actually wasn't much different from any of her contemporaries who also came from the New York borough, Barbara Stanwyck for instance, and time has shown that her career problems stemmed more from her personal demons than public acceptance. Some, like Bow, crossed over but didn't sustain their stardom. Ramon Navarro, Mary Pickford and Gloria Swanson to name a few (Swanson would gloriously mock her own decline in her classic "comeback", Sunset Boulevard (1950) ). Chaplin didn't even bother until 1940.

Then there were those who, like Garbo, crossed over and blossomed in the age of talkies. Joan Crawford (left), everybody's favorite flapper, not only made the successful transition but reinvented herself numerous times to sustain her career for decades to come. She went from 20's flapper, to 30's working girl, to 40's noir dame to 50's hardcore queen bee to 60's campy horror icon. Norma Shearer, Ronald Colman and Janet Gaynor are great examples of those who excelled on both sides of the celluloid fence. But with the onset of sound, the time was right for change regardless. Stage actors came on the scene, those who had both faces and voices that they knew how to use. Of this crop, those who moved in to stay included Bette Davis, Katherine Hepburn, Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney and a slew of others. The chase was on and the newbies were ahead of the game.

Whether he knew he was being prophetic or not in The Jazz Singer, Al Jolson was right, we hadn't heard nothin' yet. Paging Lina Lamont.

Red Dust (1932): Sex in the Tropics

2010-02-12T17:47:00.006-05:00

Sex. It permeates almost every frame of the pre-Code classic Red Dust (1932), and why shouldn't it? It starred Clark Gable and Jean Harlow, both at their physical peak and professionally, well, this film shot them to superstardom. It was raw, it was wanton and, if audience attendance was any indicator, it was extremely entertaining. In the world of pre-Code Hollywood (the time before the Hollywood censors would banish any naughty behaviour onscreen), Red Dust fairly reeks of sex with nary a nude scene or onscreen intercourse. Who needed these things with Gable's virile masculinity and Harlow's open sensuality coming together with a charged electricity that crackles in front of the camera (and if rumour is correct, behind it as well).

Set on a rubber plantation in Indochina, Red Dust smells of rugged machismo, Gable and his cronies out in the middle of nowhere, cultivating raw rubber "so some old lady somewhere can take a hot water bottle to bed with her". Enter stage left, Harlow as Vantine, a fun loving harlot on the run from officials in Saigon, who shows plenty of leg, along with everything else. Just as she and Denny (Gable) are getting cosy, enter stage right, Gene Raymond (usually the partner to Ann Sothern in a series of lighthearted romps) and Mary Astor as Gary and Barbara "Babs" Willis, the plantation's new surveyor and his prim, proper and quite pulsating new wife. Gary is immediately stricken with malaria, giving Denny and Babs a chance to ignite a few sparks of their own. Vantine, not the kind of gal who takes a back seat quietly (not alone anyway), lashes out with wisecracks aplenty, making some of the snappiest dialogue this side of the Hays office.

Dialogue was one of the best ~and most brazen~ assets the film had going for it, second to its zesty stars. When Harlow's Vantine first encounters Gable's Denny and his male assistant, she playfully asks them, "What else do you do besides work? Do you play any games?". As her constant chatter irritates a grumpy Denny, he finally shouts, "Do you want me to slap you out of this room?", to which she retorts, "You and what man's army?", and of course this verbal sparring leads to eventual laughter and a seductive fade out. Harlow is ready for Gable. He manhandles her just the way she likes to be manhandled.

The film is not the typical fare produced by MGM at the time. The mega studio had no glamorous backdrop to present its stars and yet, it was immensely popular with the public. The film's director, Victor Fleming, was a "man's man" and a close friend to the macho Gable. Red Dust was the kind of film Fleming thrived on (he also directed Gable in 1939's Gone with the Wind). Gable's role as Denny was originally thought to be filled by silent film star John Gilbert, but studio politics and boss Louis B. Mayer nixed the idea and Gable came away famous.

The movie's tropical setting only adds to the heat already generated by its cast. As Barbara, Mary Astor is even more unwillingly libertine in her adulterous lust for Gable's Denny when one knows the background of the actress' torrid and infamous real life amours. The fireworks are in their scenes together as well. Early on when Astor slaps Gable hard for a verbal offense, he enjoys it, grinning that Gable grin from ear to ear. Then she can barely conceal her growing desire for him as she watches the strong, dark and commanding Denny hold her fair and weak husband, nursing him back to health from the fever. The comparison of the two is indeed notable to the tingly Astor. Then in the scene immediately following, Vantine happily and boldly watches Denny undress for bed, only to be told to go to her own, which she does in disappointment. These two ladies have it bad. The wise-cracking, off color dialogue continues when a disgruntled Harlow proclaims to the parrot, whose cage she is cleaning: "What you been eatin', cement?" The steamy shenanigans culminate in a carnal wrestling match between Denny and Vantine, which ends with our anti-hero being shot in the torso by a jealous Babs.

Jean Harlow was only 21 when Red Dust was released but her erotic, world wise persona is decades older. MGM slated their new cash cow couple into several popular money makers over the next five years. Harlow's last film before her untimely death in 1937 was Saratoga, again with Gable.

I WANT YOU!: Reader's Choice

2010-02-08T11:34:00.003-05:00

Ah, time is indeed fleeting and although it seems like just days ago that I introduced CLASSIC MOVIES DIGEST to the ever growing blogosphere, I am rapidly approaching my 100th post on the blog! I have tried to cover many topics and discuss a wide variety of film genres over the course of 90 some odd posts but for the big 1-0-0, I'd like for it to be your choice, as a loyal reader of CMD, as to what the milestone post will cover.

Have a favorite film? Or just one that you don't know as much about as you'd like? Classic star or director? Or maybe you'd like my take on a certain classic film related topic? You tell me.

I'd love to hear from you. I'll be taking suggestions for the next week via comments on this blog, my Facebook account, where I can be found at Rupert Alistair, Twitter, again RupertAlistair or email me at rupert.alistair@gmail.com . I'll look at all suggestions and take the majority, or if there is no majority, I will use the highly scientific and most up to date methods in the technical classic movie world.......I will draw from a hat.

Kitty (1945): Paulette at Her Peak

2010-02-03T17:25:00.006-05:00

In 1944, Kathleen Winsor's novel Forever Amber swept the country. The tale of a lusty British wench who sleeps her way to the court of Charles II both titillated and fascinated readers. It didn't take Hollywood long to start clamouring for the rights to the story. In the end 20th Century-Fox claimed the blockbuster tale, but Paramount, not willing to be left in the dust, started production of its own Amber facsimile, Kitty, which premiered two years before its cinematic rival. Complete credit for the gorgeous period flavor of the film must go to its director Mitchell Leisen. Beginning his career as a set designer, Leisen's work as director always displayed a superb sense of style. His artistic background and eye for detail came together in a visually sumptuous setting.

Based on a novel by Rosamond Marshall, Kitty ~ played by the pert and very pretty Paulette Goddard ~ is an 18th century guttersnipe (i.e. wanton, poverty-stricken petty thief in this case) who tries to steal from famed English painter Thomas Gainsborough (Gainsborough's celebrated work is the figure The Blue Boy). When she is caught, the artist is struck by her good looks under the dirt and rags she wears. Instead of casting her into prison, he hires her to pose for him (in a better set of clothes of course) and when the portrait is exhibited, all of London is enthralled with the mysterious beauty. In on the charade is the attractive but penniless and mercenary fop, Sir Hugh Marcy (Ray Milland), who takes Kitty in as a servant for the household he shares with his aunt, Lady Susan Dowitt (Constance Collier). Seeking revenge on the Duke of Malmunster (Reginald Owen, in rare form), who is fascinated with Kitty's portrait, Sir Hugh tries to pass his ward off as a lady to the Duke, with both humorous and sinister bumps along the way.

For the plum title role, the studio cast its comely and vivacious contract star Paulette Goddard. Always a popular screen figure, Paulette was at her professional peak and most consider Kitty her best role. She goes from guttersnipe to duchess in such a charming manner, that you don't think of how improbable the situation is. Goddard relayed her own legendary charm and charisma with men to the character, with charming and charismatic results. Ray Milland, as Sir Hugh Marcy, pompously primps and preens and his Sir Hugh is one of the weaker elements in the film. There is no redeeming quality to him through the entire movie, other than his initial kindness in letting the waif live with him rather than go back to the hovel she shares with a hag named "Old Meg" and her "girls". Kitty is part Eliza Doolittle, part Amber St. Clair but Milland's Marcy hasn't the charm of Henry Higgins nor the romantic fervor of Amber's Bruce Carleton. Why Kitty falls head over hells for this lout is beyond me. Nevertheless, the story is a fine one and Leisen's handling makes it even finer.

Of course there is strong support in the way of Patrick Knowles as Kitty's aristocratic suitor, Sara Allgood as Old Meg, the snaggle toothed hag and Cecil Kellaway, who charmingly portrays the painter Gainsborough. Not to be forgotten is Constance Collier as Lady Susan. Her husky, gin soaked accent from across the pond was authentic enough that she was hired as Goddard's voice coach. For Paulette's cockney dialect, Connie Emerald, mother of Ida Lupino, was hired.

Kitty was a high point for Goddard. Her vivacity and charm lent itself very well to the distinguished good taste of Mitchell Leisen's production. Though the efforts of all involved were noble ones, it is the combination of star and director that make Kitty memorable.

The Maltese Falcon (1941): The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

2010-01-31T17:30:00.007-05:00

Sam Spade. An iconic figure in both American cinema as well as American literary fiction. Dashiell Hammett's famed detective cemented stardom for screen legend Humphrey Bogart and Hammett's famed story, The Maltese Falcon, offered a solid directorial debut for legendary filmmaker John Huston. Considered by some the first film noir, The Maltese Falcon was an early 1940's crime drama produced at Warner Brothers, master of this film genre, with an eclectic array of tough talking, fast moving oddball characters who come together with one common goal....possession of a priceless black falcon statue.

Moving at a lightning pace, the film is a masterpiece of mystery, crime, tough dialogue and suspense. Warners had made two less successful versions in the 1930's, one under the original title in 1931, then as Satan Met a Lady in 1936 with young Bette Davis (Davis counted this version among her worst films). The 1941 Huston version is a tight, sophisticated and complicated film, well received by critics and audiences alike and faithful to Hammett's book.

The story revolves around a small statue of a falcon, whose history dates back centuries and whose value certain parties place higher than human life. Bogart plays detective Sam Spade, who is drawn into the intrigue regarding the recovery of the sculpture by the beautiful and lethal Brigid O'Shaunessey (Mary Astor). Brigid's false tale of a missing sister gets private dick Slade on the trail of the valuable bird, only to meet others also in hot pursuit of the object, including notably iconic Hammett characters weaselly and effete Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre); youthful killer Wilmer (Elisha Cook, Jr.); and menacing "Fatman" Gutman (Sydney Greenstreet).

Like many other screenwriters cum directors of the day, Huston, as screenwriter, tired of others directing ~ and rewriting~ his work, sought and was granted by the powers that be (aka Jack Warner), the task of bringing the third version of the famed crime thriller to the screen. Bogart, for the second time in less than a year lucked out thanks to the poor judgement of star George Raft. Months earlier Raft refused the role of Roy "Mad Dog" Earle in Warner's High Sierra. Bogart's casting in the Earle role was the impetus for his starring career and when Raft refused the role of Spade in Falcon, Bogart was again given his cast-off, made it his own and became a star. The role of femme fatale Brigid O'Shaunessey was originally set to be played by Warner contract player Geraldine Fitzgerald. However, Fitzgerald went east to take a job on the stage and Mary Astor was delighted to take the juicy part of deceptive O'Shaunessey. Along with her Oscar winning role later the same year in The Great Lie, her part in The Maltese Falcon would be her most famous (on screen anyway, as she had a very colorful offscreen life).

Everyone else in the cast is simply superb. Greenstreet, over sixty and roughly 300 lbs., made an unforgettable film debut as the baleful and bloated Kasper Gutman, code name "The Fat Man". In Falcon, he skillfully perfected the portly prototype of villain that he would portray throughout his film career. Cook truly looks like he's about to lose it, as gunsel Wilmer, with crazed look in his eyes and cold blooded murder in his heart. He and fellow Falcon co-star Lee Patrick (who plays Bogart's trusted secretary Effie) appeared in a 1970's spoof of the film called The Black Bird. Actor Walter Huston, father of the film's director, made an unbilled (and unpaid) cameo, as a victim of the statues lethal value.

The Maltese Falcon has been copied, spoofed and parodied, but the style and success of the Huston film cannot be duplicated. The parts of his masterpiece fit too perfectly together. Bogart became as synonymous with Sam Spade as he would with Casablanca's Rick a year later, and the professional and personal bond forged between he and director Huston would remain strong until Bogart's death in 1957.

Barbary Coast (1935): The Gangs of San Francisco?

2010-01-26T18:06:00.005-05:00

In Edward G. Robinson's autobiography, he relates his on-set relationship with his co-star Miriam Hopkins, during the filming of their joint venture, Barbary Coast (1935). According to Robinson (and many others through the years), Hopkins was a diva extraordinaire, snobby, impossible to deal with and constantly late to the set, making cast and crew wait to prove she was the true star of the film. When Robinson finally called her on her behavior, she egged him on to give it all he had in an upcoming scene were he was supposed to slap her. When the time came, he did just that and received a roaring burst of applause from the entire crew. So was the backstage atmosphere for Barbary Coast.

The film was inspired by a book called The Barbary Coast: An Informal History of the San Francisco Underground by Herbert Asbury, who also authored The Gangs of New York. The latter story was a gritty period piece which was famously filmed in 2001 by director Martin Scorsese and starred Daniel Day-Lewis, Leonardo diCaprio and Cameron Diaz. While the story lines of the movies do not mirror one another, there are similarities; older, darker bad guy (Edward G. Robinson/Day-Lewis), younger romantic guy (Joel McCrea/diCaprio) and blonde cutie (Miriam Hopkins/Diaz), all gathered within a lusty, boisterous male driven setting almost two centuries ago. But this is not a comparison of the two films, merely an acknowledgement that they are based on work by the same author.

Producer Samuel Goldwyn had read the Barbary Coast story and wanted to film it as early as 1933. At one point the film was thought to be a comeback film for silent star Gloria Swanson and Goldwyn also contemplated it as a vehicle for his European "discovery" Anna Sten (his answer to Garbo) and Gary Cooper, but when the first few pictures Sten did for the producer flopped, he backed off. The final verdict was Miriam Hopkins and Joel McCrea, Goldwyn regulars in the mid 1930's. Robinson, borrowed from Warner Brothers, rounded out the starring cast. Noted director Howard Hawks was set to oversee the film, while the renowned writing team of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur handled the script.

The story isn't an extremely complicated one. Mary "Swan" Rutledge comes to old San Francisco during the famed Gold Rush of the 1840's, with its muddy streets and rugged, dangerous atmosphere, as a mail order bride for a wealthy saloon owner. She finds instead that her "beloved" has been murdered and his fortune overtaken by rival Luis Chamalis (Robinson). Intent on getting her share of the dead man's money, she cozies up to the loud and barbaric Chamalis, who puts her in his place, the Bella Donna, running a crooked roulette wheel. She is content to make money and be the belle of the ball (one of the few white women in Frisco at the time) when she accidentally meets up with a poety readin', deep thinkin', nice lookin' prospector named Jim (McCrea). Drawn to Jim but not daring to hope they could be together due to what kind of gal she is/has become, she goes back to her roulette wheel, Jim none the wiser. On his way out of town, Jim stops in at the Bella Donna to find Swan in her Jezebel garb and men aplenty. She gets embarrassed, he loses his gold and Chamalis gets suspicious. Enough for now, no spoilers here.

Miriam Hopkins may have been a prima donna both on-screen and off but her career was in high gear during the filming of Barbary Coast. She had just finished making Becky Sharp, based on Thackeray's Vanity Fair, which was notable in film history as the first feature ever filmed in full Technicolor. For her efforts in Sharp, she would be nominated for a Best Actress Oscar and begin her rich association with Goldwyn. Joel McCrea, always a favorite in Hollywood, didn't have much to do in the film except look attractive and let Robinson chase him around. Still his good guy persona stood him well and his career continued to flourish. Also cast was Walter Brennan, an extra and bit player for years. According to the Howard Hawks biography, "The Grey Fox of Hollywood", Brennan went to his audition and asked "With or without", to which he was asked, with or without what. He was talking about his dentures and did the test without his falsies. He not only gained the role but the part was gradually expanded until he ended up with fourth billing! As another example of his continued success, Brennan was awarded the very first Best Supporting Actor Oscar the following year for his role in Come and Get It. Brian Donlevy is another up and coming wannabe who gained great success after appearing in Coast as Robinson's henchman, Knuckles (boy was he a chipper chap).

With the production values afforded a Goldwyn picture, the tight direction of Hawks and the fiery performances of Hopkins and Robinson, Barbary Coast is a very worthwhile flick. Catch it if for no other reason than to see Edward G. with muttonchop sideburns, fluffy, puffy shirts and a single dangling earring. A long way he is from the milquetoast in Scarlet Street for sure.

Well, I Saw Them All......Almost

2010-01-20T17:18:00.006-05:00

Last summer, I wrote a piece on 13 classic movies I'd never seen, but wanted to. After watching about a third of the films listed, I wrote an update on the list, giving my opinion on my first viewing of these films. After several months of searching and watching, this blogger is happy to say that he has successfully watched all but two of the original 13 movies with one of the remaining two in my possession, waiting to be watched. Alas, one film continues to elude me. Hotel for Women (1939). Neither hide nor hair have I seen of this movie my many years on this planet. However, of the rest I wish to offer my take, humble as it may be.

The first four films were covered in the first update. If you haven't read that post, you can catch it here. For some of the movies listed I have written full blown posts and their links are listed below. Here goes.

Citizen Kane (1941) When I let it be known that this screen classic had eluded me the response was overwhelming. So I bit the bullet, snagged a copy and proceeded to watch.

Read Full Article

Meet John Doe (1941) I've always enjoyed both Cooper and Stanwyck and Capra's no slouch either. Put them all together and you've got a winning film. Read Full Article

Trade Winds (1938) More than lived up to my expectations, not one of the greatest films ever made, but fluffy entertainment and it indeed entertained. Read Full Article

House Across the Bay (1940) George Raft, Joan Bennett, Walter Pidgeon. A standard yarn of glamorous Bennett waiting for imprisoned Raft, who is in Alcatraz. Pidgeon comes along and, well, you get the picture.

Initial appeal for me: Joan Bennett! One of my favorite female stars of the silver screen, so any opportunity to see her in an obscure film (which this is) is a welcome one.

My opinion: Not the first candidate to win the Oscar for Best Picture for sure, but more than held my interest, especially since it had three good stars leading the cast.

They Won't Forget (1937) Claude Rains, Gloria Dickson, Lana Turner. Based on a novel called Murder in the Deep South, They Won't Forget is the tale of the murder of a young girl in a small southern town and the susequent trial of her accused attacker.

Initial appeal for me: Always a fan of the great Claude Rains, everything I'd read about this film was positive. Also it was an interesting novelty as the first substantial role for future superstar Lana Turner, as the murdered girl.

My opinion: Powerful drama, with Rains first rate as usual and as expected. Turner's not bad either, Southern accent and all.

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) Basil Rathbone, Nigel Bruce, Richard Greene. Although several film versions of the infamous sleuth Sherlock Holmes were made both before and after this 1939 classic, Rathbone's Holmes is by far the definitive one. This was the first Rathbone/Bruce pairing in the roles of Holmes and his trusty companion Dr. Watson, and spurred an entire series based on the characters.

Initial appeal for me: I've always been a fan of the series but had never been able to see this first film until recently. Holmes will always be the best Holmes in my opinion and 20th Century-Fox gave this the full A picture treatment.

My opinion: Wonderful film with great atmosphere and superb performances from all involved, particularly Basil Rathbone. A follow-up, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, was produced later the same year!

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Fredric March, Claudette Colbert, Charles Laughton. Cecil B. DeMille's epic tale of Rome in the time of the Emperor Nero. A pre-Code spectacle as only DeMille could pull off.

Initial appeal for me: What's not to be intrigued about? Christians being eaten by lions, lesbian dances, baths in asses milk (yes, Miss Colbert is bathing in a gigantic pool of asses milk), orgies, lust, all set to a pace by master showman Cecil.

My opinion: It was quite a show for the eyes, but a little disappointing in script and performance. High camp at times, particularly Charles Laughton as Nero, I'm not sorry I watched The Sign of the Cross, but I expected more.

The final film, aside from Hotel for Women is All Through the Night (1942) starring Humphrey Bogart. I have Night and plan to catch it soon. So there you have it. Pretty good work after six months or so, to collect and watch several movies that I haven't had a chance to see over the years. As stated in the earlier, original post, these aren't the only films I haven't seen that intrigued me just a good example. In the future, I think I'll share a few films that I haven't seen that might surprise you.

Three on a Match (1932): Everything a Pre-Code Should Be

2010-01-15T17:17:00.005-05:00

Before Hollywood decided to censor itself in the mid 1930's with the Production code out of the Will Hayes office, vice ran rampant on the silver screen. Sex, violence, drugs, alcohol (even during Prohibition in the early 30's and before); all things tawdry and unseemly were displayed for the world to gawk at and enjoy with their popcorn. Of all studios, nobody showed the seedier side of pre-code films better than Warner Brothers. Paramount and MGM may have made sex and the post Jazz Age sparkle but Warners threw in grit and grime, and one of the best examples of their pre-code sizzle was Three on a Match (1932). The intriguing title is attributed to the notion during World War I that a single match lit long enough to light three soldiers' cigarettes could cause attack from enemy gunfire and the last to light up would be killed. However, it was later claimed that a match company started the superstition to increase its sales.

The three on a match are Joan Blondell, Ann Dvorak and Bette Davis, who play school girl acquaintances who meet up in adulthood having gone down very different paths. Mary (Blondell) was the girl who cut class to smoke with boys, went to reform school and is now a feisty showgirl (what else for the feisty Blondell). Vivien (Dvorak) was a stuck up priss who ended up in a swank boarding school and is now married to a wealthy attorney, Robert Kirkwood (Warren William). Lastly is Ruth (Davis), the studious one of the three who completes business college and is a career girl. There's alot of Valley of the Dolls in this story. The focus of the film remains on Vivien, a bored and spoiled wife of a rich man. When she rebuffs his amorous advances, he suggests she take a trip by herself (WHAT?). Instead she takes their young son Junior along and the two proceed on a European cruise. En route Vivien begins an affair with a slick and virile gambler, to whom she was introduced by school chum Mary. Viv leaves the ship with the thug, Junior in tow, at a European port. Frantic, Robert searches high and low for his family with no success until Mary gives him the information he needs to find them.

Third billed is 24 year-old Bette Davis, but don't be fooled, this is not a BD movie. Her diminutive role doesn't even rate the billing she receives. It's not her fault mind you, she does what she can with the weak material her character is given. Any accolades for acting must go to Ann Dvorak and Joan Blondell. Dvorak is rather lackluster in the first half of the film, as the spoiled, wandering wife of wealthy William, but as she descends into a pit of carnality and eventually drug addiction, she is splendid to watch. When she has hit rock bottom, with her illicit lothario, she is shown in the dingiest of flats, repeatedly wiping her cocaine addicted nose. Warren William plays the urbane, smooth character he did so well in films of the period. Forgotten by many today, both he and Dvorak offered interesting and dynamic characterizations in many pre and post code films.

In a small but forceful part is Humphrey Bogart. As one of the dozens of sinister hoodlums he portrayed before finally achieving stardom, Bogie doesn't disappoint. He leers and sneers and is just nasty through and through. Great stuff. Also in an early "heavy" role (pardon the pun) is the terrific Edward Arnold. Directed by the talented Mervyn LeRoy (I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, The Wizard of Oz), one of the films greatest assets is its quick pacing and compactness. With a total running time of only 63 minutes, its short even for a picture of its period. But so much is packed into the 63 minutes that there is not time for a dull moment. Like other dramas of the pre-code era, the message is short but sweet ~ at least figuratively. A story could be told by cutting to the chase. The film's climax is powerful and chilling, a tour de force by Dvorak. There is nothing watered down here. No, I'm not going to spoil it for you , its something you must see for yourself.

Trade Winds (1938): A Tale of Two Blondes

2010-01-11T07:54:00.007-05:00

As the title of this article references, Trade Winds, released by United Artist in 1938, owes much of its success to two attractive blondes, Joan Bennett and Ann Sothern. However, Bennett and Sothern arguably owe much more to the film for the career boosting turn it gave each of them respectively. This light mystery-comedy-suspense yarn is fun on more than one level and both of its female stars made the most of what it offered them.

San Francisco, 1938. Kay Kerrigan (Bennett), a beautiful, blonde socialite, confronts and shoots her dead sister's lover when he proves to be a cad supreme, by admitting he practically put her sis in the morgue. Realizing what a pickle she's in, the blonde cutie dyes her hair black, changes her name and takes it on the lam across southeast Asia. Close on her heels is detective Sam Wye (Fredric March), a skirt chasing gumshoe who's out to collect the $100K reward for Kerrigan's capture. Also in tow is Wye's fast talking, wise cracking dame of a secretary Jean (Sothern), who is out to collect a wedding ring from her boss. Along for the crazy ride is police detective Ben Blodgett (Ralph Bellamy), a long legged, dull witted flat foot who likes to flash his badge at the drop of a hat. As Wye pursues and catches up with his beautiful prey incognito, he falls hard for her and she for him, which makes their pickle a double dill..er..um..deal. The globe trotting continues and Wye is faced with a choice, turn his lady love in or face a life on the run with her.

Joan Bennett had been a popular blonde about Hollywood for years when she made Trade Winds. The script called for her to darken her hair in order to skirt the law and change her appearance. The film's producer and Bennett's future husband, Walter Wanger, was taken with the striking resemblance his muse had to new hot property Hedy Lamarr, in her scenes as a brunette. As a result, Joan kept the look, both personally and professionally and began to get better parts. The change was so noticeable that it even elicited a musical response from none other than Cole Porter, who penned this line in his song, "Let's Not Talk About Love": "Let's speak of Lamarr, that Hedy so fair; why does she let Joan Bennett wear all her old hair?" ( In a side note, Bennett divorced husband Gene Markey in 1937, the year before Trade Winds was released and eventually married Wanger. Wanger had produced Lamarr's American film debut Algiers earlier in 1938. Lamarr then married Markey the next year, 1939....oh the Golden Age of Hollywood!) The change made Joan appear more sultry and combined with the exotic locales presented in Trade Winds ~ via back screen projection ~ her days as a sweet blonde ingenue were numbered and the femme fatale Bennett of 40's film noir was soon to emerge.

Ann Sothern had also suffered a rather lackluster career, leaving a none too promising stint at Columbia Pictures and RKO respectively. When independent producer Wanger offered her the second female part in Trade Winds, she showed promise as a comedic gem. Meanwhile, over at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, a script originally intended for blonde bombshell Jean Harlow had been shelved due to Harlow's untimely death in 1937. When Metro producer J. Walter Rubin saw Sothern in Wanger's film, he thought she'd fit the Harlow role well and she was subsequently cast. The film was titled Maisie and it not only made Sothern a star in her own right, but won her a long term contract with prestigious MGM. She graced all ten films in the popular Maisie series, with her showgirl charm and wise-cracking wit.

The film's leading man, Fredric March on the other hand was riding a career high. The previous year March had great successes with the David O. Selznick productions Nothing Sacred and the original A Star is Born, the latter for which the actor received an Oscar nomination. Though better in heavy drama, March handled himself well in the light comedy. Still it must be noted that he seemed more at ease during the dramatic moments of Trade Winds. Rounding out the frantic foursome, Ralph Bellamy had also just come out of 1937 quite successfully with his unforgettable appearance as the wealthy rube in Leo McCarey's The Awful Truth, for which he too was Oscar nominated. The perennial second lead, Bellamy doesn't come off nearly as good in this film as he did in Truth, but gave a worthy performance nonetheless. A quick mention must be made for a quick appearance by the terrific Joyce Compton, blink and you might miss her. Though she doesn't use her comic skills in this film, just knowing what great personality she has bottled up as evidence of her other great film bits, is a pleasure.

No heavy drama here, but it is fun to watch the ultra chic Bennett gadding about the remote islands and isolated areas of pre-war Asia in elegant garb created for her by designer Irene, while speaking in her most polished finishing school way. One would think she just stepped out of a Manhattan salon instead of a native hut. Lucky she was having the smart and savvy Wanger guiding her career and luckier still donning that dark wig.

Margie (1946): The Roaring 20's, High School Style

2010-01-06T11:29:00.006-05:00

When studio heads at 20th Century-Fox cast Jeanne Crain in State Fair and Leave Her to Heaven in 1945, they were continuing a two year process of grooming the actress for stardom. At 20 years-old, the former beauty queen was making a big splash at Fox and early in 1946 she began production of the first film she would carry on her name alone, Margie. It was enough to garner her, and the film, a Life magazine cover later that year (above).

Margie is an utterly charming period piece which pays homage to the Roaring Twenties in small town America. References are made to flag pole sitting, gold fish eating and raccoon skin coats, all set to background music via Rudy Vallee, who according to an older Margie, relaying stories of her youth to her teenaged daughter, "was the Frank Sinatra of his day." Margie MacDuff is a naive, socially awkward, painfully shy (and quite pretty, though strangely unaware of it) Ohio teen, coming of age in the 1920's. Shot in glorious crayon coated Technicolor, the story chronicles Margie's angst regarding high school, boys and the senior prom. Although not technically a musical, the film is scattered with great songs of the era, used as background or sung in a way to set the mood, not as mere performance.

Crain is lovely as the title character. The Cinderella story projects her for more than three quarters of the movie in pigtails and/or a knit stocking hat, wearing sailor suits only to blossom in the final scenes as the flower that classic film lovers know as Jeanne Crain. The actress' youth and lack of long term screen experience are evident but work in her favor as the bashful youngster. Filmed in and around Reno, director Henry King is said to have dismissed the University of Nevada co-eds hired as extras because next to Crain they looked too old to be students at Central High. He replaced them with Reno High School kids.

Rich in character and visual detail, Margie is filled with solid performances and touching vignettes, both tender and sweet as well as funny and familiar. Jeanne is supported by a host of marvelous actors, including the grumpy and frumpy Esther Dale as her no-nonsense, independent minded grandmother, a former suffragette who encourages Margie to become the first woman president of the United States. Blonde and leggy Barbara Lawrence is pretty and svelte as high school vamp Marybelle Tenner, one of "those girls" who rouges her knees and according to Margie's grandmother, uses "too much lip goo." As the high school's dime store Romeo and Marybelle's boyfriend, Johnny "Johnnykins" Green, is Conrad Janis. Slim and with a full head of hair, Janis is many years away from his role as Pam Dawber's father on the 70's sitcom "Mork and Mindy." Also an actor with a future in television, Alan Young makes his film debut as Roy Hornsdale, Margie's nerdy, poetry reading suitor. Young would become famous as the ever suffering Wilbur on T.V.'s "Mister Ed." Rounding out the particulars are Glenn Langan and Lynn Bari. Langan, as the new French teacher oogled by all the female students, was being groomed by Fox as a new heartthrob, but his career never really jelled. Bari on the other hand, had been a staple on the Fox lot for over a decade and was actually in the last stage of her career at that studio when the film was produced. As Miss Palmer, the school librarian, she offers just the right mix of glamour and sultry (wish my librarian had looked like her).

As stated earlier, music plays an important role in Margie. Lawrence gives an enthusiastic rendition of "A Cup of Coffee, a Sandwich and You" while spooning with Johnnykins on her front porch. In a wonderful bit of direction, King cuts the scene to Margie's dimly lit attic bedroom next door, where the music can be heard drifting in through the open window (these people were constantly opening their windows with snow on the ground). As our heroine is studying, she hums the tune and the scene is allowed to take its time to unfold at a slow, leisurely pace, so the viewer is able to savor the color and comely Crain in soft, low key lighting and silhouettes.

A definite box office winner for Fox, Margie advanced Jeanne Crain's career even further. The sentimental nostalgia evoked by the film was a boon to the studio with immediate post war audiences ready for the warm fuzzies it relayed.

WELCOME 2010!

2010-01-03T09:17:00.002-05:00

As the new year begins, it is not only a time to start new diet and exercise plans (good luck on those), new regimens that make one feel better mentally, spiritually and emotionally, but also a time to enjoy even more great classic films. With the winter solstice barely passed, there is a two and a half month span before the spring equinox, a perfect time to stay in and enjoy a great old movie.

Thanks to wonderfully generous and thoughtful friends and family members, the film collection from which I draw my inspiration for the material written on Classic Movies Digest has grown substantially this past year. With that said, I hope to share even more great film information, observations and discussion with the readers of this blog regarding both our well known favorites as well as many of the more obscure, but just as wonderful gems, yet to be discovered by many.

One special event that I'm excited about is a Classic Movies Digest Readers Choice post which will be detailed later in the month. I hope everyone will take part as I look forward to your input. Some other topics coming in the next few weeks are a final update on the 13 Classic Movies I've Never Seen...But Really Want To and posts discussing two of my personal favorite films.

I'd like to again thank all the loyal readers of Classic Movies Digest for their support and participation in 2009 and look forward to even more classic movie fellowship in 2010. Drop me a line at rupert.alistair@gmail.com and let me know if there is something you see that might improve this blog or its contents or just say Hi. Also, follow me on Facebook if you are so inclined. I always enjoy meeting other classic movie lovers. Happy New Year!

Ringing Out the Old: 15 Posts from 2009

2009-12-31T08:33:00.003-05:00

Classic Movies Digest went online in late March of 2009 and in the nine months since its inception, much has been covered in the way of classic movies, so much more has not....yet. Great response has been given by the blogs readers and as a reflection on the past year as it concerns CMD, I wish to offer you the highlights from 2009.

The following are 15 posts which were deemed some of the more popular, by way of feedback through blog comments, Facebook and/or Twitter comments, notes sent via e-mail and page hits. They also include some of my personal favorites. The order in which they are listed is random and each title is clickable in order for you to easily catch any post you may have missed.

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938): In Like Flynn
One of the most memorable films since its release in 1938, The Adventures of Robin Hood cemented the stardom of Errol Flynn and made a bundle for Warner Brothers. Technicolor extraordinaire!

The Glass Key (1942): Lake and Ladd in Hardboiled Hammett
A classic crime drama from Paramount, the film re-teamed Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake, a red hot pairing who became an iconic Hollywood on-screen couple.

The Many Faces of Those Glorious Character Actors
By far one of the most popular posts of the year, Character Actors showcases some of the marvelous supporting players who make the films from Hollywood's Golden Age, the well rounded, multi faceted stories they should be.

Black Narcissus: Technicolor Masterpiece
A cinematic masterpiece from British filmmakers Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, Black Narcissus is brilliant in almost every way. Even if nuns in a remote convent aren't your cup of tea, you might be surprised.

42nd Street: Brother, Can You Spare a Dame
"You're going out there a youngster, but you've got to come back a star." That's the famous line Warner Baxter said to dancer Ruby Keeler in this classic Depression-era musical, and she did! Both on screen and off.

George Sanders: A Scoundrel for All Seasons
Readers either love to hate this suave cad or hate to love him but regardless they made this post spotlighting the urbane actor very popular.

Bride of Frankenstein: A Toast to Gods and Monsters
Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester make electricity of the most morbid sort in this classic horror flick from Universal Studios. One of the most creative and intriguing films of its genre.

13 Classic Movies I've Never Seen ...But Really Want To
A post with a personal slant, it arguably got the most response than any other Classic Movies Digest entry in 2009. A final update on this post is planned for January 2010.

Scarlet Street (1945): Classic Film Noir
Film noir at its finest. A femme fatale, murder, sex and Edward G. Robinson in a frilly apron. You gotta see this one.

My Darling Clementine: An American Classic
John Ford's poetic western, climaxing at the legendary OK Corral. Fonda, Mature and Darnell are great but Ford's direction and the gorgeous photography are the stars here.

Laura (1944): Sophisticated Murder
Gene Tierney became synonymous with her title character in Laura. The most stylish murder mystery of the 1940's, it made a star of Tierney and didn't hurt Dana Andrews or Clifton Webb either.

Judy Garland: Before the Yellow Brick Road
With all that's been written about the superstar, this post touches on her early innocent days, before booze and pills took their toll. A young girl on the cusp of stardom.

A Letter to Three Wives: Is It Your Husband?
With A Letter to Three Wives, master screenwriter Joseph L. Mankiewicz put dialogue and direction together to create a sublime slice of middle class Americana. Sharp and witty, Mankiewicz' Wives set the stage for his greatest work the following year, All About Eve.

The Innocents (1961): Spectres of Complexity
The classic ghost story based on Henry James' novel. Deborah Kerr gives one of her finest performances as a timid governess who may or may not be seeing spirits. Classy and spooky in every respect.

The Awful Truth: Grant, Dunne and a Dog Named Smith
One of the funniest and most clever screwball comedies to come out of the genre, The Awful Truth stars comedic greats Cary Grant and Irene Dunne as perfect foils for one anothers mishaps. As a divorcing couple still in love, they are A #1.

There you have it. It's been a fun year (or should I say nine months) here at Classic Movies Digest and I hope the coming year will be even more so. Check out the next post to find out some great stuff CMD has in store for 2010. Happy New Year!

The Horn Blows at Midnight (1945): It Ain't Gabriel

2009-12-28T14:49:00.009-05:00

When The Horn Blows at Midnight (1945) was released by Warner Brothers in 1945, it was a major box office dud. The comedy-fantasy just wasn't what audiences nearing the end of World War II were looking for. The financial failure was so profound that its star, Jack Benny, used it as comic fodder for years to come on his radio and television shows, and whether or not it was a factor, Benny never made a starring feature again. But, although the film has a reputation for being unfunny, I strongly beg to differ. When I was young, The Horn Blows at Midnight played annually on New Years Eve, due to its theme of great change at the midnight hour. It is filled with one gag and/or joke after another, some timely, many timeless.

The story is cute as well as comedic. As the film starts we find Benny as a trumpet player in a radio station orchestra. The drifting tones of the radio commercial announcer put him to sleep and in his slumber he is transported to Heaven 1945-46 (that's what the screen says, really), where untold scores of angelic heavenly hosts make up the grandest orchestra ever to behold. This lighthearted view of kingdom come offers a corporate scenario of eternity ~ even a Hollywood studio in 1945 perhaps ~ where orders come from "the front office". In Heaven, Jack is a naive, slow witted angel named Athanael, who plays trumpet in the celestial symphony. His girlfriend, Elizabeth, secretary to "the Chief", recommends him for the job of destroying the planet Earth, which has gotten out of hand. The task of planet destruction usually goes to the demolition expert (Gabriel?) but Athanael is given the task, since the Earth is one of the lesser planets, whose creation was "merely a six day job....practically slapped together".

Using the elevator of the swanky Hotel Universe in New York City as his cosmic transport, Athanael descends to find two fallen angels turned playboys, who manage to dissuade the nit wit from his task of Armageddon. Now a fallen angel himself, the bemoaned bugler must make his way around the Big Apple as a babe in the wood, even losing his trusty trumpet to a waiter from "Joisy" because he didn't have enough of something called 'dollas' to pay for his meal.

Gorgeous Alexis Smith is at her glamorous prime as Elizabeth, the harpist/secretary with the heavenly figure. She is merely window dressing for Benny's jokes but displays much style and grace. Also on hand as a pretty trinket is beautiful blonde Dolores Moran, a Warners starlet who always raised the temperature in her scenes. The rest of the cast is simply littered with superb character actors, offering a veritable who's who of supporting players. Suave slimeball Reginald Gardiner; ranting curmudgeon Guy Kibbee; tough and dumb hood Mike Mazurki; classic Marx Brothers foil Margaret Dumont; Little Rascal cum Baretta Bobby Blake; and the incomparable fussy & prissy Franklin Pangborn, who nearly steals the show. As fallen angels Osidro and Doremus, Allyn Joslin and John Alexander are wickedly decadent, offering the ex-patriot Athanael a job peddling stolen ladies foundation garments ~ Osidro: "The job for you is hot girdles" Athanael: "But I don't know anything about a girdle, hot or cold...I don't even know what a girdle is!"

The Horn Blows at Midnight has become a cult classic of sorts, its virtues and value discovered over time. It's a wonderfully creative film and very 1940's modern. It's Warners version of ultra chic 1945 with laughs thrown in all around, not only verbally but with heavy dashes of slapstick as well, furnishing not one but two hilarious cliffhanging (literally) episodes atop the roof of the Hotel Universe at midnight when Athanael must blow his horn. Clever and engaging, The Horn Blows at Midnight would make a great Christmas/New Years Eve double feature with Christmas in Connecticut (also 1945 from Warners). Try it, you may like it.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

2009-12-24T11:56:00.009-05:00

For all the readers of Classic Movies Digest and classic film fans everywhere, here are a few reminders of the magic and glamour of Christmas past with a few of filmdoms most magical and glamorous stars. Merry Christmas to you all.

A peek at Betty Grable's fabulously famous gams as she spreads Yuletide cheer

Judy Garland and choir at MGM getting in the Christmas spirt in 1937

Who knew Bette Davis could be so colorfully festive at the holidays?

Beautiful Paulette Goddard by her tree....say, where's the mistletoe?

The Cheaters (1945): Have You Seen It?

2009-12-21T21:49:00.009-05:00

The bread and butter at Republic Pictures was its low budget westerns which were churned out at a breakneck pace, but on rare occasions, the studio would produce a quality "A" picture with more lavish sets, costumes and music than the dusty prairie afforded. The Cheaters (1945) is one example of Republic's foray into "A" movie territory. The film centers on the Pidgeon family, a snobbish set of eccentrics whose self-centered lives are infiltrated by an out of work ham actor, who they take into their home at Christmas. Facing financial ruin, the Pidgeons hatch a scheme to garner an inheritance, given by their wealthy uncle to an unsuspecting innocent actress. Between the family of crazies, the actor and the actress cum heiress the mayhem is rampant. There is a hint of My Man Godfrey (1936) in The Cheaters except with lesser known actors in a less cohesive package. Had this film been made at MGM with an A-list cast it would most assuredly be a well remembered classic.

As the actor, a charity case who is initially taken into the Pidgeon household as merely a shallow stunt, is noted stage thespian Joseph Schildkraut. The Austrian native had several notable screen roles before The Cheaters, even becoming the first non American Oscar winner as Best Actor in a Supporting Role for The Life of Emile Zola in 1937. His part as Anthony Marchand or Mr. M, as he is hailed by the Pidgeons, is no star maker, but his confidence and presence shines through. Billie Burke, best known on screen as Glenda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz (1939) and off screen as Mrs. Florenz Ziegfeld, plays the kind of role she became famous for, the flibbertigibbet social matron, for whom social standing, status and celebrity reign supreme. As Mrs. Pidgeon, she is a snob but not a vicious one, instead, she is frivolous, financially foolish and flighty.

Best known as bad girl Belle Watling in Gone with the Wind (1939), Ona Munson is terrific as Florie Watson, a part originally slated for actress Binnie Barnes. Munson does a fine job as the down on her luck actress, who inherits a bundle. She is completely down to earth and world weary at the same time. Sadly, Munson would commit suicide ten years later in New York City. Also noteworthy are Eugene Pallette as the Pidgeon patriarch, Norma Varden, as his loyal if not cynical secretary and Anne Gillis as spoiled to the bone daughter Angela (think Veda from Mildred Pierce in a comedy, if you can!).

The film's director, Joseph Kane, was Republic's top western man, but occasionally took the helm of some of their other more ambitious projects, such as The Cheaters. Repackaging for television in the 1950's, the movie became known as The Castaway and was chopped down to an hour. Long lost to many classic movie fans, the film resurfaced on Turner Classic Movies in December 2008.

Christmas in Connecticut (1945): Christmas and Stanwyck, These Are A Few of My Favorite Things

2009-12-16T14:00:00.004-05:00

Unlike Remember the Night (1940), the Christmas flick starring Barbara Stanwyck, which is relatively unknown to the masses, Christmas in Connecticut is a Yuletide offering with Stanwyck that gains more of a following with each passing year. The highly successful actress, professional to a fault and proficient in both heavy drama and screwball comedy, created in this film, a character whose stylish sense of humor has charmed classic film lovers for over 60 years. In fact, the film itself has every bit of style and panache today ~ if not more so ~ as it did in 1945, when it was released by Warner Brothers. Even the department store delivery girl is chic and modern when she ushers in Stanwyck's swanky mink coat.

A Christmas Eve staple for decades, Christmas in Connecticut features Babs as Elizabeth Lane, author of a wildly popular homemaking column in the fictional magazine Smart Housekeeping. However, as it turns out, the Martha Stewart of her day is a complete fake and hasn't a domestic bone in her cosmopolitan body, and when her publisher asks her to play hostess to a young attractive war hero for Christmas, all heck breaks loose. The cast of characters, which is perfect to a fault, rings in the holiday with complete hilarious abandon, making each successive viewing more familiar and more smile inducing.

Barbara is joined in the merriment by Dennis Morgan as Jefferson Jones, the sailor, whose obvious charms entice both a Navy hospital nurse (Joyce Compton) and our magazine darling. But he's not alone, the cast is bulging at the seams with delightful talent including the rotund Sidney Greenstreet as Stanwyck's abominable boss Alexander Yardley, who huffs and puffs his way from Long Island to Connecticut, eating anything he can get his hands on along the way. And speaking of jolly fat men (no, HE'S not in this movie), this film offers double duty with S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall joining Greenstreet in a corpulent clique. As Uncle Felix, the Hungarian Sakall's verbal massacre of the English language is matched only by his deadpan delivery of it. When he is informed of the definition of the word catastrophe, it leaves his mouth pronounced "cat'e stroph" ~ no final "e" ~ in the thickest Hungarian accent imaginable and used often at the most opportune times. Joyce Compton is a peach as Nurse Mary Lee, who orchestrates the whole fiasco in an attempt to nab a marriage proposal from "Jeffy Boy" (Morgan). Reginald Gardiner, Una O'Connor and Frank Jenks round out the top notch ensemble.

So much of the dialogue in Christmas in Connecticut is devoted to food. Stanwyck, the "fabulous cook" who can't even boil water basically depends on Uncle Felix, a fabulous restaurateur, for sustenance. The portly gourmet delivers to her door a "yummy mushroom omelette" after her own attempts at breakfast yield a tin of sardines! It is from Felix that she obtains the copy for her magazine cavalcade of culinary delights. " I took crisp lettuce, romaine, and crinkly endive from my own garden for my husband's favorite salad. For this I made a rich, creamy blue cheese dressing. Then to prepare roast duck his favorite way, I rub salt and pepper on the inside, then brown the duck in its own fat..." The gastronomic references continue with Mr. Yardley's refusal to partake in his doctor's recommended Christmas menu: mashed prune whip and creamed turnip fluff. I'd pass too. But the epicurean descriptions add a festive holiday element displayed throughout the movie, an element enhanced by several snowy horse drawn sleigh rides ( jingle bells included). Stanwyck, Morgan and the rest of the crew combine to make Christmas in Connecticut a light and fluffy holiday confection, which if missed would be "cat' e stroph."

The Bishop's Wife (1947): Story of a Well Tailored Angel

2009-12-09T18:03:00.012-05:00

"This is a picture calculated to make an audience leave the theatre with a good feeling. It has a warmth and charm that makes believable the fantasy and has been put together with complete understanding by all involved." That is how the entertainment trade paper Variety began its review of The Bishop's Wife in November 1947. It is an apt statement to make for what has become a perennial holiday favorite. Many films move us on a personal level but Christmas movies hit us right at the heart for whatever the reason. They elicit such good and warm memories, whether as in my case it was watching them with parents, grandparents and other loved ones as a youth or simply having them playing in the background during holiday gatherings or decorating the tree. They are like old friends and to enjoy them at Yuletide becomes a tradition of sentiment not to be underrated or scoffed at. Samuel Goldwyn's The Bishop's Wife is one such seasonal classic.

Could there be a more suave, debonair or charming angel than Cary Grant? The actor made the perfect Dudley, a heavenly messenger/guardian sent to answer a prayer for guidance given by Bishop Henry Brougham (David Niven), a clergyman torn between the financial politics of building a massively ornate and superficial cathedral and the emotional needs of his neglected wife and child (Loretta Young and Karolyn Grimes). A poignant story told with charm, humor and tons of Hollywood gloss, the film offers a cinematic respite from the commercial brouhaha presented in modern times.

However, the final product, known and loved by audiences today, was a far cry from that originally planned. Originally directed by William A. Seiter, he was replaced by Henry Koster (who eventually was nominated for an Oscar for his work on the film). Koster in turn switched the actors playing the parts of Dudley and the bishop. You see, Grant was originally set to play Bishop Brougham and Niven, the charming angel. Can you imagine? Another casting change came with the replacement of Teresa Wright, who was originally set to play the title role but at the time of Seiter's firing, Wright discovered she was pregnant and Loretta Young was cast. As the star trio settled into their respective roles, it became apparent that each was perfectly suited to his or her part.

The supporting cast appeared to be "heaven sent" as well, offering an assortment of characters from the wonderful Gladys Cooper, as the snobbish Mrs. Hamilton, a wealthy parishioner, whose money the bishop hopes to use in order to build his shiny new cathedral, to James Gleason as Sylvester, a friendly, down to earth cabbie, who admires Dudley's zest for life. There's also Elsa Lanchester, as the bishop's maid, Matilda. Her sense of flighty and giddy cannot be beat. There are also some carry overs from the previous years holiday offering, It's a Wonderful Life. Karolyn Grimes, Zuzu in the Capra classic, appears as the bishop's daughter Debby, while one of the boys Grimes meets playing in the snow is Bobby Anderson, young George Bailey in Life. Also on hand from Bedford Falls is Sara Edwards, who played Mary Bailey's mother, Mrs. Hatch, this time around playing a church organist.

The film is laced with touching sentimental vignettes, sure to set the mood for any lighting of the tree. When Grant's Dudley relates the Biblical story of David to young Debby, he ends his tale with a recitation of the 23rd Psalm to a captivated audience which includes the bishop's entire household. The Robert Mitchell Boys Choir sings O Sing to God, ushering in the Christmas spirit and raising goosebumps along the way and Cary even gets in on the musical feel good, playing a harp solo ~ what else would an angel play ~ of "Lost April", a beautiful composition by musical director Emil Newman (Grant was actually dubbed by musician Gail Laughton).

Not to be forgotten are Monty Wooley as a gruff professor who experiences the joys of the season after meeting the urbane angel, Sara Haden, as the bishop's secretary, Mildred Casaway and Gregg Toland's magnificent cinematography. Cary Grant was paid a handsome sum to play the handsome angel but for audiences of the day as well as those in the present, it was money well spent.

The Young in Heart (1938): Charming Charletons

2009-12-04T18:36:00.004-05:00

Not to be confused with Young at Heart, a 1954 musical starring Frank Sinatra and Doris Day, The Young in Heart (1938) is a delightful, almost forgotten comedy produced by master showman David O. Selznick. Although not a holiday related film, The Young in Heart is often shown during the Christmas season and its theme of love, faith and generosity changing hard hearts into soft, is perfect for this time of year (actually any time of year).

The Carletons are a family of charming cons, grifters of the highest order, on the make for the biggest bundle they can find. The foursome includes father Carleton or Sahib (Roland Young), as he is called, due to his fictional background in India (sahib is an Indian term of respect which refers to European men stationed in India during its colonial period); mother Carleton or Marmee (Billie Burke), yes, as in the affectionate maternal moniker given in Little Women; dashing son Rick (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.); and clever daughter George-Anne (Janet Gaynor), whose mentally at the helm of the pack of charismatic mercenaries. Tossed out of Monte Carlo (or as it is called via screen text at the film's beginning ~ The Riviera: Coney Island with a Monocle) by the authorities for shady dealings, the Carletons head to London, homeless and penniless, but magnificently tailored. En route, they meet a very kind but very lonely and more importantly, very wealthy old lady aptly named Miss Fortune (Minnie Dupree). She is taken by the striking group (in more ways than one) and desolate about her solitude, invites them to stay with her at her London mansion. As part of a grand ruse, the mooching menagerie moves in with the old gal and starts acting responsibly, the men even gaining employment, something they've never known. Paulette Goddard and Richard Carlson play Fairbanks and Gaynor's sweethearts respectively.

Not a big box office hit, nor a much viewed classic in recent years, in 1938 The Young in Heart was overshadowed at the Selznick studios by the pre-production of the producer's mega project Gone with the Wind (1939). In his autobiography, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. devotes a mere quarter of a page to his contribution to the film. Paulette Goddard, a neighbor of David Selznick and hopeful for the role of Scarlett O'Hara in his film, was put under personal contract to the producer and cast in The Young in Heart. Married to Charlie Chaplin at the time*, Goddard made her feature debut in his silent classic Modern Times two years earlier and Heart would be her sound debut in a featured role (the vivacious actress had bit parts and was a chorus girl in some early musicals). Also making their debut is Richard Carlson, an actor who became a staple in Hollywood as a dependable second lead in several fine productions. On the opposite end of the spectrum, first billed Janet Gaynor would make this her last film before retirement and marriage to costume designer Adrian (although she would make one more film, Bernardine in 1957). Famous as the first actress to win a Best Actress Oscar, Gaynor was at the height of her career when choosing to leave films.

Roland Young and Billie Burke, as the wacky, ditsy heads of the Carleton family, reunited in this film after making a splash in the previous years ghostly comedy Topper. They would again make funny as daffy marrieds in the two Topper sequels. Fluttery Burke adds just the touch of feather brained whimsy for which she is famous. As the key figure of Miss Fortune, Selznick wanted to use famous Broadway stars Maud Adams and Laurette Taylor and both actresses even made a screen test but in the end, they passed on the opportunity and little known Minnie Dupree was cast, giving a charming performance as the spinster with the heart of gold.

As awards go, the clever comedy was nominated for Oscars in the Music and Cinematography categories. Much thought to detail and resources were put into The Young in Heart and the great deco sets are superb. Speaking of design, the car in which the Sahib attempts to sell as his livelihood, the "Flying Wombat", was actually a 1938 Corsair and was designed by Rust Heinz, member of the famed Heinz Ketchup family. Reported cost in 1938 dollars to produce the car...$24,000! Unfortunately, with Heinz death, plans to complete the auto never materialized.

* For more on the Charlie Chaplin ~ Paulette Goddard Marriage you may want to check out, "The Chaplin/Goddard Marriage: Was It Legal?"

Remember the Night (1940): Unsung Christmas Classic

2009-11-29T19:21:00.005-05:00

Classic movie lovers know Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck (complete with blonde wig) as Walter Neff and Phyllis Dietrichson, the adulterous murderous duo in the noir classic Double Indemnity (1944), but four years before they became the duplicitous pair of nasty doings, the stars made a little remembered Christmas film ironically called Remember the Night. Each brought their own brand of star power and persona to their roles in the Preston Sturges written flick, MacMurray as a strong and low key hero caught up in the whirlwind that is Stanwyck in a jam.

Set on Christmas Eve in New York City, MacMurray plays a prosecuting attorney who feels sorry for shoplifting Stanwyck (and what a piece she nabs!) after he requests a continuance for her case, causing her to be faced with jail time over the holiday. Softhearted Fred (who I'm sure noticed Barbara's gams in court) works it out with a bail bondsman to get the comely crook out until after the new year. Mistaking the attorney's intentions, the bondsman ~ accurately called 'Fat Mike' ~ gets Stanwyck out of jail and hauls her over to MacMurray's digs. Having been up this street before, the hard boiled dame plays along but the attorney on his way to his mother's farm for Christmas, is flustered and bumbling (as MacMurray does so well). Realizing Fred isn't the wolf she assumed, Babs wants to stay with him and with no where else to go, tags along with him to experience the down home, warm spirit of the season she'd never known before.

Made at Paramount Studio and directed by Mitchell Leisen, the film has alot going for it creatively. Leisen, one of the studio's top directors during this period, had a background in set and art direction and his attention to detail always showed in his films. The leisurely pace of some of the scenes allows for the viewer to linger over the scenario and take it all in to its full effect without being rushed. A fine example is the exchange between Stanwyck's Lee and MacMurray's Aunt Emma (Elizabeth Patterson) while dressing for a holiday barn dance. There isn't alot of dialogue between the two actors as Patterson helps Stanwyck into a corset and reminisces over her lost love of more than a quarter of a century, but the feeling is there and the pathos and sentiment is powerfully felt. One scene to which the pace is an extreme detriment in this blogger's eyes at least, is one played out by Stanwyck's defense attorney. His tirade of comic courtroom defense seems to go on as endlessly as a wedding toast given by the groom's boorish and long winded second cousin, once removed! This performance aside, the film is both charming and touching.

One noteworthy outcome of Remember the Night is the emergence of Preston Sturges as a writer/director. Upset that his script for the film was cut and jumbled about by director Leisen, he was determined to go out on his own to direct his own scripts. When Paramount gave him the chance later the same year, he did just that with The Great McGinty, winning an Oscar for his screenplay and establishing himself as a top talent in Hollywood. He was so impressed with Barbara Stanwyck that he told her that he would write a screwball comedy just for her and the following year did so with The Lady Eve. Leisen was also impressed with the ultra professional Miss Stanwyck and in one account claimed by the director, Stanwyck stayed tied up in all the tight fitting garb for the corset scene for over an hour just in case she was needed before her performance was required.

Along with Patterson's Aunt Emma, Beulah Bondi adds a homespun touch as MacMurray's loving and supportive mother. Always the eternal maternal (unless she played the eternal spinster, of course), Bondi is lighthearted and lays the groundwork for her portrayal of Ma Bailey in Capra's classic It's a Wonderful Life (1946). Sterling Holloway is a bit irritating as Willie, the lazy/hyperactive (depending on the circumstances) farm hand to the elder femmes, but taken into context, Bondi and Patterson help him carry his scenes to completion. MacMurray and Stanwyck, two personal favorites, make the film glide with charm, both of the humorous and sentimental variety. Among the numerous holiday films, both modern and classic, on exhibition this season, my hope is that Remember the Night is added to the must see repertoire of classic movie fans.

Wuthering Heights (1939): I Am Heathcliff!

2009-11-24T15:01:00.006-05:00

As yet another representative of Hollywood's golden year of 1939, when so many American films of high quality and popularity were produced, Wuthering Heights ranks in the upper echelons of that illustrious year. One of the fine productions of the late 30's by producer Samuel Goldwyn and director William Wyler, theirs was a superb match for quality artistic filmmaking, as was shown in their earlier collaborations, Dodsworth (1936), These Three (1936) and Dead End (1937).

Wuthering Heights is considered one of the great romantic films of classic Hollywood. Based on the 1847 novel by Emily Bronte, its literary roots were transferred to the screen by way of famed writing team Charles MacArthur and Ben Hecht with pre-directing days John Huston along for the screenwriting ride. The film only covers half of Bronte's book, leaving out the second generation's story completely. None the worse for the omission, Heights is a masterpiece of movie making and the winner of the New York Film Critics Circle for Best Film of 1939 ~ beating out Gone with the Wind and all the other timeless classics of that year.

With so many good aspects to the movie, one to note is the performance of Laurence Olivier. Years after the film was released, the actor credited William Wyler for helping him with his performance by reining in his stage method and taking a more subtle approach on film. It wasn't easy though and there were tensions on the set, both with Olivier and Wyler, as well as co-star Merle Oberon. Although Olivier's Heathcliff isn't an outstanding performance, it is his presence that so defines Wyler's variation of the role, not Bronte's. The film created a Gothic heartthrob, not necessarily a gypsy devil of the moors, as depicted by Bronte's book. It certainly created a star in Laurence Olivier, who followed his Heathcliff role up with yet another famous literary character, Maxim deWinter in Hitchcock's Rebecca the following year. He and Oberon are the definitive Heathcliff and Cathy, as this film is the definitive cinematic version.

The classic tale is set in 19th century England. It relates the story of Heathcliff, a dark and brooding gypsy boy, found starving in Liverpool by wealthy and kind hearted Mr. Earnshaw and brought to live with he and his children, Hindley and Cathy. Hindley, jealous of his father's love for the orphan, despises Heathcliff, while young Cathy loves the wild boy, and he in turn loves her. As they grow, the hate between Hindley and Heathcliff also grows, as does the love between Heathcliff and Cathy. Torn between her love for Heathcliff and the material pleasures offered to her through a marriage with a neighboring aristocrat, Edgar Linton (David Niven), Cathy confides to her housekeeper Ellen (Flora Robson) that it would degrade her to marry her low born lover, unaware that he is listening at the door. When Heathcliff runs away after this revelation, Cathy, realizing the mistake she has made, marries Linton and resides in comfort and luxury at the neighboring estate with her husband and his young sister Isabella (Geraldine Fitzgerald). After a significant time, the brooding and vengeful anti-hero returns, affluent and refined and ready to repay old grudges with blackhearted vengeance. After paying the mounted gambling debts accrued by the constantly drunken Hindley, Heathcliff buys his estate, Wuthering Heights, out from under him and allows him to remain there to be tormented. When he is rebuffed by the now married Cathy, even though she still loves him, he woos and marries young Isabella, only to make her and the rest of the complicated melange miserable.

British stage star Olivier wasn't so keen to play the role initially. Earlier experiences in Hollywood hadn't been particularly pleasant ones and even more, his then lover, Vivien Leigh, had been rejected for the role of Cathy in favor of Oberon, who was under contract to producer Goldwyn. Leigh was offered the lesser role of Isabella but rejected it as too dull (she went on later that year to play the greatest role Hollywood had to offer...Scarlett O'Hara). However, after re-reading the quality script and with encouragement from Leigh, Olivier accepted.

Famed cinematographer Gregg Toland's camera work takes a prominent place in the film's success. Deeply focus and expertly lit, this film was the precursor to his masterful work in 1941's Citizen Kane. Of his numerous Oscar nominations, including Kane, Toland's only win would come from Wuthering Heights. It was the first year the Academy divided the prize for both black and white and color work ~ Gone with the Wind won the color honor. Toland's cinematography was actually the only Academy Award won for the film, although it was nominated for a total of eight, including Best Picture, Best Director and the performances of Olivier and Fitzgerald.

Other versions of the famed novel have been filmed but none have come close to capturing the romance or aesthetic detail that the 1939 installment did. It made stars of its leads, increased the fine reputation of its creators and was wildly popular at the box office. In any other year, Wuthering Heights may well have been the picture of the season. Nonetheless, it is a classic to be revisited and enjoyed.