The Marrying Kind (1952)

While watching The Marrying Kind  a few weeks ago on TCM, I was reminded of The Crowd (1928), that great silent movie which looked at the life and love of an "ordinary" couple, portrayed charmingly and heartbreakingly by James Murray and Eleanor Murray. The later film treads similar ground: it follows a working class married couple, Aldo Ray and Judy Holliday, over the years, from their marriage day to their impending separation, and all the dissapointments, tragedies, and reconciliations in-between.

It's framed by Ray's and Holliday's impending divorce proceedings, overseen by a patient woman judge (a woman in a position of authority treated with respect in an old movie? Color me delightfully surprised). Of course, this being Hollywood, there's a tentative reunion at the end and the divorce is called off. An outcome which I didn't find satisfactory, partially because Ray's character is such an irredeemably proud hothead, and partially because the movie is more successful at showing the desolation of the couple's relationship than offering any sort of persuadable hope of its fixability.

Despite what I've said, The Marrying Kind is still a worthwhile, well-acted, and sharply written (by real married couple Garson Kanin and Ruth Gordon), and worth seeing, especially if you want a break from cinematic marriages consisting of nothing but sunshine, lollipops, and banter.

The Prowler (1951)

Leave it to director Joseph Losey to bring a healthy dose of darkness to the screen.  With The Prowler, he doesn't disappoint, with a tale that makes James M. Cain look optimistic. At least in the case of the scribe's Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice, the murderous couples were always on the level with each other. Not in this movie.

Let me back up a bit: After Susan (Evelyn  Keyes), the wife of a disc jockey, spots a prowler peeping in on her in the shower, she naturally calls the cops to investigate. One of them, Webb (Van Heflin), takes a special interest in her. He's a bitter sort of fellow, a one-time college football champ dreaming of owning a motel court. This being a film noir, he of course has an affair with the married woman, not put off at all by her husband's convenient late-night radio gig. Nor is Webb scared off by the life insurance policy Susan's hubby happens to have.

Even in terms of the fiend-populated movies of film noir, Heflin plays one memorably unscrupulous, non-magnificent bastard. But don't feel too sorry for Susan, unassuming as she is to the true extant of her lover's monetary fixation; she quite willingly falls for his charms, partially won over by the chance to escape from her dull and constricting home life.

Though not taking place in the usual Noir habitat, replacing the dark cities and glitzy nightclubs with windy deserts and sleepy suburbs, sleaze still permeates The Prowler.The movie turns the typically melodramatic tropes (adultery, grand passion, etc) on it's head to satirize the American Dream, with a central relationship built on murder and lies, and an upcoming birth leading to a family's collapse. 

Not the most uplifting movie to come out of Hollywood, but certainly one you're not going to forget. 

My Favorite Wife (1940)

I'm not the biggest Irene Dunne fan. You might say, "I'm done with Dunne." (Tee hee, puns.) In this movie, she plays Cary Grant’s presumed-dead wife, missing ever since she was swept overboard during an Anthropological expedition seven years before. But on the same day Grant declares her dead and gets married to Gail Patrick, guess who shows up at his honeymoon hotel? 

            An enjoyable movie with a clever set-up, not as funny as I though it would be, but still amusing. Grant's more refrained in his double-taking comic business than usual, with some golden expressions of exasperation. Dunne's OK; as I stated before, she's far from one of my favorite actresses, but I have liked some of the movies she's been in (like The Silver Chord). Here she's smart and sassy, like Joan Blondell with the edges sanded off and waxed. 

            I had no difficulty suspending my disbelief for the sake of Dunne and fellow island playmate Randolph Scott somehow managing to survive on a desert island for seven years. But it was a little more difficult to see how such an amazing tale of survival could escape notice of the press. Nevertheless, one must remember that logic is second fiddle in comedy. There are complications, mistaken identities, deceit, and coincidences all for the sake of conflict, rounded out by a punchline, and caped off by a happy ending, of course. After all, this is Hollywood.

            I guess you have a few hours to kill, you can’t lose with this fine comedy about the marriage, in and out of the courtroom and the bedroom. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but there are a few surprises and funny moments.

The Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933) (full)

This is yet another film that has been eclipsed by its remake, in this case the enjoyable 1953 3D House of Wax from 1953, staring Vincent Price. Which is unfortunate, because on its own, The Mystery of the Wax Museum a really fun horror /mystery / comedy/ raunchy Pre-Coder. 

A brief intro: a very talented wax sculptor (Lionel Atwill) loses his is prized London-based wax museum in a blaze set by his money grubbing partner. Twelve years later, in New York City, bodies are mysteriously being stolen from the morgue, and the models in a new wax museum look just like them…

You probably know where this is going, but at a brisk 77 minutes, it's a journey to get to inevitable gory conclusion. Well, not visually gory since this is 1933 after all, but we do get some nasty make-up.

Also worth noting that this is one of the last two-strip Technicolor movies, a process which emphasized red and green; great for flesh tones, not so much at providing a variety of colors, though we do get some gorgeous shadow work, jaw-dropping sets, and eye-popping dresses worn by heroines Fay Wray and Glenda Farrell, as compensation.

 

 

Lionel Atwill is a slyly sinister Mr. Igor, and Ms. Wray once again gets to show off her impressive screaming skills as another damsel in distress. Ms. Farrell was the acting highlight for me, however, as a snappy and tough talking reporter. She also gets to roll off some gem Pre-Code wisecracks, greating a cop reading a dirty mag with a chipper “how’s your sex life?” and responding to Wray’s plans for marriage and children with her own plans: “you raise the kids, I’ll raise the roof.” 

Overall, it's a very fun horror film that doesn't take itself too seriously, but still manages to provide the type of gorgeously-shot chills that early 30s horror epitomized. 

Here Comes the Groom (1951)

They don’t make 'em like they used to. This zany Frank Capra-directed comedy offers, among laughs, wisecracks, a wrestling catfight, and a few tunes. It all ends in a climax at the most lavish outdoor wedding imaginable, with the type of inevitable ending you see a mile away, but is winning enough that you don't care.

Bing Crosby stars as a Pete, a reporter writing about war orphans in France.  When he has to return to the States, he decides to adopt two of them, but discovers that he can only keep the children if he gets married within five days. Pete's not worried, however, because has a girl in mind: long-time fiancée Emmadel (Jane Wyman), whom he decides to surprise by arriving on her doorstep with the tots without notification. She has a surprise for him in turn: tired of waiting for her long absent beau, she has become engaged to her wealthy boss Wilbur (Franchot Tone). The wedding date: in five days.
        

How can I describe this film properly? It feels familiar, kind of a Philadelphia Story rehash, complete with the unfortunate implication that the heroine needs an ex to tell her that she doesn't love the man she's going to marry WITHIN A WEEK! Despite the typical old movie symptom of values dissonance, I found it enjoyable. None of the songs are classics, with the exception of an aria from Verdi’s Riggoletto, sung by a blind orphan girl, and the only example of pure Capracorn in the movie. Only one, “In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening,”  is a real earworm, the kind that never ever will leave your head ever. 

Crobsy did his typical laid-back-wisecracker shtcik, and does it well, and Tone was amicable and charming as the doomed fiancee who tempts fate by inviting Crosby to stay at his immense estate. 

But the leading ladies blew them both out the water. Jane Wyman was amazing,the usually prim and somber actress lending herself swimmingly to comedy; she rages, wrestles, trips, make a fool of herself, and sings a little, too, all the while holding on to her dignity, smarts, and stubbornness. Alexis Smith, as the maid of honor and the smitten "kissing cousin" of Wilbur, is also a hoot, guided by Crosby into a Pygmalion-like transformation from dry, insecure blue-blood to a confident whistle-worthy head-locker. What could have come off as condescending portraits of women whose end goals are nabbing men, become amusing characters through the spunk, charisma, and energy of the two ladies.

Not as well known as it should be, I thought the movie was very good and well worth watching. It's nice to see a little fluff once in a while, and this one was a fine, frivolous, funny, and fun puff of fluff.

The Time of Your Life (1948)

This is an odd little film. Not in a good "Holy shit, I've never seen anything like it and it's forced me to look at filmmaking/life in a brand new way, and getting me to ask questions about what I perceive as 'good' and 'bad,' turning my own preconceived notions on its head." More like a shrug of "meh," followed by the exasperated exclamation "Boy, this hasn't aged well at ALL!"

The Time of Your Life is an adaption of William Saroyan's Pulitzer prize winning, but little revived play of the same name. It takes place almost entirely in this San Francisco dive called Nick’s Pacific Street Saloon, Restaurant and Entertainment Place, which seem to attract the most strange, eccentric characters. This includes, but is not limited to, a B-girl with a heart of gold (Jeanne Cagney), a tap dancer who likes telling funny stories that nobody laughs at (Paul Draper), and Joe (James Cagney), a mysterious man who always has money and likes being nice to people. There's no real plot to speak of; just a lot of interactions and purplely monologues. It fact, it is almost radical is how little action takes place outside of the bar, not attempting to hide its theatrical roots, though bowing down to cinematic censorship (turning Kitty’s profession from prostitute to B-girl, for instance).

This is full of very memorable, and often very good, performances. Special shout outs have to go towards William Bendix as the bar owner, who is both exasperated and pleased by his clientele; and Jeanne Cagney (James’s sister) who projects a certain melancholy but fragile hope and will to survive in every scene she is in. Cagney himself is in an atypically low-key performance, and its only ok; there's little of the dynamism that makes him so appealing.

Now, this movie has major flaws, most that can be traced to the original material. The characters are a collection of quirks, tall tales and pinballs. The dialogue is overwrought and stylized to the point of grating rust. Morality is at its most basic divided into two types: those who are good and those who are vilely evil (the one Bad Guy wears black, for Christ's sake).

I'm glad I saw this bizarre film once, but it holds no candle to the best "movie based on a play where barflies monologue in a bar for hours," The Iceman Cometh (1970)

I Married a Witch (1942)

In Puritan times, a witch and her father are burned at the stake in a New England town. Before her execution, however, the witch placed a spell on Johnathan Wooley (Fredric March), the man who accused her, cursing him and all his decedents to be stuck in miserable marriages. Fast-forward to the present, and the newest Wooley (again Fredric March) is running for governor and is due to be married to a shrewish woman (Susan Hayward) the next day. As (bad) luck would have it, the witch is resurrected in the form of Veronica Lake, and she plans to continue messing with the Wooley family by having March fall in love with her.

I have a special nostalgic place in my heart for this movie. It was one of the first old films I ever watched multiple times as a child, and it was my introduction to director René Clair and stars Veronica Lake and Fredric March, the latter who has and will always be one of my favorite actors. Therefore, it's completely reasonable that I should herald this film as an under-seen comedic masterpiece. Which it is. It's funny,  charming,  witty, well-acted, smartly filmed, and contains some marvelous special effects for the time. What more can I say?

Well, Lake gives one of her best performances as the witch of the title, being at times beguiling, conniving, and a little goofy. She pouts when things don't go as planned, but recovers herself by sliding up a banister in order to give March a love potion. March himself is also enjoyable, trying unsuccessfully to hide his attraction to Lake through briskness, only for his voice to squeak whenever she gives him reason to panic. Together they make a cute pair; I'm particularly fond of the sequence when March spends literally all night explaining to Lake why she can't be in love with him, only to end up stroking her hair and laughing at her gobble up his breakfast waffles.

Director René Clair was a master craftsman when it came to moviemaking, and despite being overshadowed by his earlier and more well-regarded French musicals (Le Million for example), I Married a Witch is just as visually stunning as its predecessors. The special effects are deceptively simple, with miniatures, wires, and plenty of smoke to go around. Lake's costumes, designed by Edith Head are gorgeous. And the comedic sequences are golden, especially March's chaotic wedding to Hayward, which is continually interrupted, at first by Lake and her devious spell casting father (Cecil Kellaway), then by March as Lake's influences take their toll on him.

The total effect is nothing short of hilarious; it's the type of film that not only leaves you smiling and maybe a little moved, but will also prevent you from hearing the song "I Love You Truly" the same way ever again.

The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

You can sure cram in a lot of story in an hour. This pre-code gem stars a young and handsome Joel McCrea as world famous hunter Bob Rainsford, who ends up shipwrecked on a foreboding island. He meets the island's owner, the polite and cultured Count Zaroff (Leslie Banks), who also happens to be a well regarded hunter. He also has guests who have been shipwrecked a week earlier: siblings Martin (Robert Armstrong) and Eve (Fay Wray) Trowbridge. But something sinister is afoot: turns out that Count Zaroff has grown tired of killing wild animals. Now he enjoys hunting The Most Dangerous Game of All: MAN!!!!

Filmed on the same jungle sets as King King (1933), with the same actors (Wray and Armstrong), producers ( Ernest B. Schoedsack and Merian C. Cooper, the former additionally co-directing), and composer (Max Steiner), The Most Dangerous Game is based on a short story, but is smart enough not to kill it with padding. The telling is straightforward, and gets to the gist relatively quickly, thanks to some well-placed severed heads. And when we reach the jungle, and McCrea and Wray (a wonderful name pairing), the pacing doesn't lag. There isn't even time given for a love scene, but that shouldn't be suprising; when there are killer dogs and kosaks on your tail, sweet nothings would be the farthest thing from anyone's mind.

McCrea and Wray are in fine form in their lightly ripped clothing, as is Armstrong in his brief role as an realistically annoying drunk, but Banks steals the show. He recites his lines with a touch of camp, but he remains a formidable villain who is equally exited with the prospect of killing McCrea and having Wray. It's to the movie's credit that, though it tells a gripping yarn, the stakes are never lowered. Banks's Zaroff is a figure of imminence experience and discipline when it comes to hunting, making the chase sequences chock full of suspense, particularly when the couple are pursued by Zaroff and his hounds through a foggy swamp.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1938)

This is the only cinematic adaptation of Mark Twain’s classic novel that I've seen (so far), but I have a feeling that this might be the best one. There not really much to say, plotwise at least: it follows the adventures (major and minor) of young scamp Tom Sawyer (Tommy Kelly). He does ordinary stuff that any boy in the 19th century would do to pass the time: fishing, wooing cute Becky, and witnessing to murder, among other things.

            This opulent, technicolor production is a great visualization of the story. It helps that the cast is really good, and are near dead-ringers for the characters portrayed. Newcomer Tommy Kelly is very impressive, being both mischievous and utterly charming. Other performers that stand out are the always delightful May Robson as the eternally loving but continually irritated Aunt Polly, and Victor Jory as a very frightening Injun Joe.

            This is very close to its source material, which works to the movie's advantage. Besides keeping the iconic scenes (the fence painting, the island, etc), much of the dialogue is straignt from the book, keeping Twain's humor and charm intact. It doesn't attempt to be grandiose or epic; the leisurely pace is better suited to the episodic structure, not unlike a lazy summer day.

            An especially impressive aspect is the set direction by William Cameron Menzies (later, he would do Gone With the Wind's decor). There are some truly gorgeous matte painting and sound stages that take full advantage of the vibrant color palate. My favorite set has to be McDougal's Cave, where Tom and Becky get lost. It's a gargantuan labyrinth of rock, with waterfalls, stone throne, and entrance-blocking boulders. It's nightmareish, yet strangely beautiful.

            And speaking of beautiful, there are also some seriously nice lighting and cinematography, the later being provided by the great James Wong Howe; I especially liked a sequence where a candle goes out, only to be replaced with moonlight.

           The studio era managed to crank out some really great film versions of classic books, and thankfully this is one of them. Episodic and compressive, but never confusing, disjointed, or dull, this is a must see for young and old.

On Approval (1943)

          When the first thing seen is stock wartime footage, you think you what type of film you got into. When the first thing you hear is the omniscient narrator droning “Oh dear, is this another war picture?”, you know you're in for a treat. All this leads up to a very funny, very dry look over at the “peacetime” exercise and music of 1939 Britain, which doesn't really connect to the rest of the story, but provides a nice prologue nonetheless.

            The real plot is this: in the Naughty Nineties, the aristocratic Richard Halton (Roland Culver) proposes to a very-well-off widow, Maria (Beatrice Lillie). She accepts, but with a catch: before making the great leap into matrimony, they must live together in for one month on an island in Scotland, just make sure they would like being married. Along for the ride is Richard’s snobbish and always inebriated friend George (Clive Brook), and Helen’s clever American friend, Helen (Googie Withers). Getting to island is easy; surviving each other isn't.

            This movie is extremely funny and clever, due in no small part to the actors, who are all excellent. There is a real chemistry between them, with bon mots innuendos bouncing around like ping-pong balls. Like many a good comedy, there are continual twists and turns in dialogue and events, that I dare not reveal any, for fear of spoilers.

            One thing that really stood out to me was the amount of risqué elements. I cannot count how many lines have double meanings. Heck, most of dialogue could be said with a “nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, say no more.”

            But don’t take my word for it; see it! It very droll, very farcical, very unpredictable, and is definitely not padded or overlong (its running time of 73 minutes feels just right). All the ingredients to make a great film are here: great cast, wonderfully dialogue, etc. This wonderful discovery is well worth your time, and is never boring.

Maid of Salem (1937)

Claudette Colbert returns, her glamour able to shine through the confines of puritan garb. This time, she finds loves and happiness with an outlaw (Fred McMurray), outside the confines of her home in conservative, god-fearing Salem Massachusetts. All this comes crashing down when witch-hunting frenzy takes hold.

As far as I can tell, this is the earliest cinematic variation of the Salem Witch Trials. The few reviews that I've been able to find often compare this to Arthur Miller's infinitely better known play, The Crucible. And it’s easy to see why; besides sharing the same setting and historical event as a backdrop, the plot centers on a person whose love life gets them in trouble, and when they dare to protest and point out the madness of the trails, fall victim to its mechanisms. Unlike Miller, emphasis is placed on the gossipy and lynch mob atmosphere resulting from the accusations.

The movie blames the strictness of the society, and it’s discouragement of affection with families, as the cause of the troubles. The fits enacted by Ann are cries for attention and a way to hold some power in a loveless, abusive household.

The artistic design is very impressive, managing to conjure up a drab conformist community that views a new bonnet as something close to blasphemy. The cast is also very good; McMurray is adequate as the dashing romantic outlaw, but the rest of the villagers are made up of some fine character actors. Madame, Sul-Te-Wan, for example,as the slave Tituba, one of the early victims of the witch hunt, is incredibly impressive.

If I have some reservations, they mostly have to do with the the ending. Not to give anything away, but it is pure Hollywood. It just feels tied up too neatly, though I suppose if one were to scrunch up their eyes, they could interpret the last shot to be ambiguous and rather disconcerting. Also, there this a the character of the dr., whose sole purpose is to point out the obvious messages in the film. In other words, he’s the closest thing the films comes to an Arthur Dimmesdale equivalent.

Three Cornered Moon (1933)

They don’t make comedies like this anymore! Claudet Colbert leads a stellar cast in a slapstick comedy about a wealthy Brooklyn family, the Rimplegars that discovers they lost most their money in the crash of ’29, and have continued to do so, thanks to their mother’s (the delightfully dotty Mary Boland) limited economic know-how (and her four grown-up children needing to order a taxi each).

Though the sudden lack of funds moves the plot ahead, much of the humor results from the family's interaction with each other. The actors portraying the Rimplegars have great chemistry and repartee, especially the brothers, played by Wallace Ford, Tom Brown and William Bakewell. They fight and bicker plenty, but share great fondness and love for each other as well. When the going gets tough, they support each other; and when things come up roses, they celebrate like there’s no tomorrow, in scenes of such unbridled, ridiculous joy that it’s hard not to smile along with them.

That’s not to say there isn’t some sting in this apparent piece of fluff. Colbert’s fiancée/lodger is a struggling intellectual writer, the kind that keeps cubist paintings and continually muses about life’s lack of meaning. The film has no patience for this artistic type; though he is a romantic at heart, his idealism and devotion to his modern novel (whose prose consists of a strange kind of modern spur of thinking innuendo) costs him a chance to get a job and put food on the table. 

The critique of holding art above survival fits well with the contemporary times. After all it was the mother’s lack of understanding of stocks and keeping money that got them into the whole in the first place (her investment into the Three Cornered Moon mine was the beginning of their woe, hence the title). But this is a comedy, and a highly enjoyable one at that. Like Hallelujah I'm a Bum and Sullivan's Travels, it somehow manages to squeeze out laughs from the dark reality of the Great Depression, thanks to wit, heart, and a great cast.

I Confess (1953)

Hitchcock films are usually divided into two groups: the ones that are continually discussed, re-evaluated and shown to film students--the classics (Pyscho, North By Northwest, Rear Window, etc.) Then there are the little known ones, the ones that only cinephiles know about, the less cared for films (Under Capricorn, Jamaica Inn, Stage Fright, etc). Today's film is part of the latter group, and alas, there are good reasons why.

The premise is as follows: late one night, a church caretaker (O.E. Hasse) tells Father Logan (Montgomery Clift) that he is a murderer. Since he does so in a Confessional, the priest feels that he cannot tell others of what was told to him. Unfortunately for him, what evidence the cops have point to Logan as the prime suspect.

            This potentially interesting premise gets a mostly lackluster treatment. None of the performances are particularly memorable. Not Clift, who is given plenty of angst time, but not enough chance to really show or give voice to his inner conflicts. Anne Baxter, as Clift’s love interest from before he joined the cloth, cried plenty but only moved me to frustration: often I felt like yelling at the screen "I know that you love this guy, and you told the cops about it, so why are you so modest on the darn stand?!!" Even the murderer, played overly sinisterly by Hasse, who starts out as a tormented grey-scale character quickly changes to a two-dimensional villain.

            Oh, and don’t get me started on the score. With some exceptions (Strangers on a Train  and High Noon) I can’t stand Dimitri Tiomkin soundtracks. His music usually alternates between extreme bombasticness or incredible sentimentality. This film is no exeption, and continually hearing his music over the action (his allows few non-musical moments) is enough to lower my what little liking I have of the movie.

           Despite all that, however, there are things that I do enjoy about the movie. The camerawork and framing are often beautiful, showing off some very nice-on location scenes of Quebec. The contrasts between strong sunlight and shadows are stark, and add an extra level of seriousness that the rather thin script barely manages to convey.

            On the whole, I would only recommend this film to those who are die-hard Hitchcock fans, and those who are interested in Catholic-themed films. And even if you do fullfill those requirements, a warning: this is pretty slow going.

The Silver Cord (1933)

Based on a play by Sidney Howard, the set-up is deceptively simple: two brothers bring their girls to visit their doting, loving,  and perfect mother. The eldest (Joel McCrea) has recently married a biologist (Irene Dunne) who won't let matrimony prevent her from working; the youngest (Eric Linden) is engaged to a headstrong, straightforward girl (Frances Dee). It appears that Mother (Laura Hope Crews) is pleased with how things turned with her perfect boys. But the further plans she has for them don't take the girls into consideration.

            Now this is a movie that psych majors are sure to really enjoy. There is so much Oedipal subtext that is ridiculous! It is a fascinating portrait of the ultimate domineering mother whose extreme love for her sons is matched by her fierce lashing out at anything or anyone that could take them away from her. This self deluding monster doesn't for a moment think what she is doing is wrong. On the contrary, she considers herself a model of perfect motherhood, which is what makes her so terrifying. It's a real show-stopper of a role, and Ms. Crews’s melodramatic yet mesmerizing performance totally owns it.

            The rest of the cast is also very good: McCrea is fine as the stronger of the two sons, with the weaker one played by to a snooty, spineless perfection by Linden. The younger women of the cast deserve special mention.  Dunne and Dee are both straight-talking and strong-willed, and get plenty of time to shine.

            Now, this film is based on a play, and it shows it: most of the action takes place inside of the Mother’s house, the camerawork is static, and there are plenty of monologues galore. But the story and dialogue is interesting enough to prevent it from being boring. enough, and the interactions between the different people are effective, and often brutal.

            Though it does not have that much action, I can say with satisfaction that this film is very good and worth sitting: there is enough innuendo and drama to fill to keep one's attention.

The Mating Season (1951)

A man from a lower-class (John Lund) falls in love with a beautiful and kind girl who is also incredibly rich (the always glamerous Gene Tierney) . However, he is embarrassed by his background. When his hamburger stand-owning mom (Thelma Ritter) comes to stay, his wife mistakes her for hired help. Not wanting to embarrass her, the mom goes along with it. How long can they keep up with this charade?

            This is Thelma Ritter’s movie, no doubt about that. Even though she is fourth billed, underneath the less seen Miriam Hopkins.  But the characters are all connected to her in some way, and she is the center of the action.

            I don’t know why the title is The Mating Game. There is probably ten minutes of the film dedicated to actual courtship before the sudden wedding. The only thing I can guess it refers to is the complications of relationships. I don’t know, maybe I am just reading far too into it.

            Now, I previously refered to this being Thelma Ritter’s movie. Thankfully, she is her usual charismatic self, being both goodhearted and no-nonsense at the same time. Here, she is kind of  like a street talking Mary Poppins.

            Ah, but another great performance is from Miriam Hopkins. She is amazing as a mother-in-law from Hell: snobby, whinny and nagging.  She praises Mussolini’s health practices and orders Ellen (thinking she is a servant) to not call her by her by her first name. She and Ritter steal scenes whenever they are onscreen.

            As much as I like the performances, I felt that sometimes sugar-sweet sentiment got in the way of the humor. That’s not to say it wasn’t funny, but I do wish that it moved at a more quicker pace. Still, I would recommend this film, on the strength of Ritter and Hopkins.

The True Glory (1945)

This film is not that well known. Understandable, considering the comparative lack of widespread interest in old documentaries, including those made in war time. The True Glory, however, I think should gain a greater audience.

            It is a documentary about the Allied invasion of Germany, which consists of using real footage and narrations from those who served on the front.

            I must say upfront that this is a very obvious piece of propaganda, but there is no denying that it is a very well-made one. The wartime footage is amazing. There are shots from sea, from the ground, and from planes. There are battle footage, and shots of peace and quiet. But what holds it together are the narrations, spoken by those serving in the armed forces.

            You don’t know their names, but that does not prevent you from paying attention to what they are saying. They from the army, from the navy, the airforcee, and the war rooms. They have to deal with weapons, death, cold, and lack of direction and communication. They are men and women; American, British and French. They talk about prepareing for D-day, the invasion, and events leading up to the end of the war in Europe. Sometimes amusing indents are revealed, but most of the time there is a somber mood. These stories are full of colorful language and paint great portraits of the type of people who were part of the armed forces.

            Now keep in mind, this is no “Saving Private Ryan.” Most of the violence is skipped over (after all, the purpose of this government-sponcered film was to boost moral) but one still sees disturbing imagery, none more so then a sequence in a consentration camp.

            But this a well put together piece of propogana, with no small help from uncreditied co-director Carol Reed. The editing of the clips is masterful, and the inspirational music drive the film onward with gusto. The final message a teamwork is worth paying attention too. And as a timecapsel of show the (brief) positive relations between the Russians and the Americans before the war won, it is worth seeing.

Patterns (1956)

Fred Staples (Van Heflin) is the executive in a New York company. In this cut-throat, white-collared business world, he has to deal with a morally unscrupulous boss, Walter Ramsey (Evertt Sloane), in addition to his own conflicting ambitions.

        I never thought that a movie about office politics could be this interesting (sorry Executive Suite, but you did have your slow parts, despite arriving earlier), well-made, and creative. Of course, it helps to have an interesting and well written script by Rod Serling, and some first-rate performances.
        Though Mr. Heflin an effective low-key lead, Mr. Sloane steals the show as a dozy of a mean boss, Toward the few employers that he likes, he puts on the appearance of congeniality, and acts, to quote a female character, "simple and childlike". However, most of the time, especially at board meetings, he is a ruthless, heartless, and just plain cruel Boss from Hell. It is an amazing performance, and Sloane was completely up to it.
        Though I have already praised, Serling's script, I will do so again. His writing was sharp and memorable. You know a script is good when the monologues have you on the edge of your seat (sorry, Stanley Krammer....).
        Some of the staging are simple, but highly effective: for example, there is a scene showing a character overhearing other characters talking; however the camera is completing focused on the former. Techniques like this were borrowed from the film's original incarnation as a made-for-TV movie, but work just as well on the big screen. Additionally, there are some nice lighting effects, and a few on location exteriors shot in NYC which further add flavors of authenticity in the production.
        A further thing that is very impressive about Patterns is that how little it has aged over time. There are still problems with keeping ones morals in a competitive job market, and there are still bosses that are cruel and mean. Overall, I highly recommend this film: its lack of comic relief my turn off some views, but it is an effective and intense drama.

The Ghost Goes West (1936)

           In 18^th Century Scotland, a flirtatious Scot (Robert Donat) is killed running away from a rival clan. Because of his cowardliness, he is doomed to walk in his family castle as a ghost, until a relative can confront a relative of the rival clan. In the present day, his last descendent (Donat again) has to sell his castle to an American family, the Martins, and they want to bring it back to the States. What is a ghost to do?

            This movie was a disappointment: I though that Mr. Donat and a plot similar to The Canterville Ghost would make an interesting movie. Alas, I was proved wrong: this often slow moving, and sometimes dreadfully dull.

            The performances aren’t bad, but I though that Donat played his two characters (the ghost and his modern descendent) in the same way. Not too similar that I was confused between them, mind you, but enough that I found neither particularly memorable. And the love interest, curtesy of Jean Parker as  one of the castle's new owners, is so bland, that I felt myself beginning to fall asleep every time she was on screen.

            Not all is bad, though. The film really starts moving when they actually get to America, an hour into the movie. From there, there are some wonderfully jabs at Americanizing foreign things, mostly through how Mr. Martin (Eugene Pallette) gives the castle a makeover for an "authentic" highland party: a gondola in the moat surround the castle, a light show, or, my favorite, a jazz band playing Scottish tunes in a Latin American style (while in kilts, no less!)

            If the movie had spent more time in America, and less time in the highlands, and focused more on Scotish-American relations, instead of on the love-story, it would have been better. I think that was a major strength in The Canterville Ghost: it paid attention to the ghost, but also spent time making fun of the clash between American and British ideals.  But since Ghost Goes West spent so much time being wishy washy about money and Debts on the mainland, it unfortunately becomes forgettable.

Tom, Dick and Harry (1941)

Janie (Ginger Rogers) has a simple plan: to marry a rich fella and live happily ever after. But reaching her goal gets complicated when she finds herself engaged to not one, but three different men: ambitious Tom (George Murphy), wealthy Dick (Alan Marshal), and happy-go-lucky Harry (Burgess Meredith). What’s a girl to do?
           This is an extremely amusing comedy, with a clever, if gimmicky, premise: Janie after Janie goes on a date with each of her boyfriends, she has a dream in which she pictures married life with one of them will be like. The repeated structure worked out beautifully with each alteration; these sequences are laugh out loud funny, and quite odd and surreal. Of the Forgotten Films that I have watched so far, this is one of my favorites.  It’s the kind off film that leaves you feeling warm, fuzzy, and just plain happy inside.

            Now, this was not a perfect movie. The characters are two-dimensional (at best), and much of enjoyment of the film hangs on your tolerance for Rogers continually baiting her poor fiancees.
            Thankfully the film itself manages to overcome these flaws. All the actors are wonderful, somehow managing to invest their paper-doll personas with charm and humor (with the exception Phil Silvers, who is in a (mercifully) brief cameo).

            As if you couldn’t tell, I really, really liked this quirky movie, and whole-heartedly recommend it. This is one romantic comedy that defies your expectations, in the most wonderfully weird ways possible.

Doorway to Hell (1930)

Lew Ayres plays a young but powerful gangster, who organizes all the big-time bootleggers in the city to stick to their own territories, with himself as boss. This works out swell, until Lew decides to go straight and head to Florida to look after his little brother, whom he had enrolled into military school. Predictably, things quickly go to hell in the city. And some guys will go to desperate measures to get him back….

            I was weary about seeing an early talkie gangster films, especially after the disappointments of Alibi (1929) and Little Caesar (1930). Those two , like many movies from the time period, were hampered by stiff cinematography, bland acting, and dull dialogue. However, Doorway to Hell was not as bad as I expected. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised.

            First off, let’s get the highlight of this thing out of the way: James Cagney has a supporting role as Ayres's best pal and second hand man. This was made a year before “The Public Enemy” made him a star, and already he steals whatever scene he is in. Heck, when he is in the same frame as the star, he can't help but focus your attention on him.

            Alas, the same thing cannot be said of Ayres. Though he's miscast (I found it really hard to suspend disbelief that he of the All Quiet on the Western Front  fame could hold an entire criminal empire in the palm of his hand) but he was effective in making a charming and likable crook, a usual site in pre-code ganger films.

            Another person you should keep an eye out for is a pre-Renfield, Dwight Frye, in bit part. He gets to do a drive-by shooting with machine-gun hidden in a violin case in the opening.True, he doesn't have time to go Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and bug out his eyes in that gloriously insane way of his, but it's pretty great to see him comparatively sane role.

            Visually and plotwise it's rather conventional, with some exceptions. There are some lovely examples of using a camera to show, not tell, harkening back to the days of silent films. In addition, there are double-deals, betrayals, murders, a woman who has an affair with her husband’s best friend, a prison break, more gangster talk than you can shake a stick at, and of course, Cagney. In case you can't tell, this is definitely a must-see for any fan of old-school gangster films.