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.

Why Change Your Wife (1920) / Mad Dog Morgan (1977)

(note: this is a ye olde review from 1 year ago that I forgot to post)

Mood whiplash double feature. First, a fluffy silent comedy about marital difficulties, followed by a piece of ozploitation.

Why Change Your Wife

Gloria Swanson (the wife), Thomas Meighan (the husband) and Bebe Daniels (the gold-digger who steals said husband) were utterly charming. So was the movie for that matter, what with all those silly fashions of 1920: patterned stocking and knee-length swimsuits and wrap around strapless negligees with fur trimmings.

It's similar in plot to director Cecil B. DeMille's previous Don't Change Your Husband (1919), another comedy of remarriage, and has the same basic outline, but gender flipped: married protagonist is unhappy with spouse, leaves spouse for another, seemingly more "romantic" alternative, turns out spouse #2 sucks, so protagonist returns to spouse #1, who in the meantime has loosened and glammed up, and they remarry happily.

In this one, the wife transforms from prim prude to saucy minx. The movie itself is a bit condescending towards women, not surprising considering the time period. Meighan is consistently presented as being a square guy practically pushed into the arms of Daniels by uptight Swanson's killjoying ways. But because this is a comedy, one overheard piece of gossip is enough for the newly divorced Swanson to completely overthrow her puritan ways and put on the plums.

But I couldn't dislike this movie. The plot itself is so simplified, the mood so lighthearted, and the sets and costumes so lovely, that I found it immensely enjoyable. DeMille movies, especially his silents, can have wonderful bits of understated humor - not much of the banana slipping variety (though we do get a banana peel here played for comedy and tragedy), but more humor created out of the facial expressions as they eye roll,  smell perfume,  and get put in inconvenient or awkward. A comedy of the senses, where everything works out and sorts out, with even the gold digger getting a new man.

Mad Dog Morgan

A lot of fake beards in this movie. Enough to make ZZ Top jealous.

Can't say that I'm in the proper position to make any sort of judgement, as the copy I saw was an obviously censored and scratched up pan-and-scan. Dennis Hooper was quite a.....presence, what with his 3 fake beards and Irish brogue. The film is disjointed, consisting of barely tied together ultra short vignettes. Morgan is humanized compared to the mean and sadistic trackers, though I guess it's to the filmmaker's credit that they don't glam him up too much, showing him to be a crook way over his head but too bullish to back down. (I wonder if anyone has done a comparison between American, English, and Australian outlaws of the 18th-19th century, and how they are portrayed, culturally and historically, in their respective countries.)

I'm undecided wether Mad Dog Morgan's frequent use of jump cuts made it avant-garde, or if was just sloppily put together.  The result felt simultaneously sleazy and pretentious, but either way I ended up rather bored.

Borat: Cultural Learnings of American for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (2006)

Yesterday, I finally caught up with the rest of the world and saw Borat, 9 years late. Strange experience, viewing it long after it became a high school meme, when fellow school mates (mostly guys) annoyed the hell out of everyone with their repeated exclamations of "very nice, how much!"

And the movie itself was quite funny; had I seen it earlier, I'd probably be one of those quoting idiots (Oh, who am I kidding; I was one of those quoting idiots; it was that prevalent, like how Napoleon Dynamite (2004) was inescapable in Middle School). Again, it was a bit disorienting, see it years after the media hullaballoo that surrounded it: the interviews, the quoting, the infamous bare-ly there swimsuit, and all that suing. Now that the smoke has dissipated, I can now see why it pissed off so many people, including all of Kazakhstan, and was so highly regarded by critics.

The latter is partially due to its humor, and partially because it's a genuinely amusing satire of  the Bush Jr. days, when America was very diffidently "fuck ya!" after 9/11. Kinda like Team America: World Police (2004),  Borat takes aim at the foibles and ignorance of American Culture, milking laughs from an outrageous outsider's perspective, and showing up snobs and bigots in the process when they partake, intentional or not, in very politically incorrect banter.

Would I rewatch it again? Maybe, if it was on TV; it did make me laugh, after all, despite its dry spells, which is more than many other, longer comedies have done.

In conclusion, I'm glad I finally saw this very funny movie.

Things I found particularly humorous: The very Soviet credits. Borat's commentary during the Kazakhstan scenes. The unsuccessful attempts to get intimate with aggressive and/or fleeing New Yorkers. Successful attempts to party at the gay pride parade (foreshadowing of Brüno)? The nude wrestling. Travels across America with a bear tied up in the back of an ice cream truck, and a chicken stuffed in a suitcase.

Accidentally? Feminist rating: Borat continually objectifies woman to a beyond-absurd degree, but the women themselves come off comparatively well, with the interviewed feminists, Borat's prostitute date, and Pamela Anderson somehow managing to hold onto their dignity.