Other Men’s Women Director: William A. Wellman Writer: William A. Wellman; story by Maude Fulton Cinematographer: Barney McGill Producer: unknown by Jon Cvack A quick 70 minute flick that’s a bit less risque than you’d expect from a pre-code film, in which the alcoholic train yard worker Bill White (Grant Withers) is kicked out of his boarding house for boozing, taken up by his buddy Jack Kulper (Regis Toomy ) whose wife Lily (Mary Astor) soon develops an attraction to Bill, and the pair enter into a love affair. Things come to a head when Jack discovers their relationship, culminating in a fist fight in the train engine car where Bill takes Jack down, who falls and bangs his head. He wakes up blind. Lily gives up on Bill, hoping to renew her commitment, but Bill sends her away, wanting to avoid any temptation. A rainstorm comes in, the cars are loaded with tons of concrete, and the flooding puts an old steel bridge at risk. Wanting to prove himself, the blind Bill stumbles through the rail yard to drive the train loaded with concrete off, ostensibly a suicide mission as the bridge likely won’t hold the weight, which it doesn’t, collapsing into the rushing waters. The story is comparable to Wings (1927), though with a much lower budget, in having a woman come between two best friends. Granted, the couple in this case is married, and it’s likely this dynamic that led it into the “Forbidden Hollywood” box set. We don’t really see Bill and Lily do much more than flirt, offering more a suggestion of what’s going on, than anything else. Jack’s blindness is gawky at best, and the final sequence is comparably awkward, as Regis Toomey isn’t all that great at playing the disability, stumbling around, tripping over, but clearly able to see these minor stunts. As to why or how he finds the engine loaded with concrete is beyond me, but it’s made up for by a great miniature steel bridge with roaring rapids beneath. It’s quite the climax for a movie about infidelity and just brief enough to be enjoyable. The Purchase Price Director: William A. Wellman Writer: Robert Lord; story by Arthur Stringer Cinematographer: Sidney Hickox Producer: unknown by Jon Cvack The second film included on “Forbidden Hollywood’s” disc three, shared with Other Men’s Women. An awkward and confusing beginning, featuring an early Barbara Stanwyck as New York lounge singer Joan Gordon who’s left her criminal boyfriend Eddie Fields (Lyle Talbot) for the more honorable and respected, Don Leslie (Hardie Albright), but when Don’s father finds out about Joan’s past relationship, and not wanting the family name tainted, he demands Eddie break off the engagement. With no protection, she has to Montreal, she gets word Eddie knows her whereabouts. Joan learns that one of the hotel maids has been using Joan’s picture as a way to communicate with a mail order bride service, with some man living in North Dakota. Joan pays the maid $100 for his address where she’ll just continue the ruse; figuring it the best chance for her safety. This all takes place within maybe five minutes or so and seems needlessly complicated, but the set up is effective enough. Joan arrives in the middle of nowhere, picked up by the maid’s former beau, Jim Gilson (George Brent), who’s blown away by Joan’s beauty. He takes her back to the cabin where she gets the bedroom and he gets the floor. Frustrated and clearly aroused, he enters the bedroom and forces a kiss on her and she slaps him. The next night, the community comes raging in with barrels of hard cider and gets completely smashed. The farm is in dire straits, though Jim had allegedly come up with a variety of wheat that can save the ailing farm which is about to be foreclosed; with some interest from a local man, Bull (David Landau) who’s interested in buying up the property and unhappy when Jim avoids the sale. Joan soon comes around to Jim, and learns the ways of the farm, eventually falling in love with him. But when a snow storm comes in, Joan returns to find Jim had brought in a man stranded - Eddie. A fight breaks out as he demands to bring Joan back home, and Jim beats him down. Joan begs for Eddie to help pay off the bank, and Eddie agrees, but Bull then attempts to burn down the harvested wheat. They put out the flames before total destruction. They live happily ever after. It’s fast, and similar to Other Men’s Women, a bit too fast to be effective. The foundation is needlessly confusing as I’m not entirely sure why Joan needed to dump Eddie and shack up for literally minutes with Don who then plays zero role in the rest of the film. Why not pull a Sister Act (1992) and have her witness a murder or something thereabouts which causes her to rush off? From there, the story is your usual arc of city-girl meets country-boy, resistant and then coming around. But with only about fifty minutes or so to explore the dynamic, it just doesn't provide enough room. Granted, Stanwyck is a bombshell, and while there’s nothing all that scandalous beyond her reveal in a tight nightgown, it’s far more revealing than anything you’re used to from the period. BELOW: Wish I could find the train disaster from Other Men's Women, but oh well Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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Director: Mark Sandrich Writer: Allan Scott and Ernest Pagano Cinematographer: David Abel and Joseph F. Biroc Producer: Pandro S. Berman Having just watched The Gay Divorce (1934), I figured maybe I broke through some barrier; perhaps I was wrong about Top Hat (1935) and Swing Time (1936) and maybe Astaire and Rogers just take some getting use to. Shall We Dance confirmed my previous position, in that here’s another film from the pair which just doesn’t seem to be about anything other than a messy love triangle that breaks into some pretty good song and dance numbers. Watching the bonus feature, I learned that producer Pandro S. Berman and his creative team started to struggle by this 7th edition; not wanting to abandon what worked, but feeling as though they were long repeating themselves. To change things up, George Gershwin and Astaire opted for a ballet focus. Unfortunately that has nothing to do with the thin plot, involving Peter Peters (Fred Astaire), again a famous dancer who falls for Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers) who’s again not interested, but a slimy publicist then fabricates a story to show the two are married, which pisses off Linda who then gets engaged to another guy in spite, but then Peter and Linda then actually get married, but then divorced when Linda catches Peter with another predatory woman and misunderstands the situation. But things quickly resolve in lightning fashion which I don’t entirely understand how the two end up together. What made The Gay Divorce work so well is that it was a great story with musical numbers stitched in between. Like their other films, this film creates a messy and forgettable story, leaving only the musical numbers to stand on their own. And a few of them do, including the introduction of the famous “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” and another great set piece in the ship’s engine room called “Slap That Bass” (though I’m not sure why Peter went into the engine room and broke into song). So little of it seems motivated, as though George Gershwin’s score came first and the story came in a far distant second. I’m confident I’ll entirely forget what this film was about soon enough. BELOW: Not sure what this had to do with anything, but it's a great jam Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Mark Sandrich Writer: George Marion Jr., Dorothy Yost, and Edward Kaufman; based on Gay Divorce 1932 musical by Dwight Taylor Cinematographer: David Abel Producer: Pandro S. Berman by Jon Cvack It’s odd when certain films seem to occupy almost no position in memory. I struggle to recall which Ginger Rogers/Fred Astaire pairings I’ve seen, only to remember that Top Hat (1935)was one of the more disappointing movies I’ve seen from the era and it looks like I gave Swing Time (1936) the same three star rating and gave The Bang Wagon four stars, and yet I can’t tell you a single scene that separates one film from the other; other than Top Hat’s “I’m in Heaven” score and that’s mostly because of its involvement in The Green Mile (1999). All of these films operate in that strange musical transitional period, in which if the songs and dance numbers were removed, it would have absolutely no impact on the story, all while being the best parts. I had a blast with The Gay Divorce, as at last so it seems right now, both the plot and characters seemed incredibly memorable. It involved famed dancer Fred Astaire as Guy Holden and his neurotic friend and lawyer Egbert (Edward Everett Horton; one of the great character actors from the period) as they travel across Europe. Opening at a nightclub, we get a pretty funny scene as Egbert and Guy watch a show, only for the waiter to drop off their check and Egbert to realize he’s forgotten his wallet; revealing Guy’s worldwide fame and forcing him to do a quick tap dance to avoid the two having to wash the dishes throughout the night. Later in England, Guy meets the gorgeous Mimi Glossop (Ginger Rogers) and falls in love at first sight. Not wanting to give him the time of day, Guy continues to pursue, going so far as to get in a car chase, blocking her at an intersection, and revealing a picnic he packed. Still she remains cold and soon Guy and Egbert are forced to depart to head back home. With Egbert’s father out of town, he’s left to manage the law firm; later approached by both Mimi and her Aunt Hortense (Alice Brady). Mimi is in need of a divorce from her geologist husband, Cyril Glossop (William Austin), who’s always overseas. Just ten years prior to the film being made in 1924, divorce was finally granted to women who could prove adultery. It’d be another three years in 1937 when divorce would be granted to women due to alcoholism, insanity, or desertion. Take a moment to think of that for a moment - less than a hundred years ago, a man could be cheating his wife and never be home, off on drunk benders, leaving her to care for the children and there’d be nothing the woman could do about it. Mimi attempts to gain the divorce by having Eghert hire a performer who’ll pose as Mimi’s lover, for her husband to then catch and prove the grounds for the divorce. Suffice it to say, this was an incredibly progressive film. Guy and Eghert arrive in a small beachside town to complete the mission where there’s an incredibly sexy and revealing song and dance number with women showing off every bit of their legs and bodies; nearly driving Eghert to sexual madness. Eghert has hired a Frenchman performer Rodolfo Tonetti (Erik Rhodes) to pretend to be in bed with Mimi, who has to be one of the funniest characters I’ve seen from the period; playing an aloof man with a great heart, who’s unable to keep up with the fleece. Looking deeper, this man was called a co-respondent and who was a person charged with philandering with the husband’s wife; essentially in order to prove the divorce, this individual would then need to testify under oath. One of the cleverest and funniest pieces of the film is when, while deep into love sickness and on the brink of giving up, Guy defends his pursuit by saying “Chance is a fool's name for fate.” Eghert finds this line incredibly profound and decides to give the quote to Rodolfo and Mimi in order for the two to find each other, though of course Rodolfo forgets the line, ranting off a non-stop barrage of hilarious alternatives, including: chance is the foolish name for fate, give me a name for chance and I am a fool, fate is a foolish thing to take chances with, I am a fate to take foolish chances with, chances are that fate is foolish, fate is the foolish thing, take a chance. Meanwhile, Guy recites his actual line back to Mimi who then thinks that Guy is the co-respondent, inviting her back to his room, where just before anything happens, Rodolfo, still reciting the wrong lines to which the two sneak out to an extensive and massive song and dance number that goes on for about ten minutes before Mimi and Guy return and Rodolfo remains until the next day when Mimi’s husband Cyril finally finds them; to which one of the waiters reveals that he’s seen Cyril before on the ship with his other “wife”. Something about this movie just felt great from start to finish. It’s the film I’ve been waiting for when hearing about the 10-volume collaboration between Rogers and Astaire. At a little under two hours, the film somehow feels less than ninety minutes as it races between settings, pulling you along with a fascinating plot, and then entering into a hilarious comedy of words. The song and dance numbers are so impressive that you forget out how superfluous they are, and how fun it’d be to have American films reintroduce the format; of a feel good story where to break into the numbers is done for no other purpose than to provide further escape. BELOW: Songs that serve no purpose other than being pretty Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: William Dieterle Writer: Sonya Levien and Bruno Frank (adaptation); The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo Producer: Pandro S. Berman Cinematographer: Joseph H. August by Jon Cvack Recently on 2019’s Hollywood Round Table, Alfonso Cuarón mentioned that he had a bad time working on Great Expectations, blaming the poor experience on Hollywood. Throughout the interview, Stephen Galloway pressed Cuarón on what he meant by such a thing (just as he did Bradley Cooper on why Beyonce dropped out of A Star is Born (2018), and Marielle Heller on the various drop outs on Can You Ever Forgive Me (2018)). Entering mid-year eight in LA, I recognize the look they each give; which is to protect your social capital by avoiding any juicy details which can embarrass future or present dealmakers. Cuarón went a bit deeper than a carefully worded diversion, explaining that he needed money and was willing to sacrifice his vision in order to accommodate the studios. The adaptation suffered as a result. Moderately along in my journey through world literature’s greatest books, I recently finished "Don Quixote" (1615; and was bored out of my mind for the vast majority of it). What most great books demonstrate is the necessity of length. What can take over a month to complete forces you to live with particular characters and follow them along an - ideally - grand journey that provides the profound and universal insights that all of the greatest pieces of literature contain. It’s why the old adage that bad books make good movies is so true. It’s a miracle any time a movie can somehow condense the material of a great work into something that retains the message, spirit, and essence. 1939 is known for being one of the greatest years for movies in the history of cinema - The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Stagecoach, Young Mr. Lincoln, Goodbye Mr. Chip, and Ninotchka. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a fascinating story where for the first half it feels as though it would make a far greater read than viewing. I haven’t ever seen the Disney version, though it’s when I piece together what the story is about, that I’m all the more impressed that Disney adapted what is a fairly serious and political tale. The film takes place in 15th Century France against the historic backdrop of an overdue peace after the Hundred Years War. To avoid the arduous task of rehashing the plot (this is where I imagine the book resolves the problem of cramming in too much information), essentially there are three rungs of society we follow - the common people, the nobility (specifically the courts), and the clergy which is located in the legendary Notre Dame cathedral, where the deformed hunchback Quasimodo lives, played by Charles Laughton (who makes the film worth a viewing alone), works as the bell ringer. Within the city are a band of dispersed gypsies, unwelcome by the government and people, including the beautiful Esmeralda (Maureen O'Hara). Meanwhile, the local Chief Justice Jean Frollo (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) wants to do all in his power to prevent the burgeoning printing press, led by Pierre Gringoire (Edmond O'Brien), from moving forward; concerned that the masses couldn’t possibly handle the truth they might read and therefore end up causing a revolution that could destabilize the entire country which has finally achieved peace. He also leads the cause in getting the gypsies out of town by the age old tactic of stoking fear in the masses that they’re evil, diseased, and not to be trusted. Attempting to have his guards chase her and the other gypsies out of the city, Esmeralda takes refuge in Notre Dame. She meets Quasimodo, and terrified of his deformity, runs out in fear, while Quasimodo falls in love. Esmeralda finds Captain Phoebus (Alan Marshal) who vows to help her, making the mistake of sending his guards in to arrest Quasimodo rather than Frollo. Quasimodo is subject to twenty lashes in the town square, followed by a public shaming where the citizens throw their stale vegetables, rocks, and excrement at him. Only Esmeralda offers to help, providing him a sip of water. Later, Esmeralda attends a party where Frollo admits his feelings for her. Uninterested and uncomfortable, she ends up with Phoebus in a field; in which Frollo then sneaks up and kills him. The movie makes the scene a bit unclear, as it seems like they deliberately left out the specifics of what happened - as I actually took it as Phoebus raping Esmeralda who then killed him out of self defense. Either way, the next day Frollo accuses Esmeralda of murder, who’s then arrested and put on trial, quickly finding her guilty. Facing the Frollo led court, King Louis XI shows up, and sensing the injustice, gives her a 50/50 way out by - while blindfolded - choosing between the king’s dagger and the dagger that killed Phoebus. The wrong choice resulting in death. This was another confusing part of the film, as it seemed like a ridiculous game of chance taken by the King to save the girl. Esmeralda chooses poorly and is sentenced to a death by hanging. Upon the gallows and with the rope around her neck, Quasimodo swings out to save her moments before death. He brings up to Notre Dame’s Bell Tower, where he attempts to flirt by showing off his ringing skills, frightening Esmeralda who’s overwhelmed by the sounds; providing the film’s best scene. According to law, Notre Dame is a sanctuary, but given the trial’s attention, the people want to override that power. Gringoire gets out a pamphlet that they hope can dissuade this action; attempting to reason with the courts and calm the mob. Getting his hands on the pamphlet, the King realizes that public opinion would be helpful in governance should they use the press to their advantage, all while Frollo continues to criticize the press as threatening their power. The people attack the church, and soon get into the church while Quasimodo fights them off by dropping stones, bricks, and hot oil. Soon Frollo gets up to the tower, hoping to kill Quasimodo who later throws him off. Due to the pamphlet, the King then pardons Esmeralda who finally meets Gringoire and the two leave off together; leaving Quasimodo alone at the church. I can’t think of a film about a classic novel that so badly made me want to read the book (perhaps Cuaron’s Great Expectations (1998) being the exception). While the movie is okay, it’s piecing together the story that piques my interest. What we see is a tale that’s eerily relevant to today’s world - in which those who wish to retain power attempt to destroy the free press and exploit the masses. Like freed black people from the late 19th century, the Jews from the mid-20th century, the Latinos today, or the Gypsies in this story, it’s increasingly apparent that those in power have always turned the masses against the marginalized and oppressed. While I’m unaware of the specific details, it’s clear that Frollo wanted to use the courts to try and skirt the law in his favor, preventing a free press from ever revealing the truth about his actions, or to learn anything about the group he hoped to villainize. What I’m left less certain about is Quasimodo, who while a memorable character and with a great performance from Charles Laughton, seems difficult to fully comprehend within such a brief amount of time as compared to a book. It’s easy to see him as a tragic fool; a mentally disabled man with a big heart who saves the day, and yet I’m sure he serves as a far more lucid and fully fleshed character within such a politically rich story. It’s a two hundred year old story like this that I’d want to show to ambiguous Trump supporters; to demonstrate that what we’re experiencing is not unique, and in fact, is not all that inspired. We have so much literature to comprehend the dangers of the president. It’s a tale as old as time. BELOW: Best scene of the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Leo McCarey Writer: Delmer Daves, Donald Ogden Stewart, and S.N. Behrman Producer: Leo McCarey Cinematographer: Rudolph Maté by Jon Cvack I had no idea An Affair to Remember (1957) was a remake of this film, or that An Affair to Remember was also made by Leo McCarey, for that matter. Funny enough, it was only when the couple mentioned meeting at the Empire State Building that I connected the dots; instantly recalling Rosie O’Donnell’s monologue in Sleepless in Seattle (1993), left to wonder if a movie scene will ever take on such grand, multi-generational significance ever again. The story involves French painter Michel Marnet (Charles Boyer) who meets an American singer Terry McKay (Irene Dunne) aboard a ship cruising across the Atlantic. The two are both engaged, yet find themselves continually bumping into each other, flirting, and developing a strong attraction; all the more complicated by Marnet’s international reputation which puts a spotlight on their attempt at furtive conversation. While the movie falls victim to the cheapness and minimal coverage (not to mention a terrible transfer through Kino Video), it’s soon forgotten when Marnet brings Terry to his visit his grandmother in Portugal; providing what is now a classic scene in any romance where the man shows his tenderness for an elderly woman, concretizing Terry’s attraction to him; knowing that he’s one of the better ones. They then leave, vowing to meet at the top of the Empire State building. Yet when Terry gets hit by a car on the way over, she’s parallelized and far too proud to contact Michel about her injury (a dilemma best described in Sleepless in Seattle). I’ve been trying to find a quote that I came across about Leo McCarey, in which a fellow filmmaker complimented his ability to convey the human experience better than most from the period. He once told others to “...photograph the ugliness of people. I don’t want to distress people.” As simple as films might have been in terms of plot - an old married couple dealing with children that don’t want them in Make Way for Tomorrow (1937), or that of a beneficent priest in Going My Way (1944) and its sequel The Bells of St. Mary (1945) - McCarey somehow captures more heart than any of its replications have achieved. At under 90 minutes and with the feel of a filmmaker that hasn’t fully leaned into the language, Love Affair is one of a handful of films to get a much better remake; and perhaps the only one in which the original was made by the same filmmaker. It’s the type of film that gives you a glance into cinema’s history, providing a rare glimpse of what’s to come and for a film that would have a profound impact on the culture for decades past. BELOW: A tale of two genres Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: George Cukor Writer: Anita Loos and Jane Murfin; based on The Women (1936) by Clare Boothe Luce Cinematography: Joseph Ruttenberg and Oliver T. Marsh Producer: Hunt Stromberg by Jon Cvack The Women was described as one of the first forays into Sex and the City territory, following a cast comprised entirely of women, with not a single male featured in the entire production, including the animals, as even any background artwork featuring animals included only female illustrations (all, that is, except for a single cartoon; though how someone discovered this one exception is beyond me). The story follows five high society Manhattan women, focused primarily on Mary Haines (Norma Shearer) who’s near perfect life is disrupted when she discovers that her husband is cheating on her with a perfume saleswoman Crystal Allen (Joan Crawford). The movie opens up at a chaotic massage parlor, moving from white woman to white woman, which gets confusing in black and white, as with everyone dressed in robes I quickly lost track of who is who, other than to realize that the spa is a gossip colony, spreading information and hearsay with lightning speed, where Mary’s cousin Sylvia Fowler (Rosalind Russell) eventually discovering the affair while receiving a manicure. Mary then hits up the spa to corroborate the story, and in a heartbreaking scene, finds the same manicurist who unleashed the gossip to be the veyr person she’s talking to. She commiserates with her others friends, including: Paulette Goddard as Miriam Aarons, Phyllis Povah as Edith Potter, and Joan Fontaine as Peggy Day. The situation worsens when after a bizarre though beautiful color sequence during a fashion show (again the rest of the movie black and white), Crystal and Mary to bump into each other, with Crystal vowing to maintain their relationship as it’s not worth Mary abandoning her perfect life. The situation’s worsened when she goes to her mother (Lucile Watson) who essentially offers the same advice, and in a cynical rant, declares that on account of men being weak while coveting power and money, infidelity is a normal occurrence which Mary needs to accept, which Mary attempts to do until the her confrontation with Crystal leads the story to the society column. Mary decides to divorce her husband, heading to Reno where it was legal at the time for a woman to carry out the separation without permission from her husband. There she meets three new friends: the tosspot and ranch owner Lucy (Marjorie Main), Countess de Lave (Mary Boland), and tough girl Miriam Aarons (Paulette Goddard), with Peggy showing up later pregnant, dealing with her own complicated love triangle. With her life descending out of control, with nothing to do beyond drinking and going to dinner with the girls, Mary’s husband calls, saying he’s granting the divorce and marrying Crystal. Years later, the film opens on Crystal in a bathtub, talking to Buck, who’s now married to the Countess de Lave, which Mary’s daughter Little Mary hears about, then telling her mother. Mary convinces the Countess to have Buck admit what was going on to Stephen, relegating Crystal back to the perfume counter, and Mary to go fight to get back Stephen. With my sister going back home and my mom falling back asleep, it was just my girlfriend and I who watched the film. And while she failed to see the connection to Sex and the City for the first half, it was finishing the second where she saw the connection; in that, like Sex and the City, for as much as it was meant to empower women and offer a female-centric narrative, it ultimately concluded with the woman (Carrie, I believe) going back to a man named Big who had once abandoned her at the wedding altar (I’ve never seen more than a few episodes). The Women offers a similar conclusion, where rather than finding joy in the poetic justice of Stephen being cheated on by the woman who he was willing to cheat with, Mary vows to get him back. George Cukor was one of the few successful gay directors working at the time (per the era, everyone knew this fact, but he was never open about it). Looking at his filmography you’d see an abundance of female oriented films - My Fair Lady (1964), A Star is Born (1954), Little Women (1933) that all have strong women characters. The ending is a disappointment, but the fact that one of the top directors made a film starring only females, featuring over 130 cast members, you can’t fault the guy for trying to offer a more inclusive Hollywood. I’d bet we never see a studio film of this type ever again, down to the artwork featuring only female animals. It makes you realize that it’s never Hollywood as a whole that's bigoted or sexists, but rather those who fight to maintain the status quo and exploit their positions of power for the wrong reasons. There were some good men out there, even in 1939. Watching this you realize how much further there is to go, as if I saw this when it came out, I figured we’d be far ahead of where we currently are. BELOW: Meeting the other woman Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page The Man They Could Not Hang Director: Nick Grinde Writer: Karl Brown, George Wallace Syre, and Leslie T. White Cinematographer: Benjamin H. Kline Producer: Wallace MacDonald The Black Room Director: R. William Neill Writer: Arthur Strawn and Henry Myers; story by Arthur Strawn Cinematographer: Allen G. Siegler Producer: Robert North by Jon Cvack A Boris Karloff is the type of actor that I’m beginning to enjoy the older I get, as he had been so heavily parodied while growing up that actually seeing the man perform felt uninspired by comparison. The Man They Could Not Hang/The Black Room single disc double feature are two pretty good films made in the 1930s that star the man, providing that beat up black and white aesthetic of haunted houses, castles, and graveyards, now iconic and beautiful to look at, as limited by makeup and effects, they couldn’t do more than rely on creating atmosphere. Black Room involves Karloff playing a dual role, as twin brothers Gregor and Anton of the de Berghmann baronial family. With Gregor having been born first and with a lame arm, per primogeniture, he’s entitled to take over the estate. However, far from anxious for the responsibility, Gregor has decided to travel the world and leaves the castle to his temperamental brother Anton. Prophecy has it that one of the brothers is going to one day kill the other in the The Black Room, and with Gregor’s return, Anton begins devising a plan. Not expecting much from the film other than some great visuals, I was impressed with the story and Karloff’s performance. He shifts from the brooding and creepy Gregor to the charming and sweet Anton with ease. While I was expecting a happier ending, when Anton murders Gregor and dumps his body into the The Black Room I was left thinking of Hitchcock, with a film that pre-dated most of the master’s more modern work by four years. The entire story shifted from the murderous tension between two brothers to that of the town discovering the secret, utilizing the pet dog as a pure Hitchcockian plot devices that would go on to save the day. Classic Universal Horror films were made only three to four years prior, providing more eye candy than substance and that this film would follow, combining similar beautiful set design with a more engaging story, and yet The Black Room and its partner are far more engaging stories. While not completely horror, what they lose in terms of the supernatural, they more than make up for with simple plot wonderfully executed. The Man They Could Not Hang is an equally strong film, playing as a bizarre moral thriller. The story involves Dr. Henryk Savaard (Boris Karloff) who invents a machine to reanimate the dead, displayed within a young kid’s fantasy of a chemistry set. The film opens the night that Savaard wants to try the tool, with one of his medical students offering to be killed and then revived; having that much faith in the Savaard. His nurse Betty Crawford (Ann Doran) refuses to participate, running to the police who then rush back discovering the medical student dead and Savaard and his assistant on the verge of bringing him back to life. The police order him to stop. Despite his protests about the boy, they take him away, leaving the student to die. Savaard is sentenced to death by hanging, with his assistant later retrieving the body in order to reanimate the former student with the device. Revived, Savaard then assembles all those responsible for his death and failure to save the student’s life - from the nurse to police to judge - inviting them to a dinner party where he declares he’s going to kill them all off one by one every fifteen minutes. The film is also only 64 minutes long. While far from a perfect story, coming out in 1939, it continued the exploration of reanimating the dead while embracing a type of Agatha Christie murder mystery at the end. While feeling a bit disjointed, it’s hour and change running time makes it s work, and the final act is some of the most fun I’ve had with a film from the period. The closing sequence reminded me of Saw II (2005), and while this is the better film, I actually could have used another five or ten minutes of watching the victims get killed off one by one, as it was just so cool to see how even in an open room, they’d be forced into lethal situations, never feeling all that forced, especially given the period. Karloff offers another great and undervalued performance as a charming and erudite doctor, corrupted by a system that prevents his knowledge from helping mankind. I was fascinated by his descent from a man passionate for saving life and then toward destroying it. Given that the device could have saved millions, was it worth destroying a half dozen or so people that were standing in the way of that progress? It’s easy to condemn the behavior, and yet think of all those who were killed prematurely and what kind of lives they could have lived if things turned out differently; if the police had gotten there minutes later and Savaard had revived the dead. For a film predating The Twilight Zone by nearly fifteen years, I was left thinking about this one for awhile after. BELOW: Joe Dante (Gremlins ('84), The 'Burbs ('89)) on The Black Room Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: George Cukor Writer: David Hempstead; based on Little Women by Louisa May Alcott Producer: Merian C. Cooper Cinematographer: Henry W. Gerrard by Jon Cvack I’ve never seen the 1994 version of the film, which given the decade I’m dying to get to. While Little Women was remade again in 1949, it was George Cukor’s 1933 version which first captured Louisa May Alcott’s novel (which I’ve yet to read), following the four March sisters Jo (Katharine Hepburn), Meg (Frances Dee), Amy (Joan Bennett), and Beth (Jean Parker) from their teenage years all the way up through their 40s (I thought 30s was pushing it a stretch, but this timeline says otherwise). It was incredible to watch Hepburn make the transformation, as even during the early years and having become spoiled with Boyhood (2014), Cukor does an incredible job of showing the age progression, focusing on everything from the costumes to the thinning hair. I found Katharine Hepburn annoying as ever in this film, with her accent and pretension grating my patience. Jo is clearly Louisa Alcott in the story and I was left wondering whether Hepburn was trying to best capture the author’s spirit, or that she just thought it was a better direction. Unfortunately, the film took on a feel that I’m starting to notice more when watching some classic films; that some are just boring, plain and simple, and the ambiguity of taste, only developed by watching enough films from the period, has learned that it’s okay to not enjoy some well regarded movies. The film left me wanting to read the book, feeling as though it was capturing the most superficial aspects of the story, when you know that the book does a far more thorough job.* Often films that attempt to cram mountains of material in an hour and forty five minutes feel rushed and superficial, as though it was made not to honor the story so much as to make money. Still, the good adaptations at least come close to capturing the spirit. There were a few memorable moments - the play, Jo rejecting the boy who loves her - but beyond that, and especially compared to other Cukor films, it felt empty. A Star is Born (1958), My Fair Lady (1964), The Philadelphia Story (1940), Born Yesterday (1950) - all these film are all so strong when I think back. Little Women isn’t bad, and I imagine anyone that watched it growing up might have grown attached, but then I think they were probably watching the 1994 version, which given the decade, I’m confident is much better. *This was confirmed when I looked up the page count at 816. BELOW: Hepburn's particularly grating in this film Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Leni Riefenstahl Writer: Leni Riefenstahl, Walter Ruttmann, and Eberhard Taubert Cinematographer: Sepp Allgeier and Franz Weihmayr Producer: Leni Riefenstahl by Jon Cvack Triumph of the Will is a one of a kind film, serving as not just a documentation of history but as an historical documentation in and of itself. I had seen clips in college, never all that excited to put on the two hour propaganda film that follows Hitler and his cronies around Berlin. Yet with a growing passion for history and in a time when those on both side of the aisle like to compare the other side’s president to Hitler, and as I’m trying to work my way through an increasingly shorter list of films I need to see, I figured that now was the time. It was directed by Leni Riefenstahl, who was brought specifically for her ignorance of Nazi politics, which as my professor recently told me, is a shame in that one of the first great female filmmakers unfortunately created one of the strongest pieces of propaganda ever made. The film opens up in the skies as we cut between Hitler and his/the plane’s POV looking down upon Germany, as the infamous Godlike figure that’s descending upon Berlin to bring hope and salvation to the troubled masses. For Hitler Nazism was the religion, and it was even Hitler’s grand plan to have his Nazi ideology take over as the state religion and usher out all other organized religions. We then watch as he heads from rally to rally, involving all his esteemed generals - Goebbels, Himmler, Rommel, and countless others - as they inspect countless parades throughout the Berlin streets and parks, culminating in a gathering of 150,000 troops (which honestly sounds like a small number) as Hitler lays a wreath down at the First World War memorial. What you notice throughout the film is there is no mention of a Master Race or Jews, Christians, political dissidents, or the handicapped who he would begin to systematically murder by creating the first Nazi concentration camp at Dachau. And it wasn’t until three years after the film’s release that the Jews were increasingly rounded up and sent off to the camps. Made in 1935, Triumph of the Will captures the moment before Hitler’s determination to create Welthauptstadt Germania (aka New Germania) and usher in a new era of German excellence, comprised of white, blond, blue-eyed, and physically and mentally strong individuals. It’s with this fact in mind that the film becomes all the more terrifying, as the endless display of the Swastika and Eagle (both references to the Roman Legions) trump any Christian or Judeo symbols; if any at all. While there are cathedrals and churches, they’re hijacked to promote the Nazi message. They offer ideas of hope and change, and in age where it’d take a wheelbarrow full of money to buy a loaf of bread, with unemployment rampant, the masses found inspiration in a leader who was vowing to return Germany to a former great time - to Make Germany Great Again; blaming the Jews and other non-German ethnic or religious group who could take the blame and provide an easy and tragic scapegoat for far more complex problems. What makes the film so terrifying is that the images seem so innocent. We see how easy it’d be insert American flags and our American Eagle, make some adjustments to the uniforms and see that, in terms of the how the public responds, it wouldn’t be all that different. One of the finest examples of this fact being the Hitler Youth rallies, along with the hardly adult recruits. We see young men picking on and teasing each other. I have faith that the at least the slim majority of those who served the Nazi cause genuinely thought they were doing the right thing. I keep finding myself wanting to avoid comparing the cause to our current situation, but again, this was shot before Hitler invaded Poland and started World War II. His famous Time Magazine “Man of the Year” would be awarded three years later. What’s most terrifying is that beneath all of these shallow bells and whistles there was an effort to kill millions in order to advance a cause. I was left wondering what some of these same people would say watching the film today; why they believed it or the feelings that it brought about. What Riefenstahl captures is the most terrifying element of any murderous regime; that the people first have to accept the leader's’ intentions as noble and righteous, often to the point of being willing to fight, die, and kill all in the name of that virtue. Before there was internet or phones, I think of how hard it must have been to have ever found the truth; hearing it only from the community or in partisan newspapers, until the information channels were then taken seized and exchange was based purely on hearsay. I don’t believe Trump is a Nazi (at all), but I do think he has a self-serving agenda that makes him want to do whatever it takes to preserve his well being. It creates endless lies and exaggerations, and you can see how much he’d like to control information in order to protect himself. And yet amidst all this, and given all of the information we have access to, it still doesn’t matter to most of his supporters and 90% of Republicans. There are people who choose to ignore facts and are on the wrong side of the history and while I absolutely do not believe this will result in the deaths of millions, I do think it’s defending a crook and generally bad person who's saying what just under half the country wants to hear. Triumph of the Will is effective because it makes you focused on what the future could be rather on the way of getting there. It’s easy and superficial, serving as a tragic demonstration of human nature’s timeless way of choosing such. It’s function as an historical document should serve as a harbinger; that in 1933 it was possible to make an effective piece of propaganda to sway millions of people over to your side; in 2017, with VR, AR, video games, films, television, and endless avenues of media, think of all there is utilize and how effective it could now be. BELOW: Great mini-doc about the film's power and significance Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Michael Curtiz Writer: Robert Buckner Cinematographer: Sol Polito Producer: Hal B. Wallis by Jon Cvack It was exciting to check out Errol Flynn and Michael Curtiz continue in their adventure collaborations, from the swashbuckling The Sea Hawk and Captain Blood, or classic tale of Robin Hood. Given how clean cut Flynn was, it’s hard to compare Flynn to anyone today, with Harrison Ford being the closest I can think of. The film’s are pioneers of the modern action film - where we expect limited story for maximum action. Per the Netflix synopsis, Dodge City allegedly brought back the Western, and given the duo’s involvement in other films throughout the 1930s, I was confident that it was going to be an exciting film; though contrary to the excitement of the aforementioned, I was expecting a lot more. The story involves the town of Dodge City that’s fallen victim to lawlessness and constant violence, recruiting a new and charismatic Sheriff. Eight years later, this tale would be told in would be better told with one of John Ford greatest films My Darling Clementine, exploring the infamous Ok Corral and Sheriff Wyatt Earp. I’m aware that other towns existed that fell victim to lawlessness; perhaps best explored by HBO’s Deadwood, but as I mentioned in my thoughts on Clementine, one of the most interesting facts behind the battle was that Wyatt Earp implemented a ban on weapons throughout the town, requiring individuals to check them in before entering and thus what we associated with the lawless wild west actually had stricter gun laws than most states in the country. Back to Dodge, eventually Sheriff Wade (Errol Morris) institutes the same policy, discovering a rapid reduction in violence as a result. Knowing this is the story, and if you’re interested in watching an old movie about it, check out My Darling Clementine or Shooting at the Ok Corral. Dodge City contains fragments of pretty interesting stuff - such as when they actually show a child get killed an an extensive and brutal bar fight. A big problem is that Errol Flynn doesn’t fit the Wild West role or environment. We can romanticize Nottingham Forest and a man fighting for his princess, or battling pirates shirtless in the Caribbean. A cowboy’s image demands function beyond form, it’s dirty and rough (as I’m writing this I’m thinking of all types of Queer Theory we could apply to these stories, and what it means that these images were and are so popular amongst men, but I’ll save it). The point is that to be a Wild West Cowboy you can’t have a flawless European pencil mustache, perfect haircut, and talk with an English accent. The West’s portrayal has improved in such significant ways that I think Americans specifically would find Dodge City unrealistic and aged, especially against some other incredible films from the period - The Ox Bow Incident or The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (released just a year later). As I’m writing this (I was home for the holidays), my mother has White Christmas on, also directed by Michael Curtiz. The movie contains only about ten minutes of Christmas-related story, bookended into the film, and yet it’s considered one of the greatest Christmas films ever made. Casablanca, Mildred Pierce, Yankee Doodle Dandy, and that’s just the few of the more popular titles - this guy was one of the greatest directors from the period, with his Young Man with a Horn as one of the most underrated movies from the era. That’s why I’m surprised that this movie felt so polished and voiceless. I suppose if it’s what brought the western back, it’s wrong to look five or ten years down the line to see what came of it, or to the subsequent films that Curtis would go on to make. Keep in mind that both Captain Blood and Robin Hood came out before this film, so it wasn’t like he was some green director. Perhaps he got burnt out on the genre, and yet a year later he went on to make The Sea Hawk. It leaves me all the more certain that the elements just didn’t work in the environment. I’ll have to check out Errol Flynn’s other Westerns and see how it goes. BELOW: A ridiculous barroom brawl; one of two great scenes from the film Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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