 A tragically underutilized career from Olivia de Havilland Director: William Wyler Writer: Ruth and Augustus Goetz; based upon Washington Square by Henry James Cinematographer: Leo Tover Producer: William Wyler by Jon Cvack I'm not a fan of most drama films that take place in the 1800s. They often exist in the privileged upper class worlds where righteous white people commit tiny acts of deceit; failing to acknowledge what is often the greatest crime of character which is complete indifference to the lower classes. Rarely do we hear these characters discuss the bondage all around them. If people of color are in the film, they’re often in positions of service as though normal. The story’s focus and structure embody the moment of history it exists in. I’m not sure why but when I see the name Henry James, I lump him together with Jane Austen, whose four books I read embody these ideas (I struggled to follow; but that’s more because of my disinterest in the plot than because I think she’s a bad writer, which I don’t), and so I went in with expectations to be bored out of my mind. Instead, I discovered a thrilling, Hitchcockian-lite story in which it seems Henry James completely upended the genre's tropes; making me recall that he was the one who wrote “The Turning of the Screw” (1898), which is often the top horror novels ever written. Fortunately, I didn’t know this before going in. The story follows the gawky 30-something Catherine Sloper (Olivia de Havilland) whose father, the wealthy Dr. Austin Sloper (Ralph Richardson), has grown embarrassed and disappointed over his daughter's awkward inability to find a suitor; often disparaging her which Cather fails to notice, blinded by her loving affection toward him. When the family attends a party, Catherine meets the charming and attractive Morris Townsend (Montgomery Clift), whose mysterious past adds to his allure. For the first time, Catherine finds herself helplessly in love and the pair decide to get married, much to the chagrin of her father who refuses to believe that such an attractive young man could be attracted to his awkward daughter for any purpose beyond her money. Catherine refuses to believe, planning to elope with Morris until her father then refuses to pay out the dowry unless Catherine joins her on vacation in Paris for a month; with the hope that she would soon forget Morris. When they return, Catherine finds Morris eagerly awaiting her return; ready to run and get married the moment she walks through the door. Dr. Austin's suspicions fail to subside, and he declares he’ll disown her. Catherine informs Morris of her father's decision and how they’d lose everything but should still get married. Morris agrees and says he'll return later that night; never returning and corroborating Dr. Austin's fears and then breaking Catherine's heart. Time passes, and Dr. Austin grows sick. He self-diagnoses himself in a heart breaking scene, and later explains to Catherine that he has only a brief time to live. She implores him to write her out of the will in order to be able to pursue Morris. Her father refuses, leaving Catherine his entire estate and dying shortly after. It’s only after you think about this scene that you realize how powerful it is. The father in this film begins as a foolish conservative figure, disregarding his daughter’s affection. In the end, my view completely shifted, regarding him as noble and wise. To then think he died believing his daughter would marry the wrong man, and that the man might steal all Dr. Austin had built is a harrowing thought. Years go by and Catherine has grown increasingly recluse, working on her needlework alone, with only the occasional visitor. Morris then returns; now sporting a mustache and wanting to resume their plans for marriage, especially now that her father is out of the picture. Catherine again agrees, explaining that he should come back that night. Once again Morris returns, begging to be let in while Catherine heads upstairs; likely to kill herself and yet we never see the final piece. It’s one of the best endings I remember from the era; leaving just enough ambiguity to keep you thinking about the film for days. Given that I was expecting some complicated romance, it wasn't until about two thirds of the way in that I suspected that Morris might actually have nefarious intentions; made all the more complex by Montgomery Cliff boyish looks and uncorrupted persona. It reminded me of my experience watching The River Wild (1994) for the first time as a kid; not knowing anything about the story, having no clue of Kevin Bacon's villainy; seeing him as an otherwise charming man for the first time. Makes me wonder if it was inspired by this film. Yet it's Olivia de Havilland's performance that stands out above all; especially given the era when I can’t recall many peculiar leading women. So often their paragons of beauty and virtue. The willingness to portray herself with all of the wrinkly crow's feet around her eyes (and this was mentioned on the DVD feature) and inject a courageous amount of awkwardness into each and every scene, all while retaining a modicum of charm and beauty. It created enough complexity to make me wonder what exactly Morris saw in her without making his intentions out of the realm of possibility. For a film about a period I often get bored with, it's one of the best I've ever seen. BELOW: Olivia de Havilland on her co-stars 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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 The movie was in color but I can't find any images Director: Michael Curtiz Writer: Arthur T. Horman, Roland Gillett, Richard Macaulay, and Norman Reilly Raine Cinematography: Wilfred M. Cline, Sol Polito, Winton C. Hoch, and Charles A. Marshall (not sure what this was about) Producer: Hal B. Wallis and William Cagney by Jon Cvack It’s every time I think I’m going to close the available Michael Curtiz films, Netflix adds another couple more to the bucket. The movie sounded interesting enough, following James Cagney as a bomber pilot during World War II. I hadn’t seen a film with Cagney since John Ford’s Mister Rogers (1955; no relation to the show); which was awesome and one of my first experiences with the non-criminal Cagney (other being Curtiz’s other Cagney collaboration Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) and Billy Wilder’s One, Two, Three (1961). Captain of the Clouds offers a hybrid model; following Canadian shipping pilot and scoundrel Brian MacLean (James Cagney) as he delivers loose freight across the bush country; determined to live his life chasing money, women, and alcohol. At one of his regular rest stops, MacLean discovers the beautiful Emily Forster (Brenda Marshall) who’s engaged to fellow pilot Johnny Dutton (Dennis Morgan). Without a care in the world - and straight out of Cagney’s gangster persona - Brian swarms in on Emily; flirting relentlessly and, at times, forcefully. All before fully seducing her when she nurses him back to health after accidentally banging his head against the propeller and Dutton saves him. In gratitude, MacClean joins up with Dutton and his aspiring shipping business, somehow failing to piece together MacClean and Emily's relationship. It's interesting to note that Wikipedia explains this affair in a peculiar way; describing Emily as a “gold digger” and Brian as acting in the good interest of Dutton who would otherwise fall for her manipulations. With very little ambiguity, I saw MacClean as a predator who was willing to forfeit his professional, and potentially personal relationships in order to pursue the women, or anything he desired, for that matter. And if he could make a buck by offering some modicum of reconciliation to someone he hates (that is, Dutton), so be it. Ultimately, without even telling Dutton, MacLean and Emily elope all in an effort to save Dutton the pain of her infidelities. The problem is that Emily never plays like a despicable gold digger, but rather like a love interest swayed by MacLean's charm, which given how weird and sleepy MacClean plays the character, I'm not sure how well even this played out. Without the glamor and danger of gangsterdom, Cagney can’t really pull off the lady’s man. Nevertheless, even learning of the marriage, Dutton and MacClean along with a few other bush pilots enter into some strange and precarious shipping business, culminating in Dutton forced into some into some emergency landing disaster that occurred during a heavy thunderstorm; utilizing a mixture of real aeronautics and a god awful miniature plane model that cut together about as well as oil and water. Yet again, for a moment, Dutton and MacClean worked together; MacClean finally showed actual compassion to his friend, which then faded when they got paid for the gig and again I’m left wondering if he actually cares about anyone but himself. Somehow this all leads to the outbreak of WWII, in which the men are inspired by Churchill's “We Shall Fight on the Beaches” speech and they join the Royal Canadian Airforce; where MacClean learns that he has to learn to fly all over again, take orders, and abandon his rebellious ways; all with the added caveat that his instructor is Dutton, which bites at his pride, getting him kicked out in the process; possibly because he was also too old, which I doubt, though I just don’t remember. During the graduation for the other pilots, MacClean and one of his bush pilot buddies complete a series of drunken flybys until his buddy stalls out and crashes into a fiery death - again with shitty models. Somehow MacClean remains out of jail. Later, when two Canadian transport planes are shot down by German forces, the RCA needs a fleet of extra bomber pilots to transport weapons across seas to Britain. For some reason, although both kicked out for insubordination and nearly killing an entire platoon of fresh Air Force grads whilst drunk flying, he’s welcomed back. Sure enough, the Luftwaffe attack and the bomber planes lie helpless. MacClean again rejects Dutton’s orders, flying his flame into the enemy (Independence Day (1996) style) sacrificing his life for the other men. The film was produced by James Cagney’s brother, who doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page nor all that many credits on IMDb. While his following film he would be Associate Producer on Yankee Doodle Dandy, he’d produce less than twenty films up through 1953, when he wouldn’t produce anything again throughout the next thirty five years up to his death in 1988. I haven’t heard of any of his credits before this film, which appear to be a lot of B and C-grade films; which is kind of what this feels like. Having just read John Steinbeck’s "Bombers Away" (1942), as propagandistic as it feels it does provide you an inside look into the types of people required for each crew position. Coincidentally the book was published the same year (though that’s not why I watched it). This film feels empty of any interest in the field; as though a bridge between Cagney’s gangster performance and the Good Guys he’d later play. It’s clear they hoped to create that hair trigger buddy of yours who would do anything for his friend, but instead MacClean is a self-centered, greedy asshole; who seems as much interested in his own gain from helping people, as he is in the act itself. When he helped Dutton land in the thunderstorm, you could argue it was for the money. But when he sacrificed his life, I couldn’t help feeling it was to make himself into a martyr. I can’t think of a studio film which had such an awful lead character without the irony of following the awful character. MacClean felt designed to be respected. Placed within a plot that bounced from one section to the next, with details failing to blend together and action scenes too ambitious to be achieved, it felt like a film more concerned with betrayal and action than with telling a good story; which it could have been. BELOW: Nothing but a trailer on YouTube so here ya go Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Akira Kurosawa Writer: Keinosuke Uegusa and Akira Kurosawa Cinematography: Takao Saito Producer: Sōjirō Motoki by Jon Cvack I believe High and Low (1963) is the only other contemporary Kurosawa film I’ve seen; a film that mastered the anamorphic frame and should serve as a lesson in blocking for any filmmaker trying for the super wide. Drunken Angel doesn’t provide the same vista, but what it abandons in visuals it more than makes up for in performance, serving as a profound character study about two men struggling to survive in a postwar dystopia full of poisonous cesspools, crime, and undesirables. As Lucas was inspired by Hidden Fortress (1958) increasing C-3P0 and R2-D2, you imagine he took inspiration for Mos Eisley from Drunken Angel. Sanada (Takashi Shimura) is an alcoholic doctor who receives a visit from hoodlum Matsunaga (Toshiro Mifune) who’s been shot in the hand. Sanada resents the man, fixing him simply to earn enough money to maintain his drinking habit. Into the examination, Sanada suspects that Matsugane has tuberculosis; a common ailment the locals have been receiving from the cesspools surrounding the area. Sanada advises Matsunaga to stop boozing and sleeping with women if he wants to have any chance to survive. Having just watched Black Rain (1989) a month or so back which followed a family dealing with radiation poisoning - finding it strange that there have been so few Japanese films to explore the issue. Counter to Ozu's idyllic settings, Drunken Angel embodies the bleak spirit of postwar Japan. After Sanada fixes Matsunaga the narrative splits and we follow both men. We learn that Matsunaga’s boss Okada (Reisaburo Yamamoto) is now days away from prison. Meeting Sanada in the city’s local bar, he succumbs to the x-ray where Sanada discovers a hole developing in one of Matsunaga’s lungs. Nevertheless, he retains his lifestyle of chasing women and getting stucco in bars; his body deteriorating in the process, causing him to drink even more. When Okada’s finally released, he resents Matsunaga’s ailment, disparaging and humiliating him in front of the crew before finally kicking him out. Sanada quickly learns that one of his assistants is one of Okada’s girlfriends; once assaulting and demeaning her on a regular basis and likely to do it again. While Sanada continues to treat the innocent victims of tuberculosis, his drinking spirals out of control. Soon he gets caught in the middle of things when his female assistant runs off into hiding in order to escape Okada to which Okada then tries to use Matsunaga to find her whereabouts through Sanada. Realizing Matsunaga is nothing more than a pawn, and that Okada, his fellow hoodlums, and girlfriend care nothing for his ailment, he runs off. Bedridden and immobile, he refuses to back down, tracking down Okada in order to kill him and providing one of the greatest and most cinematic fights from the period and one of the most satisfying conclusions ever on screen. The roots of alcoholism are the city - whether on account of an indirect infection, the people, or the world in which they all exist. Like any gang member, Matsunaga appears as a byproduct of his environment; in which perhaps another, more Ozuian world he could have had aboveboard success. Instead he couldn’t escape, discovering a world that was entirely selfish; in which no cares for him at all. This stands against Sanada who wants nothing more than help to help people while knowing he’s fighting a losing battle; so long as the swamps exist the people will die an all he can do is ease their pain or try and save the fraction of those doomed. It’s a rare film that examines alcoholism through a prism of the environment. These characters numb themselves with the bottle because reality is far too difficult. As positive as Matsunaga’s final epiphany seems, I got the sense that the children too would become victims - of the bottle, of crime, or the disease. It’s a cynical and yet painfully real film, leaving you to wonder who could possibly escape such an environment; the way they couldn’t escape the bomb that dropped when they had so little, if anything, to do with the world they were fighting; now cursed to forever deal with the effects and watch those they care most about decay and die. In terms of film about the bombing of Nagasaki or Hiroshima this might be the very best. *Granted that was the exact function of them; that is, depicting normalcy in an abnormal world. An idea that Black Rain was exploring with the family attempting a peaceful return to the country BELOW: One of Kurosawa's great fight scenes Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Another gross age difference from mid-century cinema Director: René Clair Writer: Robert Pirosh and Marc Connelly; Dalton Trumbo (uncredited) Cinematographer: Producer: René Clair and Preston Sturges by Jon Cvack Aside from Rene Claire’s amazing adaptation of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None (1945), this is the only other American film I can find of his. I don’t remember much from his other films, other than Under the Roofs of Paris (1930) had a cool opening shot, and that I allegedly saw A Nous la Liberta (1931) about four years ago, but can’t remember anything about it. I Married a Witch was Claire’s entrance into the rom-com, opening up during the Salem Witch trials where both Jennifer (Veronica Lake) and her father Daniel (Cecil Kellaway) are hanged from a tree. Centuries pass, taking us throughout the next 250 years of American History where - in a fusillade of narratives - we discover successful men marrying terrible women near the tree where Jennifer and Daniel died. Lightning then strikes the tree, releasing both of their spirits, where they discover Wallace Wooley (Fredric March) who’s running for governor just a day away from marrying his benefactor’s daughter Estelle Masterson (Susan Hayward). Daniel and Jennifer initially take the form of white smoke before Jennifer convinces her dad to give her a body; taking the form of Ms Veronica Lake. For those who can’t picture the woman, in this film she’s an exceptionally petite 21-year old, who looks like she could still be in high school, pursuing Wallace Wooley who was 45 years old at the time of making this. Given my recent thoughts on The Major and the Minor (1942), I’m genuinely curious if this was a more culturally acceptable position to have seventy years ago. Daniel is fully aware of the power she has over him, often wearing oversized clothes that further diminish her figure and make her look all the younger. She decides she wants to try to sabotage Wallace’s relationship to Estelle Masterson; who’s an insufferable spoiled rich kid who often scolds Wallace into doing what she wants. Her method involves both attempting to seduce Wallace and subsequently sabotaging his political career. First meeting Jennifer, Wallace is overwhelmed by her beauty; desiring her and trying his best to contain it. Jennifer’s first attempt involves sorcery where she sets a hotel on fire. The building was evacuated, but Jennifer stays inside, calling out to Wallace for help. He heads in and saves her, hailed by the city as a hero. Jennifer ends up back at Wallace’s and in his bedroom, and with the wedding only days away, Jennifer attempts every trick in the book to try and win him over. Soon Estelle catches them in an innocuous embrace and she calls the wedding off. Word gets back to the father, who pulls his money from Wallace’s candidacy and starts running attack ads about his infidelities, turning the public against him. Nevertheless, Jennifer returns to her magical ways, and on the day of the election, brainwashes everyone into voting for him. All the while, Daniel has found a body of his own - after using a whiskey bottle to mask his smoke spirit - returning as a blotto Cecil Kellaway, who’s so appalled by Jennifer’s feelings, takes away her power, causing her to get killed in a car accident, returning her to a spirit who manipulates her father to return to Veronica’s body and reunite with Wallace once and for all. It’s not a bad movie, and at only 77 minutes it’s worth checking out. The main issue is that I ultimately never understand Jennifer’s intentions until the final scene. Veronica Lake seems hellbent on seducing Wallace despite the consequences, and while it’s arguably noble in regards to Wallace having a terrible fiance and dishonorable career ambitions, the complete lack of any type of meaningful connection beyond Wallace’s lascivious attraction to Jennifer diminishes the possibility of seeing her intent as anything beyond nefarious. Added is the limpid logic of the witches. I initially thought that they were the ones who cursed the successful men throughout history with a series of cruel wives, but then Jennifer escapes the tree and wants to prevent the tradition from continuing. I assume the relationships were Daniel’s doing, and that Jennifer wanted to fix things. Even so, I don’t understand why Jennifer has to seduce Wallace by wearing oversized pajamas, rather than just attempting to establish a normal connection. Imagine if the part was played by someone less youthful, such as Joan Crawford, who’s so gleeful that she’s free and able to love that she begins courting a politician, showing him the potential mistakes he’s about to make in both love and career, and establishing love from there. Like most films from this era, I understand that love is all too often immediate, but this felt much more superficial and cheap; taking Claire’s fascinating style in a cheap direction. BELOW: Joe Dante (Gremlins, The Burbs, etc.) on 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  A movie impossible to convey with a single poster Director: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Writer: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Cinematographer: Jack Cardiff Producer: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger by Jon Cvack A Matter of Life and Death is a very weird film, keeping right in style with Powell’s other unique pictures. This disc actually had an interview with Scorsese who talks about how, given the year it was released, it was still very much a product of the World War 2 propaganda pieces released over the last five years. Yet sure enough, Powell is able to transcend the genre and produce something unique and unexpected. It opens up in a shot up bomber returning from Germany. Royal Air Force pilot Peter Carter (David Niven) demands his crew bail out. He calls into base, and explains the situation to operator June (Kim Hunter), revealing that his parachute is damaged and he’ll be going down with the plane. Though over just seconds, the two develop a believable attraction, pulling of a miraculous love at first sight (or hear), causing Carter to make the foolish pledge that if he somehow survives the two will meet. The radio then breaks out and Carter decides to jump to his death in order to avoid the agony of a plane crash. Rather than dying, he’s sent the “Other world.” Moments later, he wakes up on the beach, confused as to whether or not he’s conscious. A search plane finds him, and soon he’s back in the hospital with June where the two fall in love. A flamboyant man by the name Corridor 71 (Marius Goring) suddenly stops time, taking Carter back to the Other World where Carter learns he should have died in the accident; pleading for an appeal before a panel of angel judges and Carter granted a three day extension for his case; also requiring legal representation. Back on Earth, Carter is revived by both June and the charming and decent Dr. Reeves (Roger Livesey). When Carter explains his preternatural visions, Reeves suspects a serious brain injury. Soon Reeves dies, and Carter selects him as her lawyer at the trial for Peter’s resuscitation. So begins one of the most fascinating procedural films I’ve ever seen, which goes on for over twenty minutes. The Prosecutor is a victim from the American Revolution, believing that Carter and June are in love due to circumstances and that Carter had used borrowed time he owes back. Neither could possibly have a spouse or relationship at home that they’re abandoning, unable to cope with the horrors of war, making the international affair exist on shaky ground. Reeves responds by saying that the time was not at all borrowed, but given, and that it should have no basis on matters of nationality. The American further digs in, calling upon what he calls “Report on England” which I believe is now referred to as the “Famous Five” which was a bipartisan committee opposed to War in England. The American is bitter about how many Americans died fighting Britain, and essentially wants reparations in the form of Carter’s life (or so I surmised after having to watch this scene all over again, having to take careful notes for the first time in my life in order to discover the references). Regardless of the intention, the American utilizes a barrage of metaphors to enforce his point, starting out by holding up a priceless glass from King George III and drops, asking if it breaks because it’s faulty or because it’s glass, somehow connecting this to the fact that our ancestors had a hand in shaping our national identities. The conversation then evolves to Reeve’s asking the American about his heritage, then mentioning a bunch of English artists such as Wordsworth and Shakespeare, then playing American popular music while the prosecutor plays the BBC. Although I have little idea what it means, the American brings up a great quote by Benjamin Franklin, “For the want of a nail the shoe was lost, For the want of a shoe the horse was lost, For the want of a horse the rider was lost, For the want of a rider the battle was lost, For the want of a battle the kingdom was lost, And all for the want of a horseshoe-nail.” I assume it has something to do with June and Carter marrying, or granting Carter an exception, either or both of which could lead to terrible consequences, I’m just not sure how exactly. Reeves responds with another great quote from Washington, “Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience”; though again not sure of the relevance beyond letting Jane and Carter marry, as defined by Washington. Reeves moves on to highlight the fact that the Jury fails to reflect the defendant (comprised of a Frenchman, a Boer War veteran, Crimean War veteran, a Chinese from an 1857 British attack, an Hindu man from subjugated India, and an Irishman). Reeves demands Englishmen, though is forced to settle on Americans, comprised of a French cook, Italian serviceman, a white collar Asian man, black serviceman, and a former Englishman. The former Englishman then stands and demands that Carter and June be heard. The Judge agrees, and Powell pulls the camera out into a wide, revealing not just a courtroom comprised of tens of thousands, but taking place in another galaxy altogether. The jurors, lawyers, and judge all journey down a cosmic staircase, returning to the colorful world and to the operating room where Carter’s under anesthetic. They call June, and the American prosecutors ask June if she is willing to step upon the staircase and take Carter’s place. She does, sacrificing her own life for his, proving her love. The jurors rule in favor of Carter, pushing his date of death back (which we don’t learn) much to the disagreement of the administrators and prosecutor. The pair are then returned to Earth. I’m reading another book from the Oxford History of the United States “Freedom from Fear” (a series I strongly recommend to anyone interested in American History; truly some of the best history books I’ve ever read). The book highlights the period from Hoover and the Great Depression through Roosevelt’s New Deal and WWII. Today I reached the point where Roosevelt is stuck between America and Britain’s isolationists, the latter led by Neville Chamberlain (and mentioned in last year’s Darkest House; he’s the man Churchill replaced). For those who don’t know (as I didn’t) Chamberlain is widely condemned in history books for how much of a coward he was - willing to cede Italy to Mussolini in order to gain neutrality for Britain. Roosevelt offered a conference to most Allied European countries in order to discuss possible sanctions, embargoes, sanctions, and how to deal with future aggression. Chamberlain rejected the offer, wanting England to handle it themselves. The book quotes Churchill who later said, “...no event could have been more likely to stave off, or even prevent, war than the arrival of the United States in the circle of European hates and fears. To Britain it was almost a matter of life and death… We must regardless its rejection… as the loss of the last frail chance to save the world from tyranny otherwise than war.” Thus, although I can’t find anything about the “Famous Five”, the court case and overall story seems to reflect this fractured moment. Most - myself included - assume that Britain and America were allied from the start; a fallacy as shocking as learning about our Isolationism and reluctance to open our borders to the oppressed Jewry*. While I think the court proceedings get a bit muddled as to intention, including far too many undefined metaphors and quotes, it does demonstrate the power of love beyond the romantic. To love a neighbor should be as much other nations and people as close proximity; and it’s through that love that millions of needless deaths could be avoided. Perhaps that’s even the point of the garbled debate, in that, in the end, no amount of grandiloquence will ever take the place of compassion. The film might have worked better if Powell integrated this debate earlier into the narrative; instead we’re introduced to a more or less traditional romantic ghost story, in which the intellectualism doesn’t come in until the closing twenty minutes. It could have worked better if the story explored these ideas sooner, threading the procedural earlier into story, injecting more cerebral throughout and allowing us to catch our breath, rather than dumping them onto for twenty minutes straight. It’s still a fascinating film, standing up with any of Powell’s other work. *One heartbreaking anecdote from the book involves Jews who escaped aboard a ship, getting to Cuba, discovering they were unable to help them get to the states, forcing the Jews to return back to Europe, literally seeing Miami as they sailed back. BELOW: Heck of an intro Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The age old struggle of couples enjoying baseball together Director: George Stevens Writer: Ring Lardner Jr. and Michael Kanin Producer: Joseph L. Mankiewicz Cinematographer: Joseph Ruttenberg by Jon Cvack This was the first of nine films starring Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, of which I think I’ve seen about half, with Desk Set (1957) being the most recent (and making a lot more sense when I think of how great their chemistry was). Tess Harding (Katharine Hepburn) is a successful columnist and concerned about current affairs, feminism, and world politics, living in a lush New York penthouse. Sam Craig (Spencer Tracy) is a sports columnist, who’s use to watching the ball games with a roomful of his white male colleagues, all smoking cigars, chatting up women and sports, and drinking booze, if they care to. When Tess writes up an editorial disparaging baseball, Sam scolds her in the middle of the office, forcing management to have to interject, leading Sam to invite her to a ballgame where she learns about the sport. Recently getting into baseball much to the annoyance of my girlfriend who pretty much despises the game, I had particular affinity for where the story goes. Tess and Sam look past their differences, fall in love and get married in record time, and the two binary personalities are forced to adjust to domestic life. Sam is what some might call an old fashioned type of guy, though it’s getting to the point where the phrase no longer reflects the reality. While Tess had enjoyed her life as an intellectual celebrity, Sam now wants her abandon all that and become the traditional domesticated wife who would clean the house, cook his meals, and raise their child. Tess has zero interest in the prospect, going on to accept her Woman of the Year Prize, opting to adopt a Greek orphan rather than get pregnant, all to Sam's vehement disagreement; taking her to the utter brink of leaving him. For a film that was released in 1942, you can’t help admiring its celebration of feminism, with many of its characters likely inspired by Eleanor Roosevelt or her ideas. It’s no wonder that Criterion would provide the release with a pristine BluRay edition. The film is an important document not just for including radical ideas in mainstream texts (let alone for a film starring two A-list celebrities), but also for demonstrating that the same ideas we're debating today existed 75 years ago. It shows that the fight for equality and a celebration of a woman for their leadership and mind has been going on for decades. It’s a film like this that shows you how much has been accomplished and how effective the fight can be. In the final scene, Tess even shows her humanity by willing to find a compromise between her ambition and family, attempting and failing to cook a breakfast, showing that adjustments aren’t made through superficial domesticity, but by appreciating and loving someone else through other means; such as appreciating the details of a ball game, or an enlightening conversation, or changing the world for the better. BELOW: I'm not a huge Katharine Hepburn, but she's got some solid comedy chops in this one Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of Gable's best roles Director: Sam Wood Writer: William Wister Haines(play), George Froeschel and William R. Laidlaw Cinematographer: Harold Rosson Producer:Sidney Franklin and Gottfried Reinhardt by Jon Cvack Check out Part 1... During the second bombing of Schweinhafen, Martin, Kane, Casey and the press join medal ace pilot Capt. Lucius Jenks (Michael Steele) to award him a Medal of Valor, who like the men in Memphis Belle, hit his 24th mission and was relieved of duty (not 25th, which makes me wonder what the difference was as both seemed to be very accurate portrayals), creating the kind of positive press they were waiting for. However, another pilot, on the verge of his final mission is shot down. While the mission is a success, with more losses than they expected, Casey remains committed to bombing the third city they discussed with Brockhurst, shocking Kane who eventually relieves him of command. As Casey is about to leave, he expresses to Martin how he had always hated the job and how he looks forward to returning back to the states to be near his family. Though just as he’s about to board, he’s informed that Kane has reconsidered the order, now placing Casey in command of the B-29 group in the Pacific, which was an extremely prescient decision from William Haines, as even though it was made in 1943, the Pacific would last two years longer, ensuring Casey an even greater confrontation with death. I typically hate to write such extensive summaries, but I think even someone who saw the film could use an explanation of how all this worked, as this was far more complex than I initially thought. The whole story is comprised of characters who remain on the look out for their own best interests. By avoiding any cuts to action, we avoid the movie attempting to at all celebrate what the men went through. One image, which is coincidentally the most terrifying scene from both Memphis Belle and this film, is a gunmen trying to land a damaged bomber, with both pilots dead, as Casey instructs him on the radio. Successfully landing, then failing to complete the procedure, the bomb filled plane explodes. It makes me wonder if my grandfather and his crew had to drop their bombs, or simply wanted to, having either seen or heard of such things happening. I was left considering the position of the General, and a line from The Thin Red Line, in which John Travolta mentions to Nick Nolte about how once someone becomes a Colonel they’re so hungry for that first star of a General that it becomes a game of politics rather than duty; where some men are willing to sacrifice great numbers of soldiers so long as a mission is accomplished and they look as ripe for promotion as possible. While the idea isn’t as explicitly laid out in Command Decision, it remains omnipresent. Did Casey want his second star and therefore was willing to do whatever it took to get it, or did he genuinely believe that bombing Schweinhafen would save even more lives? At the end of the day, in a time when there was use of data, it was up to General to assess the ratio - would more Americans die bombing Schweinhafen than not going at all? While we discover that all he desired was to be near his wife and kid, I was left wondering if this was just an act of defense. Maybe he really did want to go the Pacific, as if we peel back the logic it would make the most sense. His intention in sacrificing bombers was to save more lives, and while the Pacific might come with a higher emotional cost, his expertise would save those lives. I have trouble believing that such a noble ambition would be satisfied by his family; not because he didn’t want to be near them, but because the mission was greater than any three or four people, including himself. Or maybe it was about ambition, and his simple determination to do whatever it took to get another star, and hopefully another beyond that. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three. I’m sure I’d need to watch it a couple more times to discover all the complexities of these great characters. You could see this movie being made today, using the same script, and offering a timeless tale of ambition, honor, and sacrifice. It’s a great and unexpected story. BELOW: Little beyond the TNT spot, so here's a trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Not the WWII action film you might be expecting Director: Sam Wood Writer: William Wister Haines(play), George Froeschel and William R. Laidlaw Cinematographer: Harold Rosson Producer:Sidney Franklin and Gottfried Reinhardt by Jon Cvack I had grown up watching Memphis Belle (1990), as my grandfather was a B-17 nose gunner in World War II which becomes all the more impressive with each passing year and the ways in which these massive planes/works of art and ingenuity were reserved for more or less a single World War. No matter how many times I asked, my grandfather never told me about any action he saw, convincing us that by getting into the war late his missions were reserved for training runs, in which he’d have to drop his bombs over cow fields before landing. It wasn’t until my grandfather passed and I went home for his funeral that my Marine uncle and Vietnam veteran mentioned during the eulogy how when he and my grandfather were out at my grandparent's Lakehouse in Indiana they’d discuss what they saw in their respective wars. This was saying a lot as my uncle has had two books written about his platoon and the action they saw, personally knowing the author, and even having Life Magazine take photos of the platoon for one of their Vietnam issues. I remember looking at images of men who were covered in bandages, being helped or comforted, and asking my uncle what he thought. With his charming and innocent smile, he said the war was actually kind of fun. Coming from a very good and warm hearted man, this has stuck with me ever since - I’m not sure what to make of it; either that perhaps he had no fear of death at the time and how close he came to it, or he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t get the impression of the latter. To think this was his experience and that these stories could be shared my grandfather left me interested and a little upset that for such an important piece of family history, my non-blood related uncle would know the secrets, and at least at the time, had no intention of sharing them with me. Then again, I never asked my grandfather about the truth as an adult, figuring I already knew it, later realizing that he didn't talk about it because I couldn't possibly understand. I had watched Memphis Belle at least once since college, but not since my grandfather passed and I started thinking about these ideas. It was that perfect kind of return, where the film is everything and more than what you remembered. It follows the story of a B-17 bomber squad on the eve of flying their 25th mission, which provides both a release from battle and statistically unlikely achievement. The figures are staggering, with at times 50% of the bombers never returning. What I remember most from that film is the tension each man had - varying from calmness amongst the captain to outright madness by one of the gunners. When I examined the cover and read the description of Command Decision, I figured it was a bomber film per the likes of Memphis Belle; hoping for one of those cool 1940s War films that had some cool characters with attempts at big action. Instead, I discovered essentially a chamber drama, based off the novel of the same name by William Wister Haines that was then turned into a play. What’s most impressive is this wasn’t even made after, but during the war in 1943. It follows a Brigadier General "Casey" Dennis (Clark Gable) who commands the 32nd Bomb Group who’ve recently suffered a loss of 48 bomber crews and planes - nearly fifty percent of the entire unit - during a botched mission. A pair of United News war correspondents Elmer "Brockie" Brockhurst (Charles Bickford) and James Carwood (John Ridgely) in order to cover the public relations nightmare that continues to grow, especially as General Dennis sees no problem with the losses, figuring that they’re assisting with the war effort and part of the costs of maintaining momentum against their aggressive push against the Nazis. Soon Dennis’ former West Point classmate Major General Kane (Walter Pidgeon) brings along Colonel Ted Martin (John Hodiak), sparking speculation that Kane wants to replace Dennis, especially as a congressional committee is set up to examine the high costs. This all occurs as Casey preps his next attack on the ambitious target of Schweinhafen, where numerous airplane factories reside, though further into Germany than any other mission. Kane advises against it, with Casey defending the high risk mission as preserving their momentum and avoiding catastrophic retaliatory attacks. Casey’s role was an impressive line to cross, as Clark Gable had to drift ever so slightly between an arriviste and honorable man who seems to genuinely believe in sacrificing men for a greater cause. A party is prepared for the men and drinks are poured when another ace pilot returns and explains that they hit the wrong target, and with the press ever-present, Martin and Kane urge Casey to revise the original mission’s intent, varying between lying about the city and the mission's purpose, then discovering they struck a U-Boat factory and thinking they could say it was in coordination with the Navy. Eventually Brockhurst (the newsman) learns of the mistake. To avoid the devastating leak they include Brockhurts in on a secret mission against a third German city. BELOW: TNT use to play movies from 1948? Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Possibly Gary Coopers' best role Director: Fritz Lang Writer:Corey Ford, Alastair MacBain (book), Boris Ingster, John Larkin (story), Ring Lardner Jr., Albert Maltz Cinematographer: Sol Polito Producer: Milton Sperling by Jon Cvack The second to last film I saw from Lang was Spies (1928), which while a bit too long, blew my mind with how many genre conventions the film contained, having been in 1928. While Cloak and Dagger didn’t necessarily advance film language and structure with the same magnitude, it provided a competitive addition to the WWII spy thrillers per the likes of Notorious ('46), The Third Man ('49), and Night Train to Munich ('40), blowing the latter out of the water by offering an engaging and thrilling tale of the nuclear arms race; a topic that given the film’s release in 1946 and being based off the nonfiction book of the same name and published in the same year, was logically underway prior to America dropping its first Atomic bomb on Japan. As with most of Fritz Lang’s movies, the film balances commentary with engagement, serving as a harbinger of where the nuclear arms race could go. The story follows scientist and Professor Alvah Jesper (Gary Cooper) who’s recruited by the OSS to go behind Nazi enemy lines in order to retrieve Dr. Polda (Vladimir Sokoloff) who’s being held by the Nazis in order to expedite the nuclear development. Immediately we get a taste of Jesper’s philosophy toward the weapons, wondering when the world governments will see the value of pouring billions of dollars into research and development toward curing polio rather than creating weapons of mass destruction. Nevertheless, the government’s demands are what they are and in order to prevent the Nazis from getting the weapon first, Jesper needs to head behind enemy lines. The premise is simple enough, and yet Lang is able to miraculously combine Hitchcockian suspense with Orwellian grammar, providing a strikingly modern take. For instance, when Jesper arrives in Switzerland, there’s a photographer that looks to be not so subtly taking pictures of certain individuals. Aware of the play, Jesper holds up his briefcase to block his face. Later we learn that it was this exact move that pinged him, as only someone who didn’t want to be photographed would have anything worth investigating. Jesper quickly gets in contact with Polda, learning that his daughter has also been captured under threat of execution if Polda doesn’t continue the research. Jesper gets into contact with Katerin Lodor (Helen Thimig) who’s part of the resistance and helping to get Jesper behind enemy lines. However, we soon learn that she’s a American double agent and Nazi, which Jesper catches whiff of, cornering Katerin, threatening to turn her over to the OSS unless she tells him precisely where Polda’s daughter is, leading him to narrowly escape to Italy, with Lodor getting killed, where he meets the gorgeous resistance fighter Gina (Lilli Palmer). Robert Zemeckis’ Allied (2016) was the most recent example of the genre, and it’s insanity to think that the film would hang so far below Cloak and Dagger both in craft and substance. While Zemeckis focused far too much on the romance, Fritz Lang, while still having Gina fully made up and attractive, never lets the romance pull focus. When they’re first introduced to each other, we get what is now a classic scene of a the resistance fighters hiding in the back of the truck, stopped at a Nazi checkpoint, given the go ahead, only for the truck to stall and the Nazis begin checking the load. It’s moments like this that you understand how fast such scenes go nowadays, as although there is no grand shootout, Lang take his time building the tension as the Jesper, Gina, and the fighters have the Nazis’ flashlight slowly pan across the back of the truck, with the brilliant detail of never having the light catch their faces (as movies often do, leaving you to wonder how the person using the flashlight doesn’t see them). With Gary Cooper’s offering his classic quiet-cool, every man performance, we also see a more human side as he can’t help his attraction to Gina, making pass after pass, unable to keep his eyes off her. Her morale has been completely destroyed by the war, abandoning the common insolent behavior that’s masking obvious attraction and instead offering a slow burn that culminates in a lengthy scene (what had to be about fifteen minutes) when the two share a hovel while a cat screams outside the door and the pair try their best to contain their feelings and urges. While I’m often left wondering how marriage declarations could be so easily and quickly offered when the onscreen couples only knew each other for a few days (as is so common in pre-1980s cinema), in this case Jesper’s love made perfect sense. He’s aware of humankind's frailty in the nuclear age, never offering overt cynicism (aside from his intro), though sprinkling it into the role. For Jesper, a mix of Gina's beauty and passion to fight, represents all that’s good in the world. The troupe heads behind enemy lines, providing all of the gun fights and furtive assassinations that the best of the genre offers. Lang is able to find tension in the smallest moments, such as when Gina and him head out into the Italian streets, discovering their being followed, with Gina using her nice legs to distract the man, allowing Jesper to come from behind with a gun and lead the tail into a room. In an absolutely brutal fight sequence, the man turns around, grabbing Jesper’s face and digs his nails in, with Lang holding the camera enough to make me squirm, all while the Italian street music continues to play outside. Jesper breaks free, fighting equally dirty and bending the man’s fingers back in another squirmy moment. The gun is dropped and knowing they can’t fire and attract more attention, Jesper fights as quietly as possible, eventually strangling the man to death. It’s easy to watch the scene and think that you’ve seen it all before (down to the man kicking the gun away to prevent Jesper from getting it back), though it’s understanding how few films from the period provided such a devastating fight sequence, often relying on large theatrics and bad choreography to reach the same end. Thus, when the film ends in a shoot out between the resistance fighters and the approaching Nazis, resulting in a - per usual - narrow escape, again it’s not so much that it’s the most original sequence so much as being one of the earliest of these types of sequences that would go on to impact every film from the subgenre from there on out; complete with another brutal conclusion when the Italian resistance fighters use grenades to sacrifice their lives in order to save Jesper and Gina. Perhaps the most popular piece of trivia associated with the film (wikipedia doesn’t even include a synopsis) is that there was another reel remaining in the original cut - in which after the escape Jesper led a group of paratroopers behind German lines to a factory operated with concentration camp labor, with dead bodies everywhere, leading Jesper to declare, “This is the Year One of the Atomic Age and God help us if we think we can keep this secret from the World” and offering a deeply pessimistic conclusion to a relative popcorn action thriller. While I’m not surprised that the scene was cut, once again Lang’s work falls into the stuff of legend. I recall when Metropolis ('27) still contained missing reels until the full cut was discovered in 2008 in Argentina. Hearing that such a gruesome scene was actually filmed and included leaves me hoping that it one day turns up and we see Lang’s original vision. To think that Gary Cooper and his All American persona had a role in its creation makes it all the more incredible. I can only think of a few films that come close to matching Lang’s level of quality - Spellbound ('45), Saboteur ('42), Notorious, The Third Man, and Odd Man Out ('47). And while the latter two remain better pictures, the fact that Cloak and Dagger was made before them makes me wonder how much Carol Reed was influenced by the film. In terms of spy-action-thrillers, this is one of the best from the period. BELOW: One of the most intense murder scenes I can recall from the period Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  About as boring as a field of grass Director: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Writer: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Cinematographer: Erwin Hillier Producer: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger by Jon Cvack I’m not familiar with the original "Canterbury Tales", but this movie was boring enough that I have little motivation to go and see how the two versions could possibly relate. All I know is that book contains a series 24 stories written between 1387 - 1400, possibly unfinished, featuring insights into the customs and practices of the day (so Wikipedia says). With that in mind, I understand the film’s fractured plot - or near completely lack of - a bit more, but I was so bored by what was going on that whatever insights I was supposed to take away were far from worth the two hour + running time. The story focuses on three characters: U.S. Army Sergeant Bob Johnson (played by real-life Sgt. John Sweet, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Edgar Wright’s character from Loving, teeth and all, though just a bit more lanky) who arrives by mistake vai train in Chillingbourne near Canterbury; mishearing the last stop call. He’s joined by British Army Sergeant Peter Gibbs (Dennis Price) and a “Land Girl” (basically agro-focused U.K. Rosie-the-Riveter) Allison Smith (Sheila Sim). They all arrived by mistake and within a few moments, Allison has glue dumped on her which becomes another boring subplot throughout the film as Peter and Bob try to find who dumped the glue on her head, eventually discovering it was the local town judge and intellectual Thomas Colpeper (Eric Portman). As much as I hoped reading the Wikipedia page would help provide some clarity, it’s pretty clear that this is pretty much the entire story - missing a train stop and entering into a glue mystery. We get to wander around the area, exploring the beautiful town and country, as the film was shot on location. Eventually we learn that Colpeper’s motive was that his local soldiers were becoming distracted by all of the working females, and so he figured dumping glue on women’s heads would prevent them from cheating on their husbands and boyfriends who are away at war. So then enters some strange series of events, where Bob finally gets a letter from his girlfriend who figure she had left him; Susan learns that her AWOL boyfriend is alive; and Peter goes and plays an organ in a beautiful church like he said he always wanted to earlier in the film. If you’re thinking, “Wow, that sounds pretty boring,” you’d be absolutely right. Similar to what I wrote about Last Year at Marienbad ('61) and its issue of living up to old foreign Art House film stereotypes, A Canterbury Tales does the same with this desultory drama. It’s not that it’s a poorly made film - in some ways it’s worth checking out for the brief on location shooting at Canterbury alone - so much as there are literally thousands of other films that I would suggest before watching this one, hundreds from the time period alone. To think that Odd Man Out ('47) would arrive only four years later proves that this wasn’t some old fashioned mistake, but just a really boring idea. NOTE: The most interesting part about this movie was learning that John Sweet only appeared in this film, and donated his $20,000 to the NACCP - which was quite the gesture in 1944. I have three films left from Powell - I Know Where I’m Going! ('45), The Edge of the World ('37; which sounds awesome, as it’s about the evacuation of an isolated island community - I assume for WWII), and his the last WWII film of his A Matter of Life and Death ('46), so hopefully A Canterbury Tale was the worst of them. BELOW: Best part if the locations. Here's a doc by The Guardian about it Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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