Change Your Image
glofau
Ratings
Most Recently Rated
Reviews
Six Hits and a Miss (1942)
Fun Musical Recycling
During Hollywood's Golden Age of the Studio System, each studio had its own department that made short subjects for theatrical distribution. These short subject departments did not receive big budgets to make their films. What they DID have was access to their studio's film vault, as well as access to their studio's collections of set pieces, props and costumes. So they could cobble together some pretty classy looking short films out of various odds and ends. This "Six Hits and a Miss" musical short subject is an unusually sophisticated example of this type of low budget recycling.
To save money, somebody decided to recycle the dance sequences from the finale of Ruby Keeler's 1936 musical, Colleen. This finale was really the standout piece from an otherwise run-of-the-mill film. This re-releasing of old musical numbers was also quite common during the pre-TV era, when old movies just sat in cans in a vault, gathering dust. But I guess it wasn't considered legitimate to just re-release these musical numbers as standalone films; these numbers had to be reframed with new content to make them seem fresh for modern audiences. Six Hits and a Miss was a very popular singing group that was really having a "moment" at this time, appearing in many feature films. So clearly, somebody thought it would be a good idea to feature them in this low budget project, possibly director Jean Negulesco himself. The vocal sound of Six Hits and a Miss blended well with the musical arrangements from the recycled dance sequences, which featured a lot of male chorus singing, so the two soundtracks could dovetail together seamlessly. It's really a very clever idea.
So somebody composed these new bridging sequences, brought in Six Hits and a Miss and the Rudolph Friml Jr group to pre-record the new musical tracks, and then filmed the bridging sequences in either an existing set from another film, or something cobbled together from odds and ends. That was one of the advantages of the factory system: a filmmaker had access to so many things that he could borrow for a few days to shoot his own project.
I'm honestly surprised that some reviewers were bored by this film. I thought it was delightful! The Colleen finale was choreographed by the great Bobby Connolly, who choreographed The Wizard of Oz. Granted, in 1936, Connolly was copying Busby Berkeley a lot, so this particular ensemble section is very much a 2nd rate Busby Berkeley knockoff. Still, it's quite watchable and lavish. And this finale was really one of Ruby Keeler's career-best dance numbers, partnered with the sophisticated stylings of Paul Draper, so there's a lot worth seeing. And the slightly edgier sound of Six Hits and a Miss paired with the Rudolph Friml Jr Orchestra make for some really rocking bridging material, in my opinion.
Overall, I thought this was a superior and quite entertaining repackaging of existing material; it's well worth seeing, if you get the chance. Assuming that you like swing music, of course!
Too Far to Go (1979)
Marital Breakup Told in Reverse
In the 1990's, I took a screenwriting class at San Francisco State University from Fielder Cook. One of the movies Fielder screened for us was Too Far to Go, one of his own films that he was quite proud of. Too Far to Go is an unusual film inasmuch as it tells its story in reverse; the movie begins with a couple's unhappy divorce, and works its way slowly backwards in time to their optimistic wedding ceremony many years earlier. What is interesting about this movie is not the divorce itself -- which is literally the opening scene -- but the character story that unfolds as we gradually move backwards in time and learn more about the couple. We also get to see the effect that our foreknowledge of the eventual outcome has on our perception of the events we witness while various mistakes and betrayals evaporate as the characters move backwards in time. It's a fascinating conceit for a film, and one well worth watching at least once.
Fielder Cook said one thing about screenwriting that I will always remember: "There is nothing more boring than a character SAYING that they're going to do something, and then just DOING that something." Fielder taught us that the interest in a story, the thing that grabs the audience's curiosity and invests them in the characters, is when a character SAYS that they're going to do something, but then ends up doing something else instead. WHY are they doing this unintended thing? The reasons WHY they end up doing this unintended thing end up revealing much more about the character and make the story more interesting than just having someone do exactly what they say that they're going to do at the outset. The reason why I mention this is because Too Far to Go was one of the main films that Fielder used to illustrate this approach to screenwriting. The story of this film is the literal embodiment of the concept... after all, most people do not intend to divorce when they get married.
My personal feeling at the time was that Fielder occasionally took his maxim a little too much to heart, and ended up making his films overly complicated as a result. Occasionally, a character needs to do something boringly straightforward to keep a story from snowballing out of control. But the essential principle is spot on. When it comes to the main events of your story, there is nothing more boring than a character saying that they're going to do something, and then just doing it; that's a missed opportunity for character development as well as a missed opportunity to grab the audience's curiosity with your character story. Modern screenplays would be greatly improved if their writers followed Fielder Cook's advice.
My memory is not great, so I recall very little about the details of this film except that I thought Blythe Danner gave one of her best performances in it. I was not a fan of Michael Moriarty at the time, but I thought that he gave a much better performance than usual too. The screenplay certainly gave the actors a lot of good material!
This is not a feel good film; if you want escapism, look elsewhere. But if you want to watch a fascinating character study from a master in the art, this film will teach you a lot. I don't think Fielder was extraordinarily wise about what made people tick (particularly women), but he certainly knew how to tell a story in an interesting way!
Bros (2022)
Uncomfortable Comedy/Drama that Means Well But...
As a mostly gay bisexual guy married to another bisexual man - who lives in a majorly gay town, I hasten to add - I really wanted to love this film. I found the script to be witty and provocative, and I thought that the performances, production and direction were excellent. It was an extremely well-crafted passion project into which Billy Eichner clearly poured his heart.
Nevertheless, within five minutes, I found myself longing for the exit. I wasn't bored; I was exasperated! Yet another major Hollywood movie with unhappy, self-loathing gays in it, who seem to do nothing but talk about being gay, and demonstrating through their words and deeds what a miserable, unfulfilling experience it is to be gay in American society. If I were still a youngster on the cusp of coming out, this movie would have made me want to slip right back into the closet! It's a rom-com so at least the main characters didn't have to die at the end of the movie; how novel! But the universe that these characters inhabit... awkward, uncomfortable and distasteful. It was like a documentary of some of the worst aspects of the gay community rolled into one very misleading impression, shallow and somewhat materialistic. I'm polyamorous so it wasn't the sleeping around that bothered me, it was the WAY that these guys slept around, the way that they treated one another, that upset me... the unenlightened assumptions, the strident attitude of the film, the thinly veiled cruelty everywhere. My husband said, "This was not a comedy." Can't the LGBT community itself move past The Boys in the Band yet? Does every major Hollywood LGBT flick have to rub man's inhumanity to man - particularly the gay man - in our faces? Can't we just go out to the movies and have a fun time seeing ourselves reflected on the screen without having to suffer so much? Sure, this movie has a happy, modern rom-com ending that brings a tear to your eye. But is it worth sitting through two hours of awkwardness, bitterness, and intolerable preachiness to get there? When will LGBT characters be allowed to be normal romantic leads in a film that isn't about the trials and sufferings of being LGBT?
I mean, I wasn't crazy about Crazy Rich Asians either despite being Asian-American myself... it had a similar problem: too much wealthy Ching Ching Ding Dong and not enough universal humanity. But Crazy Rich Asians was a bastion of universality compared to Bros.
Don't get me wrong, Bros had some hilarious material in it that was quite memorable. I especially loved the LGBT museum having to install a Haunted Mansion of Gay Trauma amusement park ride in order to get the funding it needed to open. Honestly, the entire finished LGBT museum in the movie was insanely wrong-headed and thus utterly hilarious! The moronic Hall of Bisexuals with the audio animatronic mannequins was also memorable and funny in its egotistical ineffectualness. But, all in all, I found the dystopian vision of LGBT life in Bros to be ultimately nauseating despite its creators' best intentions to do so much more.
So, while I wholeheartedly support people going to see this film in order to encourage Hollywood brass to fund other, more pleasant movies with LGBT leads, I can't really recommend Bros either. I'm just saddened that the financial failure of Bros will probably keep the studio execs from green lighting other LGBT projects that might be more fun to sit through.
Avengers: Infinity War (2018)
Incomprehensible Unless You're a Fan
A movie should stand on its own two feet as an entertainment experience. You shouldn't have to watch 18 other movies first in order to enjoy a film. Unfortunately, to enjoy Avengers: Infinity War, you really have to have seen all the other MCU films or this film doesn't really make any sense. Hell, they rarely even introduce characters by name, let alone give you any clue as to who these people are. It really takes shalllowness to a whole new level of yawn-inducing ennui.
It's not like I haven't seen any other Marvel superhero movies; I've seen several. When I was a kid, I read the comic books. And I still had no clue who most of the characters in this movie were! And I certainly didn't give two hoots whether they lived or died.
The film is a spectacular, eye-popping kaleidoscope of sumptuous costumes, special effects, and MONEY spent lavishly on just about everything. The salaries for the all-star cast alone must have sucked up a huge portion of the film's budget. But who cares? If you weren't already invested in the characters, you aren't going to become invested in this sea of nameless wisecrackers spewing rather clever (but pointless) dialogue endlessly.
I couldn't make it to the end, I walked out about halfway through. I hear the end is the best part but I couldn't summon enough interest to care. They lost me with the meaningless major death early in the picture. Snore! I don't go to a film to see favorite characters bite the dust! Especially since they'll just have to resurrect people so they can make their various contracted sequels in their own franchises. This film is an expensive waste of time unless you're a rabid fan.
It's all about the story, man! Without a good story and some time spent up front getting you invested in the main characters, a movie is nothing. Black Panther was terrific because it had a terrific script but this film sucked rocks because its script was a shallow, mediocre snooze despite the witty repartee. Don't bother unless you're a big fan of the MCU.
Sardar Mohammad (2017)
Memorably Bad, Excessive
Sardaar Mahommad is an overlong, somewhat slapdash biopic set in late-1960's India, based upon a true story. A young man discovers that his high-caste parents are adoptive, that most of his biological family was massacred during the Partition of India in 1947, and that his biological mother may still be alive and living in Pakistan. The young man then experiences a crisis of identity, leading to a search for his biological mother.
The core of this film is a story worth telling. Unfortunately, the film makers clearly have little understanding of how to tell such a story. The script presents a series of random events which barely connect and feel tedious, that tell very little about the characters, and that rely upon rather cheap theatrics and excessive emotional outpourings to make you care about characters who are otherwise superficial and one-dimensional. The first half of the film plays as a rollicking, rather unfunny comedy; the second half descends into tear-soaked, sentimental effusions which permeate every encounter, regardless of whether the tears make sense or not.
The period clothing and details wrap you in a polyester swirl of colors and patterns which become quite garish under the highly colorful lighting schemes which feature, for no discernible reason, a large number of aqua color filters.
The musical numbers are slow to emerge in this picture, strangely enough, but once they do begin, the dancing and overall stagecraft are questionable; the main actor is clearly not a skilled dancer. I enjoyed the songs in a campy sort of way, but my friend Dee thought they were boring. In my opinion, however, the songs were the best part of the movie.
I think the hardest thing to take was the lethargic pace of the film combined with the overlong, overacted scenes of endless sobbing which dominated the film's narrative. I mean, the crying was so excessive that it made American soap operas seem restrained and naturalistic by comparison. And why were they crying so much? Apparently, they had some sort of foreknowledge (divined from God?) of the end of the script, there could be no other explanation. The sobbing and overacting were so extreme that I actually found it all quite hilarious... when I wasn't falling asleep from boredom.
Most of the Bollywood films that play in the United States are exceptional examples of their genre; Americans don't tend to be subjected to the run-of-the-mill features which must dominate the industry. This piece of period claptrap was clearly an exception. It was memorably bad. I won't spoil the ending for you, but it could have been a parody, it was so ridiculously tasteless, nonsensical and drawn out. I can't recommend this piece of expensive trash because it was mostly deathly dull, but, if you do decide to subject yourself to it, be prepared... and make sure you eat before you go; they talk about food so much in the movie, it makes you hungry.
Happy Go Lovely (1951)
Winning Creampuff Musical Comedy
Happy Go Lovely is an appealing British-American co-production starring David Niven, Vera-Ellen, and Cesar Romero, directed by American Bruce Humberstone.
The story is a light-as-air romantic comedy about a young American dancer, Janet Jones (Vera-Ellen), who is made the star of a 2nd-rate musical show because her producer-boss (Cesar Romero) mistakenly believes that she has become the mistress/fiancée of Scotland's wealthiest man, greeting-card-mogul B.G. Bruno (David Niven), despite the reality that Janet and B.G. have never actually met. The ensuing story allows David Niven to shine in one of his few truly ingratiating romantic leads, ably abetted by the delightful Vera-Ellen.
I love this film. I love Bruce Humberstone comedies. Many of his contemporaries (including movie star Maureen O'Hara) claimed that Humberstone didn't know much about movie making, dubbing him "Lucky Stumblebum" because he kept accidentally making hit movie after hit movie. Humberstone must have had incredible instincts; while none of his films are truly great, none of them are truly terrible, either. And many of them are quite memorable! Humberstone clearly had natural talent.
Humberstone films lack an auteur's vision, originality and inspiration, yes. BUT -- and this is a big BUT -- Humberstone had great instincts for creampuff comedy. His taste level was questionable, but I think that's part of his charm. Humberstone's comedies are always fun to watch, enlivened by musical numbers which mystify* as well as entertain.
* Mystify because... while they are very smoothly integrated into any given show in terms of pacing, Humberstone musical numbers are also shockingly haphazard, the product of random ideas generated by the talent surrounding each production. This gives the numbers an enlivening spark of kitsch and unexpectedness which amuses intellectuals like me. The numbers vary wildly in quality, but that's part of their pleasure. And the music is produced by some very capable professionals who were also responsible for music of many of the greatest British films of this period.
I don't know quite WHY this film is one of my favorite movies of all time. The story is preposterous, but nothing about the film is realistic so that doesn't matter. The film is never boring, but it's not riveting either. Yet, Happy Go Lovely IS a very soothing film to watch... maybe that's why I watch it so much. There is very little tension. Nothing mean or truly unhappy ever happens. The characters have issues and problems, but they're all basically decent human beings. The dark side of life is only hinted at, never exposed. And who doesn't like a good Cinderella story? Especially with David Niven smiling like that, while Vera-Ellen dances up a storm...
After a hard day's work, with all of life's stresses and miseries, there is something so life-affirming and refreshing in taking a dip into a kind, happy bubble-bath of musical romance and loveliness, played by movie stars who simply exude charm. Escapism!
My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 (2016)
Thoughtful, Funny, Feel-Good Sequel
One of the features that I enjoyed about the original My Big Fat Greek Wedding was its low-stress plot line. It was a romantic comedy; you knew how it was going to end anyway. So Nia Vardalos did not bother to write faked-up plot twists to drive her characters apart. The tension, such as it was, was provided by the self-doubts of the main character, her romance with an outsider, and the surmountable obstacles and inevitable adjustments and culture clashes that such a union precipitated. As the main character blossomed from ugly duckling to swan, finding herself along the way, you really grew to care about her successes and to root for her burgeoning love affair with the perfect man, Ian.
The problem with such a Cinderella story is that a wedding marks the end of the road. Events after the wedding are practically irrelevant in the rom com tradition. So how do you write a sequel to a rom com? Many writers have revisited fairy tale romances, after the wedding, to tell bleak tales of doom, gloom, and disillusionment. Into the Woods is a prime example: fairy tale endings segue into misery, betrayal and destruction. Frankly, I find such post-Modern tales of woe to be intellectually lazy and tiresome. The reality of the post-wedding state may be complex but it is not universally unhappy. All weddings do not end in divorce! Nia Vardalos had the happy idea to make her sequel be about how we turn into our own parents as we raise our own children. In my opinion, there is no Hollywood comedy writer better equipped to address this topic than Nia Vardalos! Beneath the comedy shtick and general silliness, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 is a thoughtful meditation on dealing with our inevitable transformations as we mutate from young lovers to parents to burgeoning empty-nesters, while learning to nurture ourselves and our primary relationships in the midst of overpowering family and outside-world demands. Do we take our partners for granted? Can we change at any age, as the world changes, or are we stuck? Can we come to terms with the choices that we've made in life? How do we do this while raising children, dealing with our aging parents, and the inevitable disappointments and bizarre turns that life has in store for us? The miracle is that Nia Vardalos and her team have managed to address these kinds of topics while making a fast-moving, slapstick, effervescent comedy that keeps an audience constantly laughing. I thought the film was a tremendous achievement, heart-warming and entertaining.
Some critics have dissed this film for being full of shtick and ethnic humor, and for having plot twists that "don't go anywhere." Why? Those were the features of the original film. I EXPECTED a film without woe or major crises, a romp. But I got a lot more. The subject matter was refreshingly adult.
Toula, the romantic lead from the original movie, has now become a working Mom, stuck again supporting her family's restaurant business, dealing with her teen daughter's angst and disdain. Toula's fairy tale makeover from the 1st film has disappeared: poor Toula has no time for the hairdresser's, she's trying to be SuperMom... driving her daughter even crazier. Amusingly, Ian is more perfect than ever, now Principal of his daughter's high school. Regardless, his own daughter wants him to pretend that they don't know one another "because the other kids think I'm a narc!" In addition, Toula's family has become so demanding that Toula and Ian's marriage suffers. The story really gets rolling when Toula's father, Gus, while researching his family tree to prove his direct descent from Alexander the Great, discovers that his own marriage was not legal. Can Gus overcome his male chauvinism long enough to woo his own wife into another Big Fat Greek Wedding? Like her father, Toula, too, takes her spouse for granted as she bounces between the demands of Motherhood and Daughterhood; Toula has become her father. Can these couples re-energize their own marriages? Can Toula and Ian's daughter, Paris, find her own love and/or strike out on her own? Or will they all be suffocated by their Big Greek Family? The unusual feature of this film is the parallelism of the generational story lines, parents and children and grandchildren, all struggling with related issues in their different ways, as they come to terms with themselves as individuals and as parts of the larger, all-devouring, eating-and-breeding Blob, the Portakalos family.
Nia Vardalos worked on the script for four years, and it pays off in her final fascinating and funny film. There are a handful of jokes and bits that die a thousand deaths, but the majority of the movie is hilarious and, overall, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 is tremendous fun and a superior sequel.
In a final postscript: the coming-out-as-gay subplot featuring Joey Fatone. Some reviewers have criticized this subplot for going nowhere. As a gay/bisexual man, I must disagree with these reviewers. Joey Fatone's character's gay storyline is the next step in LGBT activism. Finally, a gay character who comes out to his family without major drama! At last! It's inspirational. Has this ever happened in a Hollywood film before? Nia Vardalos and director Kirk Jones must understand the significance, or why bother with the storyline as it stands in the final film? It's very uneventfulness is revolutionary. Sure, it would have been better if there had been more backstory. But I was just grateful to have a gay storyline in a film that was neither the butt of a joke nor a drama-soaked misery. It's about time!
Hiroshima mon amour (1959)
Brilliant but Tiresome
Hiroshima Mon Amour is brilliantly made and brilliantly acted, with a thoughtful, poetic script by the great French writer, Marguerite Duras. Its images are lyrical, disturbing, fascinating, and its anti-war message is profound and still frighteningly relevant. But in terms of strict entertainment...
Any film which begins with abstracted images of the entwined body parts of human lovers, slowly becoming encrusted with ash and (presumably) atomic fallout... and then spends an obscure 15 minutes arguing about the death and disfigurement of multitudes during the atomic bomb blast in Hiroshima, and the nature of memory and forgetfulness... well, you realize immediately that this movie isn't set up to go anyplace fun. Unless your idea of "fun" is witnessing someone else's graphic misery without the cleansing catharsis that accompanies a more conventional tragedy. Hey, some people enjoy that kind of thing! Not me, but to each his/her own.
Despite a structure which is famous for meandering through time, the film's narrative is fairly cogent and non-confusing, which is a plus. But the central illicit, inter-racial affair between a French actress and the Japanese architect whom she hooks up with during a film shoot in Hiroshima... It doesn't really make any sense. From the tiny acorn of a chance hookup, grows a mad-passionate love affair based almost entirely on memories dredged from the actress' past, which she disgorges to the architect, rather like a colorless Scheherezade, as she loses all rational connection to the present, conflating a youthful indiscretion with a deceased German soldier (and her subsequent descent into madness) with the non-happenings surrounding her current Japanese amour. German, Japanese... clearly, she can't tell these Axis races apart! I understand that the point of the film was not to create strict narrative coherence, but rather to delve into some kind of symbolic and psychic clash between this cold-yet-overwrought union of a French woman and her obsessed Japanese lover, and the horrors of War. But, despite some moments which are outright absurdist in effect, the overall tone of the film is grinding in its humorlessness. As I watched the characters fatalistically surrendering to their doom, all I could think was, "man, that Marguerite Duras must have been a drag to be romantically involved with." I mean, the Duras script, for all it's poetic symbolism and intellectual brilliance, etc etc, tells a story of people who are criminally passive and hopelessly clingy. Love seems to transform her characters into mere victims, of love, of war, of life, masochistically reveling in their own operatic suffering while doing virtually nothing. As the nameless SHE recalls her own suffering during her madness, scraping her fingertips off on the saltpeter-encrusted walls of her parent's cellar-prison, then receiving validation of existence by luxuriously sucking her own blood from her ravaged hands because otherwise she is utterly alone, all I could think was... Oh brother! This character is so badly damaged, how did she ever manage to get happily married before she embarked on this chance affair in Japan? The imagery is fabulous and intense, but are these really human beings that could have plausibly embarked on a journey together? One human being, actually, because the Japanese architect is little more than a handsome cipher of "love"... love, in this story, apparently meaning the obsession that arises from the act of physical copulation, an experience which is equated with destruction of the nuclear holocaust variety. So, Marguerite Duras clearly had issues surrounding her expression and experience of sexuality. And the film betrays little in the way of empathy, either, the characters are infused with an undercurrent of intense selfishness as they struggle to connect. HE is constantly delving into HER unhappy past even though it can give neither of them any pleasure or joy. The more HE delves, the more SHE becomes hopelessly entangled, and the more obsessed HE becomes... until the cold and bitter end.
At least in an opera, you get to revel in an outpouring of passion! In this bitter pill, everything is so cold and humorless... well, it really is difficult to understand why people wax enthusiastic over this film so much. There is much here to ADMIRE... but not much to love, in my opinion. Except intellectually, because the film is awash with symbolism and thought-provoking moments. As a viewing experience for the average intellectual, such as myself, however, I felt that once was enough. The time jumping and abstractions and other critically lauded elements of this movie have been done better and more entertainingly by others. Though this is the most emotionally powerful anti-nuclear statement I've ever seen, for which, as someone who had much of his family die in the Hiroshima nuclear blast, I am profoundly grateful.
Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens (2015)
Amusing Enough but Not Great
When the original Star Wars came out in 1977, I was one of those kids that saw the film 11 times during its initial run. As an adult, I've watched the film many times, and it still holds up beautifully. I was not surprised when Star Wars made the AFI Top 100 Films list.
I have not been so wild about the sequels. But George Lucas was at least trying to say something thoughtful, however questionably he might have expressed himself.
Don't expect that kind of care in the new film. Most critics may be raving and cheering, but no one is saying that The Force Awakens has any depth. You may be grateful for that, I don't know. I think the lack of thoughtfulness gave rise to some questionable decisions, myself.
When I heard that J.J. Abrams was directing the long-awaited Part VII, my heart sank. Based on my limited exposure to his screenplays, I think Abrams may be an introverted misanthrope, he's so negative about human nature in general. His characters are mostly shallow, venal jerks or losers who stumble into heroism; not inspiring. And he isn't deep-thinking about what makes people tick.
However, Abrams has excellent instincts when it comes to the pacing of action pictures. And he has a sense of humor which keeps his material from becoming hopelessly depressing.
When I sat down in the theater during this opening weekend for The Force Awakens, I was pleasantly surprised by how entertaining I found the picture. Although I found the resurgence of the Dark Side and the diminution of the old Rebellion forces incomprehensible, the opening screen images were striking and Abrams' David-Lynch-like plot teases captured my interest... at first. By about the 75 minute mark, however, my butt was twitching in my seat and I was checking my watch.
The script missed the mark in terms of character development. Daisy Ridley as Rey and John Boyega as Finn are sympathetic and engaging, but the script gave them little room to shine. Their characters were flat and one-dimensional. Ridley and Boyega have such charm that you liked them anyway, but what a waste of talent! And the new villain, Kylo Ren, was dull as dishwater, an overgrown child with anger-management issues that made him seem petty rather than nuanced.
The film relied heavily on established characters to provide the juice that the new characters lacked. The best was Harrison Ford and Peter Mayhew revisiting Han Solo and Chewbacca. A few wisecracks and I was cheering like a fool! I suspect these parts were the work of original-scribe Lawrence Kasdan because they felt just like old times and were the most enjoyable parts of the movie.
BB-8 was also charming, probably because the filmmakers had to think carefully for a change. The Yoda-like Maz Kenata was neutral but appealing. Andy Serkis made his Supreme Evilness suitably menacing... but that guy can read a phone book and give it personality; the character itself was a block of wood. Abrams seemed more interested in plot twists, teases, and other irrelevancies than the characters. By the time I got to the end of this film, I had had enough.
The original Star Wars pitted Home, Hearth and Family against the destructive Lust for Power. Good and Evil have to mean something personal or they're just words; that was part of what made the original film so engaging.
What was The Force Awakens about? Who knows?
Good and Evil in The Force Awakens both felt a little too much like Fascism to me, as forces gathered to wage war without much self-awareness. Both sides behaved badly; one side was just worse. Is this modern, fighting for the lesser of two evils? It was like watching an indoctrination film for a cult.
The most interesting twist was Finn the Renegade Stormtrooper, a faceless minion who gains a conscience as concerns the killing of others... but does he? Finn takes to killing his former compatriots quickly enough that his compassion is highly suspect. Apparently, if an enemy takes off their mask, they become a human being; if they wear their mask, their deaths are something to be cheered. It was all rather revolting and ill-considered. Either that, or nauseatingly cynical.
Don't worry about being "bored" by a love story, there isn't one. Rey and Finn are war buddies, not potential lovers. There isn't an ounce of sex or romance in this film, just plenty of violence. Whatever happened to "Make Love, Not War?" I think Abrams conceived all the new characters as men, then cast a few women in some of the parts... except for Princess Leia, who has gone from sassy feminist in the original trilogy to inexplicably colorless Earth Mother. This was clearly not Carrie Fischer's fault; when given the opportunity, she was as sparkling as ever. She just got stuck being the embodiment of Womanly Virtue and Mother Love in Abrams' dumb script because otherwise The Resistance was largely devoid of positive characteristics.
The new space ship designs were great, as were the creature designs; with these, came good makeup artists. The costumes and hair were not so inspired. Poor Carrie Fischer suffered the worst, costumed in unflattering outfits and wigs. Princess Leia is a science-fiction fashion icon! Why didn't they hire Bob Mackie or someone of that caliber? They had the money! Adam Driver as Kylo Ren also suffered, looking more like the long-nosed spy from the 1977 original than the next Darth Vader. The new costume designs were a disappointment in an otherwise solid production design.
So, the film is watchable, but don't expect greatness.
The Lady Takes a Sailor (1949)
Classy-Looking Bore
The concept for this romantic comedy is kind of interesting: consumer-protection-expert Jane Wyman gets picked up by submariner Dennis Morgan on a secret mission and finds herself discredited by government misinformation. Wyman and Morgan are charming, ably supported by Allyn Joslyn, Robert Douglas and Eve Arden as comic foils. William Frawley has an amusing bit as the representative of the Liar's Club. Michael Curtiz' direction is efficient, the Max Steiner score is effective and excellent, the production is beautiful and beautifully photographed. Jane Wyman, in particular, is made to look especially glamorous and gorgeous; Eve Arden also looks exceptionally beautiful. These positive elements, however, are torpedoed by a tedious, unfunny script. Maybe the movie could have been better if the secret-mission concept had been more thoughtfully worked out or if the core of the picture had been slightly more "true" to better propel the farce; as it is, the various story elements feel arbitrary and disconnected. For instance, Jane Wyman plays a consumer protection expert, but her expertise has nothing whatsoever to do with the story; the story centers on her fight to regain her ruined reputation. The story is clearly intended to be farcical; why not have Wyman use clever inventions from her business (amusingly presented in the first scene) to fight Dennis Morgan instead of the boring, imagination-free ruses she employs? Morgan, meanwhile, comes off as a womanizing liar for much of the film; is he a hero, or just a jerk? It's difficult to decide. Comedy characters are often idiots, by design, but you need to feel sympathy for them as well; these characters were just off-putting. Between the script problems, and the poorly-motivated slapstick comedy, this movie falls flat. As a rule, I adore fluffy comedies, but this one made me squirm in my seat, thankful at my release once it had ground its way to a conclusion. If you're a fan of any of the principal players or makers, as I am, the film is worth seeing because it has some bright performances (particularly by Eve Arden), clever scoring, and attractive photography. If you're into fashions of the postwar era, this film has some wonderful clothes and hair. For most people, I would say, do yourself a favor and skip this misfire of a film. It's not good enough to be worth your time, nor is it bad enough to be fun. It's just beautiful and kind of annoying, a change-of-pace experiment for Michael Curtiz that doesn't really work. For Completists only.
The Conquering Power (1921)
Effective, Somewhat Surreal, Melodrama
This 1921 Rex Ingram/June Mathis adaptation of Balzac's 1833 novel "Eugenie Grandet" makes for surprisingly entertaining viewing, although the film's plot bears only a superficial resemblance to the source material, recasting it as a more conventional melodrama. The lovers (portrayed by Rudolph Valentino and Alice Terry) are extremely noble, the villain (portrayed by Ralph Lewis) is an irredeemable miser, and there can be no question about how this film will end... but getting there is tremendous fun! Despite being the product of the Hollywood studio system, this film is reminiscent of German Expressionist works such as Fritz Lang's Metropolis and Joseph von Sternberg's The Blue Angel, particularly as it builds to its nightmarish climax. It also reminds me of Alice Guy's earlier Victorian morality films, although here the moralizing seems to be more for show than springing from genuine conviction on the part of the filmmaker.
Unlike some reviewers, I am not overly familiar with Rex Ingram's directorial output, but he clearly knows what he's doing. The pacing of the film is really great and the performances he gets from his actors are relatively restrained and moving... and then the film goes completely over-the-top, which makes for effective contrast!
If you haven't seen this picture, I won't spoil the climax for you, but I thought it was a lot of fun (in a ghoulish kind of way) and pleasingly surreal! Let's just say that I really enjoyed how crazy things became once our villain, morally adrift due to outbursts of increasingly reprehensible behavior, buried his face in a cradle full of gold and began to trickle the coins gleefully over his head... things just slide out of control from there to a really satisfying finish!
The film is beautifully and stylishly photographed, despite a somewhat peculiar dissonance between nominal "modern" sections inserted around large portions of film that were clearly intended as a period costume movie. The somewhat testy opening titles which claim that the "Great Public" does not like costume dramas imply some sort of studio interference which the filmmaker resented. Unlike 1927's film masterpiece "The Wind" however, this film does not give the impression of a happy ending hastily tacked on by nervous studio executives, just a questionable attempt to make a costume melodrama appear to be a contemporary drama.
The Conquering Power makes a pleasant change of pace from the grinding, so-called "reality" of current Hollywood dramas, which seem to be more interested in making YOU feel disillusioned and horrible than entertaining you... as if we were ALL blind to Man's Inhumanity to Man and needed to be kicked in the face! This melodrama has its share of disillusionment and violence but it's not trying to make YOU feel disillusioned or overwhelmed or disaffected; quite the reverse. There is much to enjoy in the people and passions that populate its canvas, filled with emotions which, despite being a little corny, ring true and make you "buy" its melodramatic denouement and "love will prevail" message. I enjoyed this tale of greed and perversion more than many similar films because you don't have to take it too seriously yet it conveys something that touches you.
Weary River (1929)
A Real Achievement in Sound Recording
The plot of Weary River is a peculiar amalgam of gangster movie, love story and musical centering around a sensitive hood played by Richard Barthelmess who, after being sent to jail for a crime he didn't commit, discovers his true passion for music and becomes a radio star (based on a true story, believe it or not!). As an entertainment, I give this film 7 out of 10 stars. It's dated but well-paced and amusing without being particularly outstanding.
This review is about Weary River's soundtrack, which is an astonishing achievement for its time but overlooked by film music historians... possibly because the recordings were only rediscovered and restored to the film in 1997.
Film music historians often talk about Max Steiner's 1933 score for King Kong and Franz Waxman's 1934 score for The Bride of Frankenstein as if Steiner and Waxman magically invented synchronized music for film out of thin air... which is preposterous. Due to the success of The Jazz Singer, early talkies were mostly musicals. But it's one thing to have people burst into song in the middle of a scene as if they were on the stage, as in Ernst Lubitsch's superior 1929 film "The Love Parade"... it's something else entirely when the music has to synchronize with action and dialogue over the course of multiple shots and scenes, as in Weary River.
You see, in early talkies, all the sound had to be recorded live simultaneously. If you were going to have music under dialogue, or sound effects, or dialogue looping, it all had to be recorded at the same time. They didn't have multi-track recording in 1929.
Weary River has musical underscoring in virtually every shot of the picture. If you wanted underscoring in 1929, you had to have the orchestra and conductor on the set with the actors. But Weary River has music that flows from silent sequences into talking sequences. To allow that to happen, the composer had to write music for the entire film after they had shot the silent sequences and edited them together but BEFORE they had shot the sound sequences. The composer/conductor (Louis Silvers, who certainly deserved the big screen credit he got for his work) would then have to record all the music for the edited silent sequences. Where the silent and sound sequences were to join together, the conductor would have to record the music to a metronome beat; this would allow the yet-to-be-recorded sound sequence to join seamlessly with the silent sequence musically.
At some point in this process, the composer and director would have to collaborate in order to pre-plan the shot list for the sound sequences... because Weary River has a very sophisticated editing scheme for the visuals. There are a lot of different kinds of shot sequences leading into spoken dialogue. You don't just go from a silent sequence with musical score into a static shot with dialogue on a soundstage. There are many cuts, pieces of business, scene changes, sound effects or synchronized spoken words, all of which had to flow seamlessly into a spoken dialogue exchange in the film with unbroken music playing under it. That means a lot of planning, charts, diagrams. There is nothing spontaneous about the synchronized sound and music of Weary River. It's a choreographed dance of visuals and effects and music and dialogue, all recorded live on a soundstage with actors on a set waiting for their cue. Did they have the conductor in a soundproofed booth with glass windows containing a metronome so that the click didn't get onto the sound track? Did they run edited film behind the orchestra with punches flashing the tempo while the actors waited on the nearby set for their cue to speak? There was clearly one sequence I saw where an actress had to sit with the orchestra and deliver her line in time to her own actions on a film playback which then flowed into a sequence shot live on a set with other actors. This is not a typical early talkie. The fluidity of the shots, and the way the music synchronizes with them and works with the dialogue to create an integrated whole, all recorded in one pass... mind boggling. Things flow together so seamlessly that you don't even realize what you're looking at.
Compare Weary River with a 1929 film like The Vagabond Lover; its shots and music integration are simplistic, static, nothing more than 2 or 3 cameras pointing at a band playing and singing. 1929's The Broadway Melody is exactly the same, primitive camera positions and static shots and nothing very complicated.
Weary River, on the other hand, is a much more sophisticated production... to achieve that fluidity, that seamless integration of music and sound and imagery, required some really extreme measures on the part of the production team given their technical limitations. I'm surprised it's not more highly regarded. In terms of technical achievement, Weary River rates 10 stars.
Unfortunately, the music is not as memorable as King Kong or Bride of Frankenstein. But Weary River makes sound film look like silent film WITH a synchronized musical score and dialogue, which is an amazing feat. Director Frank Lloyd won the Oscar for best director that year, and he deserved it. In 1929, the team at Warner's was the best in the business when in came to sound films, and Weary River is a technical tour de force. You won't see anything more fluid with background music until 1932's groundbreaking Love Me Tonight.
John Carter (2012)
So Bad It's Destined to Become a Cult Classic
I adore the cheesetastic, pulp-y goodness of Edgar Rice Burroughs' classic "A Princess of Mars." Sexist, violent, absurd, imaginative, and oodles of stupid fun, the story is basically about a testosterone-dripping he-man who gets magically transported to Mars, where he discovers that he has super-strength and super-jumping powers which allow him to wreak havok as the ultimate killing machine while saving underdogs and damsels in distress in a world of rainbow-colored aliens with the most improbable names imaginable.
At last, digital special effects have reached a point where armies of four-armed green aliens and fantastical beasts can be realized on the screen... and they are in this deliciously bad screen adaptation from one of Pixar's most acclaimed screenwriters, Andrew Stanton.
Everything about this film oozes prestige and money... and the poor taste and corporate interference which exemplify the worst of contemporary Hollywood filmmaking as studios push to create the next money-making super-franchise. Think Indiana Jones mixed with Eat Drink Man Woman and Elizabeth Taylor's Cleopatra, with a little Disney's Beauty and the Beast and Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry thrown in for good measure, and you can appreciate the schizophrenic nature of the final product.
From the opening, incomprehensible prologue, to the pointless psychological underpinnings of the characters and meaningless, poorly executed character development, the family-friendly Disney cute characters juxtaposed with homicidal maniacs and the gorgeous Frank Frazetta 70's fantasy sexploitation design work... all decorating an almost slavishly faithful realization of the original Burroughs' source material which still manages to jettison almost the entirety of the core original plot, replacing it with something even more ill-considered and absurd featuring immortal aliens and "The Ninth Ray"... with an epic scope of pageantry and beauty and gorgeous eye-candy of pulptastic wonderfulness... I was gobsmacked.
I literally started giggling uncontrollably at the start of the film, hooting with derisive laughter, gasping for breath... I laughed for the entirety of the first 45 minutes without stop, then burst into laughing fits again and again for at least 90 minutes of the film's run time. Taylor Kitsch's John Carter could hardly open his mouth without sending me into gales of laughter. This film is terribly written, formulaic, stupid, overly serious, ill-considered, embarrassing... and yet beautiful, lavish, stunningly animated, gorgeously designed, filled with authentic pulp-fiction fabulousness and excellent pacing and incredible effects and cinematography and costumes (the costume designer should win an Oscar for making those ridiculous Frazetta-inspired outfits seem so chic and elegant)... There is so much to enjoy! But be prepared for one of the lamest character stories ever written, in a film laden with bad decisions and a guiding spirit so driven to create greatness that he ends up making a film which is hopelessly ridiculous.
I loved this picture... in the spirit of "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman" and the old Flash Gordon serials. It is destined to become one of the all time great cult films, because it fails on such an epic scale. It is so entertaining, so delightful, so artistic and sumptuous... and then you're rolling around on the floor, gasping for breath, because something else has happened which is completely inane, pompous, formulaic, dreadful. Almost everything on Earth at the beginning of the film is hopelessly terrible, and once you arrive on Mars... The mistake was trying to make everything seem real, authentic, truthful, with everyone so deadly serious all the time; by avoiding camp so ardently in the midst of this pulp fiction universe, they've created one of the campiest films of all time! Hilarious! Dreadful! Intoxicating! John Waters would be proud.
Chandu the Magician (1932)
Surprisingly Fun and Stylishly Designed
Leave your brain at the door, because Chandu the Magician (utilizing his Powers from the Mysterious East) is about to enchant you into believing that trash is pure gold!
This pre-code potboiler from Fox Films introduces Edmund Lowe as Chandu the Magician, an American who has learned almost supernatural powers from the Yogi of the East. He can control men's minds, he possesses powerful protective powers of divination, he can walk on fire or astrally project or perform any number of other miraculous feats.
For reasons that defy logic, Chandu's brother(?) Robert, a Scientist, has been working on developing a Death Ray which can take out an entire city. Just as Robert has finally perfected this project, the evil Roxor (the fabulous Bela Lugosi as "That Monster in Human Form") and his Arabic henchmen kidnap Robert in an attempt to wrest the Secret of the Death Ray from its creator.
In the meantime, Chandu has fallen in with the beautiful Egyptian Princess Nadji, with whom he has been in love for 3 years... Princess Nadji is also in love with Chandu, but has been sacrificing herself Most Nobly for her People. Will these unusual interracial lovers find happiness at last? (Since miscegenation was illegal in many parts of the U.S. during this period in history, this is actually a genuine question!)
Of course, Princess Nadji falls into the clutches of the evil Roxor, and a great deal of deranged soliloquizing follows in the villain's Super-Scientific Laboratory (filled with the requisite Bride of Frankenstein-like crackling electrical apparatus). Will Robert have the strength to keep his Secret of the Death Ray before Roxor has tortured or destroyed all of his loved ones? Will Chandu be able to find Roxor's secret lair in time to Save the World and rescue Robert and the Princess?
In the directorial hands of Marcel Varnel and the brilliant William Cameron Menzies, this unpromising material becomes a stylish-looking, stunningly photographed and beautifully paced bonbon of pulp-y goodness.
If you are in the mood for a campy, beautifully designed, fast-moving melodramatic kiddie-matinée "thriller", I highly recommend this movie. Yummy, stupid, enchanting... and surprisingly progressive about miscegenation for a 1930's film that otherwise wallows in racial stereotypes!
The Old Chisholm Trail (1942)
Good Songs, So-So Film
The corn is higher than "a elephant's eye" in this obscure Western trifle. Tex Ritter and Jimmy Wakely provide dandy singing of some excellent songs, elevating what is otherwise a superficial (and sometimes downright tedious) story about the battle for water rights along the old Chisholm Trail.
Johnny Mack Brown and his gang of cowboys are trying to get their thirsty cattle to market, but the only water left on the old Chisholm Trail is controlled by a flashing-eyed, raven-haired beauty played by Mady Correll who demands an extortionate fee from the cowboys in order to cross her land to water their cattle. When the cowboys, hopelessly broke and righteously indignant at this transgression of the Code of the Old West, refuse to pay, this feisty vixen spends the rest of the film double-crossing everyone, rustling cattle, sending her bully boys into several ridiculously harmless gunfights with the good guys, and otherwise making herself utterly repulsive to all right-thinking He-Men... when she isn't vainly tempting Our Hero with her Fatal Beauty, that is.
Unfortunately, I'm making this sound like much more fun than it actually is. The film treads the boundaries of campy parody without actually crossing that line... but it comes mighty close.
One of the highlights of the film is a cat-fight between our villain and the blonde-haired proprietress of the local saloon (played by the lovely Jennifer Holt), which is tremendous fun and over far too quickly. One of this movie's charms is that it doesn't take itself too seriously, which makes it acceptable to watch... although I found the comic relief provided by Fuzzy Knight as a cowboy-turned-sideshow-magician and Earle Hodgins as an outraged cigar-store-like Indian who wants his money back to be tiresome.
The film is at its best when the cowboys are singing their excellent songs and the plot disappears, but, to give the film its due, the script mostly makes logical sense (however far-fetched the motivations might be) even if you don't really care about anything that happens. The only cliché missing from this film is Jennifer Holt being the saloon girl with the heart of gold... she's too pure for that. Otherwise, this is pretty formulaic drivel with the exception of Mady Correll as the villain rather than some black-hat-wearing hombre.
If you happen to catch this film, there are several moments of campy goodness to amuse you. The songs are good (especially The Old Chisholm Trail, the opening number of the film). But don't go out of your way.
The Family Secret (1924)
Interesting Curiosity with Fun Moments
The Family Secret is an early film adaptation of a popular 19th century melodrama. The plot concerns the daughter of a wealthy man who has secretly married a man below her station of whom her father violently disapproves. The father, in an excess of parental concern, separates the lovers by sending his daughter away so that she might forget her inamorata, unaware of their married state; during this time, she gives birth to a daughter. After some months, the young mother returns to her family manor and presents her father with his new granddaughter, which causes a most unfortunate scene. Unbeknownst to the young woman, her enraged father falsely accuses his son-in-law of theft and has him incarcerated in order to separate the lovers in an irrational attempt to force his daughter to forget this "unworthy" young man.
Three and a half years pass, the imprisoned son-in-law is released, the no-less-imprisoned mother is languishing for her husband (long believed dead), and Baby Peggy bursts upon the scene as the charming young daughter (suffering under the neglect of her governess and the abuse of her mother's nurse), ready to tackle her family-in-crisis with her youthful exuberance and charm... if only she can escape from the nursery! The remainder of the movie is a very peculiar mix of slapstick comedy and melodramatic, sentimental weepiness which the 5-year-old Baby Peggy handles with surprisingly mature professionalism and charm. It's easy to see why this little girl was such a big star.
Edward Earle as the wronged son-in-law is very sympathetic and underplays his scenes in a relatively modern manner which plays well today. Gladys Hulette as the languishing young mother is surprisingly sympathetic for someone who spends most of the picture fainting or throwing her hands to her forehead in antiquated gestures of despair. Frank Currier is effective as the tyrannical father who eventually comes to see the error of his ways in the flash of enlightenment which adorable young children seem inevitably to bring to hopeless old codgers in these sorts of affairs. I enjoyed most the character actresses like Lucy Beaumont as the stuffy Aunt (with her tea parties for her legions of antiquated old fidgets) and the actress who played Baby Peggy's prune-faced governess with her heart melting only for the revolting utterances of the characters in her nauseating romantic penny-dreadfuls. The film was full of little bits of delightful character comedy which I found enchanting.
This film stands in a silent-movie crossroads of sorts. On one hand, we have melodramatic, overplayed scenes of Victorian sentimentality with a somewhat unconvincing storyline; on the other, we have charming pieces of physical and character comedy which are a lot of fun and feel more contemporary with the making of the film, even timeless. William Seiter, who later directed some very enjoyable films (like Roberta, You Were Never Lovelier, and the Marx Brothers' Room Service), seems lost here, trying to reconcile these oddly dissimilar styles into a unified whole. The film doesn't quite gel, but it has many entertaining moments which hold up well.
I had the privilege of seeing a clean vintage print of this film today in Niles, CA on the big screen, introduced by Baby Peggy herself (Diana Serra Cary, a very spry nonagenarian), with an excellent accompanist on piano. It was a great experience, not only because we got to hear Mrs. Cary speak about making her movies, but because I was able to devote my full attention to the film and I could see and appreciate all the details. But be prepared: although it has much wonderful comedy, entertaining performances and a lot of fun camp value (a la Attack of the 50 foot Woman), the film as a whole is supposed to be a drama and as such is not very convincing, although reasonably well paced. This is a curiosity, not a great film... but well worth watching if you're looking for a glimpse into this last gasp of the Edwardian era.
(I know, the Edwardian Era ended in 1910... but this film, despite being set in and made in 1923, FEELS Edwardian to the core.)
Thor (2011)
Mindless, Family-Friendly Action Picture
When I was a child in the 70's, I was a real comic book nut. If this movie had been put on the big screen in 1976, I would have been beside myself with joy. For my middle-aged self today, however, I must say that Thor left me feeling somewhat indifferent.
I liked the fact that Thor is an old-fashioned family film. There's a lot of violence but it's cartoon violence, not realistic, so it doesn't nauseate you like most action movies do today. Thor is also not salacious, which is refreshing; there is only one kiss and no lovemaking. The only person who shows any skin at all is Chris Hemsworth as Thor, and if I had worked as hard as he has to develop his musculature I would demand to show it off, too!
The film is lavishly produced. The costumes were fitted beautifully and the armor and capes were blocked as perfectly as a Philip Treacy hat... and were equally as outlandish! The sets, lighting, effects... all beautiful, even surreal. When I'm relaxing with a flagon of mead, staring into the gigantic firepit in my cathedral-like living room, there's nothing I like better than to wear full dress armor and a cape! And the Asgard skyline with the inexplicably floating geometric buildings made a fitting homage to classic Thor artist Jack Kirby. I did feel a little sorry for poor Natalie Portman as Jane Foster; the nicest outfit she got to wear was t-shirt and jeans! But everything was lovely to look at... if somewhat lacking in inspired artistry.
The main problem with this movie is the character story, which is weak. How and why do Thor and Jane Foster fall for one another? God only knows! Jane must only be thinking with her crotch because Thor is stunning; nothing else seems to happen between the two of them. I mean, this picture makes Legally Blonde seem deep. And Loki as the quasi-villain... I won't spoil the ending by going into his motivations but the writing and Tom Hiddleston's performance are not very convincing.
Nor does the plot make very much sense. I mean, everything mostly works but the story seems very formulaic... such and such happens on page 27, the climax on page 82, etc. Does the climax of the picture really make any sense? So much that happens in Thor seems pointless and anti-climactic, however grippingly it is presented... the script feels less than heartfelt.
Kenneth Branagh's direction and Paul Rubell's editing make this picture flow along with great pacing, and are really a triumph of movie magic over substance. Patrick Doyle's score is gripping and effective without leaving one with any memorable themes. Anthony Hopkins as Odin really submerges himself in the character to great effect, and Chris Hemsworth is a terrific Thor, full of bravado and bonhomie and hail-fellow-and-well-met swashbuckle-yness. Natalie Portman does a great job with a largely thankless role as the love interest. And the rainbow coalition of racially integrated actors forming the supporting Nordic gods do a fine job... although what they're doing in this Scandinavian realm is beyond me. The special effects are great, beautifully done. It's a very nicely made film and a fun ride, if a little boring in places and lacking in inspiration overall... but check your brain at the door, because there is nothing under the hood. And watch for Chris Hemsworth's beautiful upper body exposed about halfway through, because that's all the skin you're going to see in the entire picture!
Say One for Me (1959)
Tuneful but Nauseating
Say One For Me features a great cast including Bing Crosby, Debbie Reynolds, Ray Walston, Frank McHugh, and Connie Gilchrist. The tunes are engaging, especially the title number and The Spirit of Christmas. Debbie Reynolds sings and dances with engaging verve and Bing Crosby croons with all his customary flair and charm.
Unfortunately, this misbegotten cross between White Christmas and Going My Way suffers from a leaden, self-righteous script which not even its talented director, Frank Tashlin, can rescue. Great comic character actor supports like Walston, McHugh, and Gilchrist are utterly wasted in this nauseating, pointless story of a hip priest in New York's theater district who puts on a show. In fact, there aren't many laughs in this pious piece of sentimental claptrap, which seems incredible given Tashlin's involvement (he was an alumnus of Looney Tunes).
Debbie Reynolds' love interest is portrayed by Robert Wagner, cast against type (in a role originally intended for Frank Sinatra) as an undiscovered musical talent with underworld leanings running a low class dive who first tries to seduce Reynolds' virginal good girl, then engages in a badly written relationship with her which forms the core of this tedious story. Although Wagner can carry a tune reasonably well, he is hopelessly outclassed by Crosby and Reynolds; in addition, Wagner's dancing is unfortunate but happily kept to a minimum (including an inexplicable solo turn performed with athletic mediocrity), leaving Reynolds to carry most of the production numbers by herself. Wagner's acting performance is acceptable if distasteful... but that's the script's fault.
At one time, this film was considered to be one of the 50 worst movies ever made, but recent abominations of much greater magnitude have ousted it from the Hall of Shame. I personally feel that the film is worth a viewing simply for the pleasant songs and musical performances, but you've been warned. The storyline itself is contrived, confused and stomach-turning. In an amusing side note, the opening credits have the same appearance as those in The Sound of Music, over a similar religious opening... One could only wish that this film were half as entertaining!
Starlit Days at the Lido (1935)
Delightful Early 3-strip Technicolor Musical Short
When I am feeling blue, I often play my copy of Starlit Days at the Lido (included as an extra on the Astaire/Rogers "Roberta" DVD) to cheer myself up. The film (one of the best of these early Lewis Lewyn musical shorts) is filled with a sense of insouciant fun and frolic from a bygone era, an ebullient combination of "hot jazz," 1930's Hollywood star-gazing by the Lido's pool, and entertaining novelty acts firmly grounded in a pop-culture sensibility drawn from vaudeville and early radio.
What could be more delicious than a woman pulling lit cigarettes out of a bewildered Ukulele Ike, a man dancing with a life-sized female puppet attached to his hands and feet, and chorus girls in brightly colored cellophane hats and parti-colored tights doing a kickline while handsome hunks in bathing suits toss a pretty girl through the air? The illusion of giddy optimism generated by all this good clean fun may be even more engaging today than it was in 1935.
There is also something ineffable about this movie, enhanced by the beautiful Technicolor photography, which makes you feel completely immersed in the world of the past, the best parts of 1930's Hollywood. The music and entertainment on display, which by today's standards seems terribly square or utterly absurd, are performed with an edgy, hip coolness which transform them into something endlessly delicious.
Almost every musical number in this piece is memorable. "Hot Lips" is a terrific example of a certain type of 1930's white jazz. I love the faux-Latin American quality of "The Martinique," accompanied by the bizarre dancing of that man with the full-sized Garbo (?) puppet attached to his feet. "Love Dropped In For Tea," sung with almost ludicrous suaveness by a male and female vocal duo and acted out by an entire cast of characters around the pool, charms and delights. But my favorite number has got to be "Oh! Honey, It's So Funny" where Cliff Edwards (Ukulele Ike) sings and plays while the blonde woman he is romancing pulls lit cigarettes out of his ukulele. Priceless!
And who can resist Ben Turpin and his googly eyeballs being romanced by 3 gals in "Gay 90's" swimwear?
With Reginald Denny's MC adding a refined yet ridiculous wink-wink-nudge-nudge air to the proceedings, cameos by stars like Clark Gable and Buster Crabbe, terrific impersonations of Ed Wynn, Jimmy Durante and others by the 3 Radio Rogues, and all of the aforementioned music and frolic, Starlit Days at the Lido packs plenty of entertainment into 20 minutes! I love this film.