Black and White: Cinema and Chocolate

10 films from the last decade

2009-08-08T00:03:00.020+01:00

That my film preferences lie with older stuff is not a surprise to anyone reading this blog. But people get annoyed when I can’t list a recent film which isn’t animated among my favourites. Even here, I think there have been only a handful of comments or posts about more recent films. So in order to dismiss the idea that I only watch or like old films, I went through my voting history at IMDb and selected a few from the top rated ones.

I have chosen the titles from films I have rated 8 or more and had a release date of 2000 or later. I have deliberately excluded animation, as otherwise Pixar would rule with Monsters, Inc., The Incredibles and Ratatouille making the cut. This also means that there’s no “Persepolis”. It is not the list of my highest rated films – my criteria change through time, and unless I watch the film again, I won’t revise my vote. Instead, I chose films that I thought were something different or left a mark on me for positive reasons – several are European, which is a change from what would have been a similar list 10 years ago. So, are you ready? Here it goes in chronological order:

Gosford Park (Robert Altman, 2001) – I think Altman described this as a Who-cares-Whodunit. It’s a very accurate description insomuch as the mystery goes. It is far more an account of the upstairs, downstairs lives of English aristocracy in 1932. The cast is nearly a who’s who of the great living British actors (Judi Dench, Miranda Richardson and a few others come to mind as missing) and the film is worth seeing for Maggie Smith’s scene stealing Countess alone.

Le Fate Ignoranti (Ferzan Ozpetek, 2001) – I can’t remember why I went to see this. I think someone recommend it. I also can’t remember if I saw it in the Watershed or (more likely) the Arnolfini in Bristol. But I was won over and Ozpetek has since become one of my favourite directors. A potential soap-opera (a woman finding out her recently deceased husband was having an affair with a man), it turns into a study of grief, survival, family and as in all Ozpetek films – food. And as ironies go, the two leads (playing opposite ends of the “love triangle”) end up playing husband and wife in Ozpetek’s later “Saturno Contro”.

À la folie... pas du tout (Laetitia Colombani, 2002) – Despite a 2002 release data I have only watched it a few months ago. It has Audrey Tautou and a fantastic script that kept surprising me, without being implausible. It uses a fantastic, old story device – different accounts of the same story. And, as always, the versions don’t necessarily match.

Far From Heaven (Todd Haynes, 2002) – If I had to venture a favourite in this list this is probably it. When I saw it last (and I have seen it three times, I think) I had yet to see Sirk’s “All That Heaven Allows” from which it borrows massively. Maybe it will change my perception of it, maybe not. It still has a fantastic script, Julianne Moore’s best performance ever (and that's a difficult choice), Elmer Bernstein’s beautiful score which was sadly his last, and Haynes endless love for the material is paying homage to.

La Mala Educación (Pedro Almodóvar, 2004) – In the mid-1990s, before he skyrocketed in the English-speaking world, I had passed through a mini love affair with Almodóvar. Then “Kika” came along (I saw it on the first TV screening in Portugal, so I guess around 1996-1997) and the affair was broken. “La Mala Educación” was the film that reconciled me with the Spanish director’s oeuvre. It probably isn’t my favourite Almodóvar, but I couldn’t resist all the “Double Indemnity” quotes, and Gael García Bernal is certainly one of cinema's deadliest “femmes fatales”.

Sommersturm (Marco Kreuzpaintner, 2004) – This is one of those films where a good script and confident acting and direction do combine quite well to produce something that is better than the sum of the parts. It’s a coming of age, coming out tale. Two teenager best friends are part of a rowing team, until one of them starts going out with a girl in the team and the other gets jealous.

Un long dimanche de fiançailles (Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2004) – Audrey Tautou again… A woman believes beyond all reason that her lover is still alive despite being given for dead in WWI. I didn’t think too much of “Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain”, although I know I am in the minority. However there was something about this next Jeunet/Tautou collaboration that touched me and makes me want to go back to it. But this time I want to see the film without the aid of English subtitles (French ones are allowed though).

Startdust (Matthew Vaughn, 2007) – This one appeals to the child, the romantic and the fan of swashbucklers in me. I watched it on the edge of my seat, something very rare, and with a smile on my face throughout. To make it perfect, I would take Rickie Gervais and Sienna Miller out of it. And then there’s Michelle Pfeiffer’s perfect, inspired casting – the scene when she admires herself in the mirror is my favourite. ‘Nouf said.

Gone Baby Gone (Ben Affleck, 2007) – I wasn’t expecting much, and certainly not the punch in the stomach that is this film. Discussing it with a friend a few days ago, he said the film was worth because of the ending. I think it is the most uncompromising ending I have seen in a film since “I am a fugitive from a Chain Gang” (and I mean that chronologically, so it's 1933) – but the film is more than that. It demands your attention and keeps you focus on it. Casey Affleck is great, and so is the actress who got the Best Supporting Actress nomination. Pity that life occasionally imitates art, and the film never got the attention it deserved.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Tim Burton, 2007) – A cinematographic adaptation of a Broadway musical is not the easiest thing to do. An adaptation of a Sondheim musical is even less, because of his music and his themes – this is not a musical for the masses, nor are the themes of Sweeney Todd for the fainted hearted. However, Tim Burton managed to do it successfully, helped by Johnny Deep and Helena Bonham-Carter, the latter massively overlooked. My favourite moment of hers is towards the end when she closes a door behind her. Her face shows how much heart broken she is for what she has done, which she knows it’s the only thing she could have done.

Third Finger, Left Hand (1940)

2009-10-07T12:50:00.006+01:00

If I say that “The Philadelphia Story”, “Double Indemnity”, “Tea and Sympathy” and “Old Acquaintance” have something in common with a slightly forgotten 1940 MGM comedy with Myrna Loy and Melvyn Douglas called “Third Finger, Left Hand” I doubt that anyone would guess – the reason is far too personal. At some stage or another each of them was the film I wanted to see the most. I now need to find a new one…

Margot Sherwood (Loy) is a magazine editor with a nice job and a mysterious husband she left soon after her impulse marriage while holidaying in Brazil. Everyone seems to win with this situation – her boss doesn’t see her as available, her boss’ wife doesn’t see her as threat and she doesn’t see herself as out of a job. Except for the fact that there is no husband and she was never married. And it all works well until she meets Jeff Thompson (Douglas) and he finds out about the charade. He then decides to pass as the long lost hubby, and complications ensue.

Although not perfect, the film is funny, entertaining and perhaps unjustly forgotten, especially considering the calibre of both leads. Douglas was at his best as a comedy leading man, having done “Ninotchka” the previous year, and Loy has here one of her best MGM vehicles without William Powell. In fact, it’s clearly her vehicle through and through and she knows it. But she never runs away with it. It’s a team effort, as usually was with her. But she does fill the screen – just look at her feline eyes after having just persuaded Felix Bressart to continue helping by writing fake love letters. For a few seconds she does look as the cat that got the cream. Or later, when she just called Douglas under a false pretext and he doesn’t get her true intentions. To me there was only one obvious false step: when turning the table on Douglas, Loy pretends to be a tough Brooklyn dame that just got herself a nice husband. Not sure who thought of that, but there is something in that scene that doesn’t quite work out, whether it is the accent, or how much un-Myrna she becomes. I laughed, but only partly with her.

Contrary to most films, I was slightly disappointed with the character actors – even with Felix Bressart, one of Lubitsch’s usual troupe and hilarious as one of the three comrades in the above mentioned “Ninotchka”. In particular, I now know for a fact that I absolutely can’t stand Bonita Granville and that she should have never been allowed to be in a film (she was also dreadful in a key role in “The Mortal Storm”). The rest is usual MGM post-Thalberg – bright lighting, beautiful sets, sofisticated costumes (thankfully not by Adrian), inconspicuous director (Robert Z. Leonard in this case).

Not that any of this diminished the pleasure I had in watching the film – it is a well built, funny comedy; and yes, it is a star vehicle, but one that works for both stars. In fact I was a bit sad that among all the films both of them did for MGM in their heyday, this was their only pairing (they would later work in other projects, including “Mr Blandings builds his dream house”).

The film also has an interesting historical footnote. It has a dignified, albeit small, part for a black actor and I am pretty sure Myrna and/or Douglas had something to do with it: a train porter who has taken a law degree by correspondence and turns out to be the vehicle for the inevitable happy ending.

Sunrise (1927) and how my taste has changed

2009-11-11T23:36:00.010Z

A few years ago Murnau's "Sunrise" got an extended run in one of Lisbon's arty cinemas and I got a chance to see it. To say that it bored the hell out of me is an understatement. I found the story uninteresting and other than the technical side of it I could not understand why people were raving so much about it.

The film is a parable and that's part of the reason I didn't like it. The characters have no name, they are generic, a Man and his Wife and the Woman from the City that tempts him off the path of virtue (he didn't seem to mind that much).

Tonight I saw it again at the BFI. I was pleasantly surprised. Ok, it's unevenly paced, with the beginning and the ending moving much faster that the longer city section that at times seems to take forever. But I quite like the German Expressionism feel of it and the trick shots, especially one where George O'Brien is thinking of his seductress and superimposed images of her seem to kiss him and hug him. Janet Gaynor provoked mixed feelings, but I quite liked how she mimicked a wounded animal after her husband's attempt to kill her. George O'Brien too was great as the big beast that indulges in lustful and murderous thoughts, but the moment he shaves and becomes tamed he looses part of his appeal. Best of all is Margaret Livingston as the Woman from the city. She's so sexy and deadly, and I love her face in the end.

I still don't agree with all the superlatives people use to classify it, but I have mellowed substantially my dislike of the film. Moreover, I quite liked it at times. According to some quick online search, I must have seen the film around 4 years ago. So, have my tastes changed that much? Possibly - In those 4 years I got to see many more silents, including some of the most acclaimed such as "The Crowd", "Greed", "Birth of a Nation", "Intolerance" and "The Wind" among many others - and looking forward to "Show People" in December. So am I now fluent enough in a language I hated (a bit like English, but that's another story) and therefore can appreciate it better? Unlike English, I still don't like it a lot, but I am getting there. But tonight's screening had a side effect: I am now quite keen to watch the Borzage BFI DVDs that I got from Amazon not long ago and that are full of Janet Gaynor. As for "Sunrise" maybe there's hope - maybe third time's lucky.

Errol Flynn's comedies: The Perfect Specimen (1937) and Four's a Crowd (1938)

2009-09-11T17:15:00.006+01:00

Errol Flynn is probably known for his swashbucklers, for his westerns and for his war films. But he isn’t known for his comedies, despite some quite funny turns in some of his adventure films. After watching “The Perfect Specimen” (1937) and “Four’s a Crowd” (1938), both directed by Michael Curtiz, I think that is unfair.

I really can’t think of any actor other than Errol Flynn who could, with a straight face, carry a film with such a title as “The Perfect Specimen”. This applies to both actors from today and yesterday. It is such a ridiculous title that the lead would probably be crash underneath it. Yet Flynn succeeds. He is perfectly credible as physical perfection, and his charm is enough to carry us and entice us with his naivety as he does to Joan Blondell.

Somewhere between a screwball and a romantic comedy, the hero is the heir of a great fortune being groomed by his eccentric grandmother to become “the perfect specimen”, a role model to all his future employees. That is until Joan Blondell comes along, all energy and sexual assurance, and like a knight in shining armour barges in, (literally) destroys the prison and rescues the princess. Only the gender roles are inverted here. Blondell takes control and shows Flynn the world that he has been missing.

Despite being funny, and very often very funny, something disappoints slightly. It just misses being a classic comedy, and because of the near miss it is a bit frustrating. There were some reasons for this. Edward Everett Horton is rather boring, making a pantomime of the pantomime that is his screen persona (the silly, asexual and absent-minded middle aged man, who just possibly is a sissy – and he usually does it well), and May Robson, as the grandmother has a thankless part, which is so obviously built for the laughs that isn’t funny. Plus something else that I will mention below. On the plus side, there is one of the funniest character actors ever (Allen Jenkins) as the truck-driver boxer that Flynn knocks down. There is also great chemistry from both leads. So it is hard not to recommend it.

“Four’s a Crowd” is a love square. It’s also a weaker film. It’s still funny, just not as much as it could/should be. To start Olivia de Havilland, who I think is a wonderful actress has a thankless part of the irritating girl, obviously the second female lead. Her leading man, Patrick Knowles looks pretty and sulky and indecisive. The real joy is watching Rosalind Russell (in a near dress rehearsal for “His Girl Friday”) and Errol Flynn fight and play each other and the other two to get what they want. Flynn is a delight when he plays the unscrupulous cad (again, think of Cary Grant in “His Girl Friday”) but becomes far less interesting when he gains a heart. Russell has her best performance of the 1930s among those I have seen, more interesting that the respectable and dull second fiddle of some of her MGM fare (“China Seas” comes to mind).

But there are two things (other than Flynn) that both films have in common. One is the annoying presence of Hugh Herbert who plays the poet in “The Perfect Specimen” and the justice of peace in “Four’s a Crowd”. If you ever seen a Daffy Duck cartoon from when he was a crazy duck, that’s pretty much the nonsensical material you have here. You may like it, I don’t. It tainted my enjoyment of both films to not a small degree. The second thing is Curtiz, the man for all jobs at Warner during the 1930s and 1940s. Despite having done films in nearly every genre, there are some stylist traits of his that are present in nearly all his films – camera angles and contrasting lighting with shadows and lights. None of it exists here. Is it because they are comedies? Because they are routine jobs and he didn’t have much interest in the material? I don’t know – but as one of my favourite studio directors I was hoping for more of him here.

Child of Manhattan (1933)

2009-12-22T23:26:00.004Z

I saw "Child of Manhattan" yesterday. I had never heard of it until I saw the December programme for the Portuguese Cinematheque. Even the fact that it's based on a Preston Sturges' play wasn't enough. Since I am here for the holidays, of course I went to see it. I was pleasantly surprised. The more old films I see the more I am convinced that deep down in the archives lie some hidden gems. This is one of them.

This is a charming pre-code where a millionaire falls in love with a dancer and makes her his lover. When she gets pregnant he decides to secretly marry her. It's all about being a nice person and doing the right thing, and how two rights might almost do a wrong. If I say more I'll spoil it. Although it doesn't feel like a stage play, it has a coherence that sadly too often seems to be lacking in early 1930s films.

Nancy Carroll is the leading lady, playing it with touching sympathy. Until I saw "Hot Saturday" earlier this year I had never heard of her. Now I would like to see more of her films. The leading man was not as inspired, but I can live with that, especially as I could believe the two characters loved each other. Jane Darwell as the girl's mother in a couple of scenes and Jessie Ralph as her friend steal the show and got my biggest laughs.

Two-strip Technicolor and The Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933)

2009-12-21T00:22:00.006Z

On Saturday I saw my first two-strip Technicolor film, Michael Curtiz's "The Mystery of the Wax Museum" (1933), despite owning "Doctor X" on DVD since it came out. The film itself is a mix of pre-code dialogue and early talkie horror/mystery. It works much better on the pre-code side, mainly because of Glenda Farrell who despite third billing is the de facto lead of the film. She's funny, fast and naughty, and doesn't hurt that Frank McHugh is there to support her. As a horror/mystery it left me cold, probably because I knew the twist before I watched the film.

However, what fascinated me the most about the film was the fact that it was in colour (well, sort of...). This was the last major studio production of a two-strip Technicolor film, a process that only registered red and green (the three-strip would add blue). By 1933 Disney had successfully released "Flowers and Trees" and this one had to look bad. Because it actually does look bad. The colours are rather awkward to look at. It almost looks like it has been discoloured by the sun. The flesh tones are pink, but not the right sort; and there's way too much green for New York. Not too far away from colourization of a black and white film. Fair enough, this particular film also had the misfortune of being considered lost once and the copy that resurfaced was not in the best shape. I saw it projected rather than on a TV, in a dark cinema rather than a bright living room. Even that didn't help. Furthermore, the fact that this wasn't shot in black and white also takes out all atmospheric elements that a film like this needs - it just looks way too bright. Maybe in a comedy it would have worked better, but a horror film?! It flopped, I need not add, and I am not surprised.

Barbara Stanwyck and why I love her

2009-04-03T16:23:00.006+01:00

I envisaged this post a few weeks ago, albeit in a slightly different form. I got the idea for it while watching my third Barbara Stanwyck film of the weekend, Fritz Lang’s “Clash by Night” (1952) – the other two being Robert Siodmark’s “The File on Thelma Johnson” (1950) and Douglas Sirk’s “There’s always Tomorrow” (1956). It was meant to cover all three films, and my general love for the actress. On top of these, in the last few months I had a chance to see “Meet John Doe” again and watch “The Furies” and “You Belong to Me” for the first time (the latter in a Sony release for Portugal and Spain which left a lot to be desired). Sadly have yet to finish “Clash by Night”, so let’s see where this post goes.

If my memory doesn’t betray me, and going through her filmography on IMDb, I’ve seen around 25 of her films, am halfway through two (“East Side, West Side” is the other), have still to watch three I owe and have one more on the way. And there’s still many more I would like to see – she was arguably the queen of pre-code (“Baby Face” is amazing and I was quite impressed with “The Bitter Tea of General Yen”), a gifted comedienne (“Ball of Fire”), excelled at drama (the Sirk melodramas, “My Reputation”) and created one of the definitive femme fatales in “Double Indemnity”. But there’s no love like the first, and of her films my favourite is “The Lady Eve”. Of all the leading ladies of classic Hollywood none can match her range, and in my eyes the only one who I love more is Bette Davis post-1938, William Wyler and “Jezebel”.

True, she sometimes indulges in too much hysterics. The opening scene of “Forbidden” is a tad too much, as is most of her (small) part in “Executive Suite”. Her work in the early 1930s is not always balanced, her body posture is often too aggressive, too out there – “Night Nurse” is ok but “The Miracle Woman” and “Forbidden” left me cold. I much prefer her 1940s stuff. She’s more subtle – Hawks in “Ball of Fire” and Preston Sturges in “The Lady Eve” seem to have had a touch in that, as probably did Edith Head, who did her costumes for most of her Paramount films. Less aggressive, more vulnerable, capable of producing an amazing performance as a widow falling in love with a soldier who was considered her social inferior (“My Reputation”). Almost like a WWII version of “All that Heaven Allows”. In the 1950s, when she had the luck of good material she gave an amazingly touching performance like in “There’s Always Tomorrow”. But now she was, more often than not, the mistress of all men in tough Westerns like “Forty Guns” – not my favourite genre. Finally, in one of her final films she steals the screen with her lesbian madam preying over Capucine in “Walk on the Wild Side”.

I know exactly how all this started. I caught “The Lady Eve” by accident – As simple as that. I was going through a phase where I taped every old film of television as my mother put it, which I have to say was a great education. I fell in love with Stanwyck immediately (and the film) and thus started a love affair through the silver screen that still lasts. A few scenes pop to mind – the first few scenes with Henry Fonda at the boat, the ones on the train when she tortures him with the made-up stories of her past lovers but above all, the scene where she hatches her plan, when in a close up full of mischievousness and in a posh English accent she utters the words “I shall be as English as necessery” (yes, I know it’s wrongly spelled, it’s on purpose). I honestly think her Oscar nomination for “Ball of Fire” should have been for “The Lady Eve”.

My first contact with the films of Douglas Sirk was because of her (I saw “All I Desire” many years ago at the Portuguese Cinematheque during a Sirk retrospective). Later, “Double Indemnity” (Billy Wilder AND Barbara Stanwyck, how could I resist it?) was top of my want-to-see list for ages until I got the original R1 DVD in 2002. Definitely she was one of the deadliest of all women in film. There are still loads of her films I would love to see, mostly pre-codes (“Illicit”, “Ladies they talk about”, plus “The Purchase Price” which is arriving soon), but also some of the comedies and noir (“The Two Mrs Carrolls”, which I know will be out on DVD eventually as it has Humphrey Bogart in it).

She is unusual for her time, as rather than be signed to a single studio, she had short-term contracts. Her pre-codes are mostly at Warner or Columbia, the comedies mostly at Paramount and RKO, the noir and the melodrama again at Paramount and Warner. She later also did films for Universal, MGM and Fox – she worked with all seven majors (and some independent ones as well).

Mmm… this is massive now. I think I will leave a post on “There’s Always Tomorrow” for later.

The Innocents (1961)

2009-12-20T01:03:00.004Z

Don’t be fooled by all the gothic thriller trickery of it, this is a film about sex, although you may not notice it at first. To be more precise, it’s about the consequences of either repressing or following your urges.

Based on Henry James’ “The Turn of the Screw”, the film follows the daughter of a vicar, Miss Giddens (Kerr), who is offered a position as governess of two children in an isolated country house. She takes the job half in love with an employer that she isn’t supposed to see again, someone who has a reputation as a charmer. Once in the house she becomes first disturbed and then obsessed with her predecessor, Miss Jessel, and her lover Quint. Both are now dead, and since they both had such strong influence over the children, she comes to believe that they are possessing them.

Kerr’s character is clearly someone whose prospects of marrying are nil, probably like those of her predecessor. Completely frustrated – and to be sure of that just look at her childish enthusiasm at the interview or at the mention of her employer – she becomes fascinated by the discoveries she makes about the lustful, obsessive and ultimately tragic sexual relation between the former governess and Quint. Here lies the wonderfulness of the film – is she imagining it, or is it actually happening? We are never given a clear answer (thankfully!). Her reactions are excessive, and go against her, but the other character’s reactions are vague enough to give us some reason to believe that it may not be her just imagination.

At the core is the issue of Victorian morals where all sex outside marriage and without the purpose of procreation is wrong. Me has a feeling that Henry James didn’t really agree with that. On the surface, the upright, repressed, virginal Miss Giddens seems to be what the children need as an example, but her actions and reactions to events undermine this, despite the fact that you know her heart is in the right place. On the other hand, while not be the best role models, the lustful, “sinning” Miss Jessel and Quint appear to be more satisfying parental figures, and haven’t harmed the children at all. I go as far as suggest that the evidence even suggests otherwise. Furthermore, Kerr’s need to “do good” to others, whether or not they want it, is also clearly under fire, as the audience perhaps goes with the housekeeper’s view that sometimes is worse to wake up a child from a dream.

Enhancing all this is the joint effect of sound, music, décor editing and cinematography. And this is where you get the more atmospheric elements, where these transgressions take more obvious gothic elements. The light as Deborah Kerr arrives at the house contrasting with the darkness of the final shots; that beautiful house that suddenly turns into a nightmare of secrets and the music that tells as much as the actors’ faces. Most of all I love the fact that is a black and white cinemascope film.

I think it was no accident that Deborah Kerr, an actress who had a gift for repressing (e.g. “Separate Tables”, “Black Narcissus”) or exposing sexual urges (e.g. “Tea and Sympathy” and rather more obviously, “From Here to Eternity”) according to the need of her part. She excels in the role, and I have stated here, this is one of my favourite performances of hers. I really can’t think of any other actress who could carry the film so well.

I don’t think either children were that good, but I think Martin Stephens who plays Miles, the young boy, needs a mention under trivia: he seems to have cornered the polite scary kid really well, since in the previous year he was in “The Village of the Damned”.

Show People (1928)

2009-12-11T00:09:00.003Z

History is written by the victors. In cinema, it’s those who become more successfully, either critically or commercially. Billy Wilder and Preston Sturges demise of Mitchell Leisen meant that until recent he wasn’t held in much consideration. Yet, there is a more famous example. Citizen Kane as everyone knows was partly based on the life of Randolph Hearst; consequently Susan Alexander Kane, the character’s second wife and failed opera singer, must have been based on Marion Davies, Hearst’s mistress. This has lead to the myth that Davies was poor actress.

I have heard many arguments against this opinion, but had no opinion has I had never seen one of her films. Whatever the truth, the shadow of Susan Alexander Kane will forever fall over Davies and if nothing else because her films are quite hard to come by. This week I got a chance to see at the BFI one of her celebrated comedies “Show People” and now I am inclined to agree with those who think that Susan is not a fair portrait of Marion. She was hilarious.

King Vidor’s “Show People” is, after “Sunset Blvd.”, arguably the biggest satire Hollywood ever made of itself. It’s equally sharp, but the bitterness is not yet – sound has yet to come and erase the first generation of demigods. This is the story of an aspiring actress, Peggy Pepper, who becomes a hit in slapstick comedies and metamorphoses herself into Patricia Pepoire, the serious thespian she always wanted to be. It’s not too hard to fast forward twenty years to the late forties and see in Patricia, Norma Desmond. In fact, the film’s story is loosely based on Gloria Swanson’s path to stardom.

The screening I attended was introduced by Kevin Brownlow who pointed out several of the in-jokes that recur into the movie. Some are obvious like the John Gilbert character, some of the faces doing cameos (Chaplin, Gilbert himself, etc.), some not entirely obscure, such as the sets that resemble (or maybe are the same) as Vidor’s hit “The Big Parade”. Many, however, are lost to me, and I imagine to all but a very, very small minority of the audience. This is a tragedy, as it is obvious a contemporary audience would have got the jokes, thus making the film twice as funny. Kevin Brownlow told us he had one of the crew watching the film and telling many of these jokes. I would love to have been there. My favourite moment has to be when aspiring Peggy meets Marion Davies herself. She was not impressed.

Supporting Davies is another forgotten star of the late silent period – William Haines. Haines’ career was partly boycotted by Louis B. Mayer because the (fairly) openly gay actor didn’t want to have a fake marriage preferring to live with his partner. Like Davies he lasted a few years into sound and then bowed out and pursued an alternative career. In this film, despite his leading man status, and the obvious chemistry between the leads, he is really there to support the main star, to the point where nearly disappears for most of the second half of the film. But in his early scenes there is certainly an energy and a presence there that made me curious to see more of him. And I might have too much hindsight, but after his the way he moves onscreen during his first scene, wasn’t anyone suspicious of his bachelorhood?

Virtue (1932)

2009-12-06T00:27:00.005Z

There are a few Pre-code films that really pushed the envelope with either plot or characters, like "Men in White" or "Penthouse", but because of one thing or another are hardly seen or talked about today. "Virtue" is definitely one of them - Carole Lombard is a prostitute (you are left with no doubt about that, believe me) who meets a taxi driver (Pat O'Brien). They marry and on their wedding night he founds out about her past. After the initial shock, he decides to stay. And this only the first half an hour, and later of course he wonders if his wife is not back to her old ways. On top of this, there is great dialogue, particularly in the beginning, and a veiled reference to an abortion ("nervous breakdown") made by one of Lombard's former colleagues.

Lombard is quite good throughout and Mayo Methot as her friend steals the show with her final scene. (On a point of trivia, she was to be the third Mrs Bogart). The first half is well done and well written. But the film has one flaw that was too much for me. The second half's plot line seems to be glued to rather than built from the beginning. In particular, the scene that starts it is so bad that I was in no doubt about what was really happening - something that the audience is told a few minutes later. To be honest, I almost gave up on the film at that moment. It was lazy writing and bad acting. It's a pity, as I think if someone had put a bit more effort into solving both problems, the film would be as talked about as some of Stanwyck's more notorious films.

Mitchell Leisen/Olivia de Havilland on DVD (R2)

2009-11-30T22:47:00.006Z

I was quite pleased when I found out today that the nice people at Universal in Spain are releasing on DVD both collaborations of director Mitchell Leisen and actress Olivia de Havilland: "Hold Back the Dawn" and "To Each His Own".
Yes, it's a R2 release, but if by now you still not multiregion capable, shame on you.
It seems both titles and "Remember the Night" have been released a couple of months ago as exclusives to a very famous chain of department stores there. Fortunately it seems the two I don't own will be on general release as of Thursday. This certainly has put a smile on my face and I shall be buying them soon.

The Corn is Green (1945)

2009-09-23T17:36:00.008+01:00

For a period of eight years, from 1938 till 1946, Bette Davis had hardly any rival in Hollywood as a dramatic actress. Her films of the period showed an unprecedented investment from Warners to a leading actress, which was rewarded with a string of box-office hits, where she often playing ruthless or self-sacrificing women, with one or two in the middle. Among the latter, is “The Corn is Green”. This is the story of a middle-age spinster who upon inheriting a house in a Welsh mining town decides to become a schoolteacher and develops a fondness towards a bright young miner (John Dall) she tries to persuade to go to Oxford.

This isn’t one of Davis’ more familiar efforts, despite one or two scenes regularly appearing on documentaries about the actress. Never shy about dressing up to the part, she betters the principles she applied in “The Old Maid” to make herself look older. In my opinion is one of her best performances – she conveys the self-assurance and self-doubts of the character without her trademark mannerisms (she doesn’t smoke, her hands are generally quiet, even her eyes are controlled far more than usually); her love for the young man, and perhaps the associated regret of being too old, is never more than suggested at, and in reality it may just be maternal love.

John Dall, who got an Oscar nomination for his performance, left me pretty indifferent. In both “Rope” and “Gun Crazy” he gives far more interesting performances – but maybe the parts were also better. The rest of the supporting cast, on the other hand, was fine, with the exception of the maid’s daughter, played too much as caricature to be part of the same world as Davis’ more realistic performance.

I really liked the use of Welsh songs as leitmotiv for the time passing, and the songs then permeate through the film, with Max Steiner picking a few themes to include in his score. Irving Rapper, frequently dismissed as a studio craftsman, surprisingly had an interesting sense of direction. His sudden camera movements towards close-ups seem to be a trademark (something that also can be seen in his “Now, Voyager”) but were a tad too often and started to irritate me, but his camera shots were subtle, advancing our perception of the characters – take the two great confrontations scenes between Davis and Dall. In the first, half way through the film and its most famous scene, she is in command, standing; in the second, when so much has happened, is also his moment – he is the one dominating, and the one now standing, and with camera shots from above.

Warner has promised in a press-release of one of its Bette Davis collections that they were restoring the film, with the obvious assumption that it would come out at some stage. I really hope so – I really enjoyed it.

Leave Her to Heaven (1945)

2009-10-29T20:25:00.007Z

I need to start this by saying that I like this film very much. I like it because of its amazing Technicolor cinematography, because of its colour palette, because of how dark it gets (especially in a few key scenes) and of course, because of Gene Tierney's beauty. I like it despite Cornel Wilde and Jeanne Crain, despite Gene Tierney's limited acting ability, despite Vincent Price irritating me somewhat in his early Fox years and despite Alfred Newman's quite loud score. I can't define any better why I like it, but I do. Maybe because there are a few close-ups of Gene Tierney in this film which, should you get a chance to see it in the cinema, are worth the price of admission.

The story is intriguing and catches you - a woman so obsessed with her father marries a man who resembles him. Each time that someone gets between them, she doesn't react very well. Plus the ending is a bit rushed. It sounds bad. It isn't. It grabs you. It is also not a horror film. And you never lose your sympathy for this woman who isn't quite all there. On the contrary, you see things from her angle. In fairness, she does have a point. Her husband clearly pays no attention to her, and seems to be quite oblivious to the thought of spending time alone together.

So again, does this explain why I like this film so much? I really don't know, I simply do. There's some magic somewhere, which is interesting as I usually find Stahl uninspired.

Perhaps it's the crossing between melodrama and film noir. At moments you can't tell if it's one, the other, both or neither. I like that mix of genres, it appeals to me. The genre rules are simultaneously obeyed, bent and broken. And then there is the cinematography. While watching the film last night at the BFI I was impressed with how large it looked, especially the close-ups (and I have seen my fair share of classics at that particular screen, more or less in that row). And above all else, the colours. Browns, blues and greens are everywhere. Her white against the green and the blue in the scene at the lake (you'll know which one...) - and her close-up in that scene. The blue slipper in the stairs scene - you'd never thought a shoe other than Cinderella's could be so cinematic. Some colours are natural (the film has plenty of location shots), some not, together in a very engaging and disturbing colour study. And you know that when realise that the only real red in sight is in Gene Tierney's lips. As quoted on the blurb, they are "as red as a witch's apple" - and you better believe it.

Frenchman's Creek (1944)

2009-07-18T20:11:00.003+01:00

Still on coincidences, a couple of last minute changes to the Portuguese Cinemateque's programme allowed me to watch Mitchell Leisen's "Frenchman's Creek". It seems it was the most expensive picture at Paramount up to that stage, at $3m and it starred Joan Fontaine. She plays Donna St. Columb a bored noblewoman who decides to leave London for Cornwall and falls in love with a pirate. Not sure how faithfull the whole thing is to Daphne du Maurier's novel but it doesn't really bother me, as it is a rather interesting crossroad of genres - it's part romantic film, part comedy, half heartly disguised as a swashbuckler. I mean disguised because despite that 1) the baddy is Basil Rathbone (the second best baddy ever, after Conrad Veit); 2) there is a pirate and; 3) there is a poor excuse of a sword fight at some stage, our focus is never on the hero, but on the heroine. Arturo de Córdova's pirate is never more than the love interest. And he's less than say, Olivia de Havilland in the Flynn pictures or Maureen O'Hara with Tyrone Power in "The Black Swan", both of which are more interesting characters.

So back to our centre of focus - Joan Fontaine. There's something different here, and she's also neither Maureen nor Olivia. She's openly sexy and certainly not a virgin anymore. She shows her shoulders and clivage, her dresses are very flattering, and she toys with men as she never accustomed me before. Her dialogue and playfullness made me wonder how she passed censor boards - and despite the fact there is a line of dialogue reassuring us that nothing was tainted, I think there are clear indications that the relationship was, well, consumated. (Which would make her an adulteress, something punishable under the Hays code). In summary, Joan Fontaine is not the Joan Fontaine Hitchcock and Ophüls showed the world, is something else. Something much, much sexier.

The film has many flaws - the script goes weak at times, Leisen was probably not the best action sequence director, the leading man was uninspired and Basil Rathbone is not enough on screen. Also Cecil Kellway's wonderful servant of two masters hardly appears during the second half. But it is fun, and not unpleasurable to watch.

As a footnote, my only regret is that for a film celebrated for its Technicolor cinematography I saw a faded 16mm print. Very faded - a lot of salmon going on. And fat chance of watching a better copy in London, as this is the National Film and Television Archive's copy (i.e. the BFI)... Oh well, I hope there is a better preserved copy somewhere.

Remember the Night (1940)

2009-05-27T17:02:00.007+01:00

“Remember the Night” is a romantic comedy, and the first pairing of Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray. She’s a thief caught stealing a few days before Christmas. He’s the prosecutor who wants to put her jail and gets the trial to be adjourned till after the New Year. Only he gets guilty and ends up spending the whole Christmas period with her.

The film is simply delightful. It’s well directed, well acted, well paced. I’m surprised it’s not really as well known as other comedies of the period. I think it’s one of Preston Sturges best scripts along with “The Lady Eve” (1941) which he himself directed, also starring Barbara Stanwyck. In reality, her character in Leisen’s film is a first draft (but what a draft!) for her character in Sturges’ masterpiece. Fred MacMurray is at his best as a romantic leading man, and his chemistry with Stanwyck amazing. The same chemistry that both actors would take a step further that less than five years later, as the so sexy and so deadly protagonists in Billy Wilder’s “Double Indemnity”.

Mitchell Leisen, the director, is mostly remembered for allegedly been the reason Billy Wilder and Preston Sturges started directing – they didn’t appreciate his treatments of their scripts. Thankful as I am that both men turned into directors, it’s not a fair assessment. Wilder’s comments on him were always harsh, stating that he gave more importance to costumes and décor (Leisen was a former art director/set designer) than to substance (i.e. his script). For Wilder the last straw was during the filming of “Hold Back the Dawn” (1941); for Sturges, the previous year’s “Remember the Night”. Having seen both films, I think it’s more of a case of the victors rewriting history.

Leisen was a director who did very good stuff if the material (and the actors) he had to work with was good. And that shows in films like “Hands across the Table”, “Midnight” and “Hold Back the Dawn” (by the way, I don’t like “Easy Living”…). If the material was ok but not as good, he couldn’t improve much on it – for instance in “The Mating Season”. So yes, he wasn’t Wilder or Sturges, but he was far from a fool obsessed with decors. And there’s suddenly an interest in his work. There were some retrospectives in the 2007 Edinburgh Film Festival and last summer in the French Cinematheque. And little by little, his films are coming out on DVD – like “Remember the Night”.

On the DVD: At the moment this film is only part of an Italian 4 disc DVD box set “Cofanetto Mitchell Leisen” which includes this, “Midnight”, “Easy Living”, “Arise my Love”, “No Time for Love” and “Lady in the Dark” (there are 2 films in discs 2 and 3). The quality of all the films is quite good, with some restoration work done to them – except for “Lady in the Dark”. This is a faded Technicolor copy, with Italian subtitles burnt in, probably taken directly from an archive copy somewhere. It’s a pity – especially cause they could have included “Hold Back the Dawn” or “To Each his Own”.

To Each His Own (1946)

2009-11-13T23:15:00.004Z

When she did “To Each His Own”, Olivia de Havilland was just under 30. Yet, for the first 15 minutes of the film what we see is a woman that is supposed, at worst, to be in her late 40s. What is interesting is how that make-up resembled Olivia, not aged 50, but aged 60. She beat her make-up artists’ worst predictions.

Of course what was at stake was not realism, but a quick way to let the audience know that this practical, pragmatic woman that spent her New Year’s Eve in a church rooftop during the Blitz, has given up the emotional part of her life. Then we have the start of a long flashback where all is explained to us. This is the story of a mother who gives away her love child after the father’s death in WWI, first forced, then nobly and then goes to the background and suffers in silence.

This is high quality melodrama, with full production values and acting to match. Mitchell Leisen delivers one fine film and more and more I believe he is an underrated director of post-Lubitsch comedies (not in the same league as Wilder or Sturges, but close) and romantic films (both comedies and dramas).

There’s some subtlety in the “villainess”, as you can sympathise with her, moreover, you are left wondering what you would do in her place. There’s also some ambiguity in Olivia’s character, as she becomes desperate to recover the child. Finally, there’s some realistic attitude towards sex, with Olivia knowingly seducing John Lund because he only has three hours before his license ends. Later we are presented with a positive example of women in business. Plus, I loved the ending. Interestingly, the film is scripted and produced by Charles Brackett, in one of his few non-Wilder collaborations of the 1940s. Brackett and Wilder reportedly started producing and directing their own scripts because of Leisen's treatment of their material, so I find it curious that suddenly the two are collaborating again. Its main flaw (only serious flaw?) is the casting of John Lund, who has systematically left me cold.

De Havilland, an actress that I like very much, won the first of her two Oscars for this. Partly, I suspect, it was a reward for her courage to fight the studio system. Partly because she suffers so much on screen, and the Academy loves that. I mean, how can they resist? Except that among the losers was Celia Johnson for “Brief Encounter” and that makes it one of the great injustices of the Oscars.

Stanwyck in noir: The Two Mrs Carrolls (1947) and No Man of Her Own (1950)

2009-11-14T22:05:00.007Z

When people think of a femme fatale in film noir, I am sure at least half of them think of Barbara Stanwyck in her dreadful blonde wig and anklet in "Double Indemnity". However, she spent a lot of time in the land of noir, in films like "Sorry, Wrong Number", "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers" and the two that I am about to talk in a bit more detail. Sometimes the deadliest character, more often as the 40s turned into the 50s, she became the victim, like in "The Two Mrs Carrolls", or at least a victim of fate and circumstances, as in "No Man of Her Own". Personally, I like her more when she's a manipulative bitch ("Double Indemnity", "The File on Thelma Jordan").

"The Two Mrs Carrolls" is the only pairing of Bogart and Stanwyck. While on holiday, Geoffrey Carroll (Bogart) meets and falls in love with Sally Morton (Stanwyck). When she finds out he's married to an invalid she leaves him. After the death of the first Mrs Carroll, they marry and she inspires him to do some of his best work. All goes well until neighbour Alexis Smith comes into the scene and suddenly Sally starts suspecting things, but is unsure if it's all her imagination.

I have to admit I was completely drawn into the film. It has a well built element in suspense, which mounts quite well as the film progresses. It's clever enough to keep you wondering for a bit what is fact and what is fantasy. When you're certain - and you'll be before Sally, then it becomes a good cat and mouse game. Because of the second banana (i.e. the second male love interest) being just that, it contributes to absence of certainty about the ending. But it's not hard to see Hitchcock's influence in the film, especially "Rebecca" (the title reminiscent of the two Mrs de Winter) and "Suspicion" (a glass of milk as a key prop here as well). But while a good studio product, this is not in that league. If anything, the director's mark pales to WB 1940's style. Bogart wouldn't be my choice for this, but I was never his greatest fan. Still he pulls it off ok. Stanwyck does a bit more than in the following year's "Sorry, Wrong Number" which is quite pleasing. Alexis Smith is Alexis Smith trying her hardest to be an Hitchcock blonde. It's not a failure, but is not a success either. But my favourite is Ann Carter as the very quiet daughter who knows far more than she thinks - and that's a lot.

Mitchell Leisen's "No Man of Her Own" has elements of noir, but I am not entirely sure if that it can be as easily classified as "The Two Mrs Carrolls". Stanwyck plays a pregnant woman jilted by her lover (he gives her a train ticket and $5). On the train to San Francisco she meets a young woman, also pregnant, whose husband is taking her to meet her in-laws for the first time. Then the train crashes and there is a case of mistaken identity - that is, until the ex-lover returns.

While the film flows really well and I was really into it, I think something failed a bit. Considering how several things are presented in shades of grey throughout the film (I was left wondering how much Mrs Harkness knew), the ending is a tad too clean - Paramount or Leisen didn't seem willing to try to bend the rules a bit and give the audience something more satisfying (the closing voice-over is terrible). This is a pity, especially considering the engaging material. On the positive, I really liked the opening narration, suggesting marital problems but that ends with something slightly unexpected. Stanwyck and the supporting cast are great, especially Lyle Bettger as the ex-lover and Jane Cowl as the old Mrs Harkness. I still don't like John Lund, and considering that three of his most celebrated films (including his début) are by Mitchell Leisen, I'm wondering what were the director's feelings for his star.

In all, both films keep your attention, and both show Stanwyck still at her prime, nearly 20 years after the start of her film career. True, neither part is Phyllis Dietrichson, but then neither film is "Double Indemnity".

Three-Cornered Moon (1933)

2009-11-27T23:18:00.003Z

My copy of the Claudette Colbert DVD collection arrived a few days ago, making me very happy. "Three-Cornered Moon" is earliest film in it, made in 1933 as Claudette Colbert was becoming an established star and is advertised as the first screwball comedy. Looking at the most relevant examples of the genre (such as "Twentieth Century", "My Man Godfrey", "Bringing up Baby") it certainly fits that bill. It has only one little flaw: it isn't funny.

In fairness, the last 20 minutes or so are an improvement, but I think it took me nearly an hour to sketch a smile (the film is around 80 minutes long). As a comparison, when I watched "I Met Him in Paris" a few days before, which is part of the same collection, I laughed beginning to end, despite its predictability. But back to "Moon" - a rich, silly family in NY finds out they're bankrupt and now they must go earn a living. It's the depression, so it isn't easy. Only the daughter (Colbert) seems to have some sense, except in her choice of man. You can fill the rest.

I can't recommend this one to anyone - it might put them off old films forever. But this box also has Lubitsch's "Bluebeard's Eight Wife", Leisen's "No Time for Love" and the above mentioned "I Met Him in Paris" with a wonderful performance from Melvyn Douglas. I haven't seen the other two films ("Maid of Salem" and "The Egg and I") but these three are great fun, with the first two somewhat neglected classics.

7th Heaven (1927)

2009-11-22T01:01:00.012Z

To describe the first 70 minutes of this love story between Diane, a prostitute, and Chico, a sewer cleaner, I truly can only use superlatives. It lives entirely to its reputation as a masterpiece, and probably doesn't do it justice. You can feel (rather than just see) these two beings falling in love with each other, complete with the little things, from absolute despair (they meet when he saves her from an abusing sister and later prevents her from committing suicide) to absolute faith in each other. The story is set just before and during WWI, and the long sequence that ends that first 70 minutes is of such intensity and intimacy even if a hardcore cynic like me was touched by it.

This part of the film is full of little gems: the pace of the story, told with great economy and not stopping at irrelevant moments; the beauty of the sets, in particular the stairs going up to the flat (they very much look like a single set which is amazing); the lighting which makes the film look gorgeous; the sister; Charles Farrell's facial expressions which reminded me of those of a friend and Janet Gaynor's wounded animal performance, something I quite liked in "Sunrise" but is so perfect for her character here - her best two moments being the sequence after Charles Farrell saves her and the sequence after the policeman leaves the flat.

And then the war comes, and while the action scenes aren't bad, they break the pace and change the atmosphere of the film. From a couple of intimate sets - we have spent most of the previous half an hour in the sewer cleaner's apartment - we are now in the open, in fields, in the trenches, in war rooms. Inevitably, the connection between the audience and the characters changes, and in my case the magic was gone, with the final sequence delivering a final blow in my interest. If you have seen the film, it's not the actual ending that I object to. It's the message that it conveys. Up to that point the cornerstone of the film had been a relation based on faith between two human beings, and suddenly God invades what it should never had invaded. Borzage did this later again in the ghastly "Strange Cargo" (which my flatmate loved, so "ghastly" is a very personal opinion). Yet, in his films I liked the most - "Mannequin", "The Mortal Storm", and to a slightly lesser extend "Three Comrades" and "The Shining Hour" (and I am excluding "Desire" since that one is more Lubitsch than Borzage) - he never crosses that barrier which is to me certain death. And I really regret that he crossed it here.

Two-Faced Woman (1941)

2009-07-23T00:59:00.008+01:00

How do you start a post on one of the most criticised films from Hollywood's golden years? By saying that isn't as bad as most people think it is? By pointing out that Garbo's swan song is actually a quite competent screwball comedy? I can try...

The film had a complication production history, it was recut after the original release (it seems there is a copy of the original cut, which I would like to see, and I might have missed in the 2004 Cukor retrospective at the BFI) and is far from perfect. Garbo isn't Irene Dunne, nor is the script in the same league as "Ninotchka". And here lies the problem - there is a conscient attempt to emulate the Lubistch film (same leading man, a druken Garbo scene, Constance Bennett replacing Ina Clair as the bitchy rival, etc.).

But the story isn't as bad as it is often painted. Frustrated by finding that her recently wed husband is courting his old flame, Karin pretends to be her twin sister to recover or punish her husband. Only unknown to her, he figures out her plan. Garbo isn't as good as under Lubitsch, but she isn't half bad. Only she's not as unreachable as say in "Anna Karenina" or "Camille". Quite the opposite. And I think this is what people hate about the film. It destroys their fantasies about Garbo. As for Melvyn Douglas, he can do better, but again, he's not as bad as people think he is here. There is chemistry, and there is good comedy in his performance - just look at the scene in his hotel room. And then there's Constance Bennett - bitchy perfect, and reminding me why I thought she was SO good in two early Cukor films ("Our Betters" and "What Price Hollywood?").

Test Pilot (1938)

2009-11-18T23:50:00.004Z

Clark Gable. Myrna Loy. Spencer Tracy. And below the credits, Lionel Barrymore. Could this be one of the main MGM productions for 1938?! (yeah, I know, sarcasm doesn't translate very well into writing). Pity is that on occasion they went for the cheap solution and had back-projection instead of outdoor scenes. Which makes even less sense when considering that the shots before and after were outdoor ones. Little things like that bug me a lot - I mean, either do everything in a studio, or do it outside. Mix and match is not really the best option.

However, this is not the only problem in this story of a dare-devil pilot and the ones around him that love him. Clark Gable was not a great actor. He was very much a "personality" as they used to say. And in the previous year, in another film with Myrna Loy, his attempt to be serious bombed at the box-office (the film is called "Parnell" and I have yet to see it). So MGM did what MGM did so well and reverted back to type, and in 1938 two Gable films, with Gable parts opened. One was "Too Hot to Handle" and the other "Test Pilot". Both have Myrna Loy as the love interest. Neither excited me particularly. Gable's screen persona was the cad who reformed. On occasion he excelled ("Gone with the wind") but more often than not he was too unpleasant. And this belongs to the latter, to the point where I can't understand why anyone would stick around him.

Myrna Loy doesn't fare much better here. Except in her scenes with Tracy I failed to empathise with her - and you should, as she is supposed to be one of the emotional cores of the film. She looks pretty, oh so pretty, but inconsequential for most of the time. Perhaps is Gable, but with exception of "Manhattan Melodrama", all five pairings out of seven I have seen with the two of them left me cold. The exception is probably because of William Powell, with whom Loy had indeed great chemistry.

Then there's Spencer Tracy, who is the best thing in the whole film. His performance is subtle, discreet and more interestingly to a modern audience, somewhat of an oddity. You see, the film is built in such way that Tracy's character is in love with Gable's. The devotion, the looks, the tears (!). I never imagined Tracy playing gay, but he does it, and in a believable way. And by the way, this is past "male friendship" - just look at his last few lines in the film, his devotion, his jealousy of Myrna Loy, his scene in the fairground, his looks at Gable, and most of all, the way certain scenes are framed, with Tracy next to Loy when she's opening her heart to Gable. He's doing the same, except silently. Pity that Gable's character is so undeserving of the love the other two shower on him. I am wondering if this was Victor Fleming's intention. If it was, then my hat is off to him.

It is hard to tell if the script is at fault, or if it just fell flat in shooting and post-production. It doesn't seem to be any better or any worst than many others of the period. However, classic Hollywood was very similar at times to the modern one. It was a factory of films that believed that if you added all ingredients together you would make a great film. Then, as now, they forgot that a good film is more than the sum of its parts and its stars. And that's why "Test Pilot" fails. It has too many personalities and no personality.

Lady Frederick (1907)

2007-08-19T01:24:00.002+01:00

This is the first of a couple of posts I intent to make on the subject of Somerset Maugham's plays that I am reading/re-reading after having abandoned a couple of books. I can' t say I have discovered new favourites, but "Lady Frederick" was a pleasant surprise. It was funny, clever, and kept me interested - something that its successor in volume one of the collected plays had not. A drawing-room comedy about money (or rather the lack of it) and a few marriages. Far less stylised than Oscar Wilde's, it keeps to the tradition and although less funny more is more real and interesting. To me, it's only drawback is the portrait of Captain Montgomerie, probably quite acceptable then but uncomfortably anti-semitic nowadays.

Originally performed in 1907, it catapulted the author to amazing heights - he became the first living playwright to have four plays simultaneously in the West End (Noël Coward would match that in the mid-twenties). Perhaps it remains known today only (and rather unjustly) because of the amazing scene in the beginning of the third act where Lady Frederick appears without make-up before a young man who is in love with her. Every actress of the day refused to play it because of it. Today I imagine that most actress would sink their teeth in it, but then again it might still be too raw.

I would love to get a chance to see this in London. Strangest things have happened, and as far as I know the recent revival of "The Letter" was fairly successful. Meanwhile, I would recommend it to anyone who has had an introduction to Mr Maugham.

The Importance of Being Earnest

2008-02-26T20:30:00.005Z

On saturday went with a friend to the theatre. She was visiting London and we had arranged to see Oscar Wilde's Earnest at the Vaudeville Theatre. We are both fans of the play, and I am quite a big fan of Penelope Keith and after the BBC new version of "Sense and Sensibility" I can say the same about Daisy Haggard. Despite all this nothing had prepared us for such a great night out... in one word it was perfect!

Peter Gill's production (the fourth I saw of his) was spot on, playing the artificial of the play as if it was natural, magnificently suggesting a gay subtext but without damaging the core of the text. All actors were stupendous - even Miss Prism and the reverend, which I can't stand as characters, were charming and engaging. The actors playing Jack and Algernon were very funny, aided by the fact that they could indeed be brothers and had great chemistry together. Penelope Keith was fantastic and the more I see her doing comedy, the more I want to see her "Amanda" from the BBC production of "Private Lives" (pity she said no more Coward until "Waiting in the Wings"). But the star was Gwendoleen - and the best line was the excited "Jack" she utters when Jack as Ernest asks her what she thinks of the name. Her reaction was priceless.

I might just see this again... it really was marvellous.

The Circle

2008-10-08T17:10:00.005+01:00

A year ago I wished for an opportunity to see Somerset Maugham’s The Circle on the stage and my wish came true last week. I had to go to Richmond during the evening rush hour (there are definitely better Tube lines at rush hour than the District Line) to see it, but I did.

I really like Somerset Maugham. He is unsentimental and cynic, but he can be incredibly funny and touching. “The Circle”, arguably the best of his comedies along with "The Constant Wife", is a play of history repeating itself. After deserting her husband and child 30 years prior for her husband’s best friend, Lady Kitty, played by Susan Hampshire in the version I saw, returns to her old home (with said lover) to finally meet her son. However, her daughter-in-law is also planning to run away with one of the house guests.

The whole play only makes sense in a time where divorce was something hard to get, but still says a lot about loveless love affairs. While Lady Kitty’s husband divorced her quickly, her lover’s wife didn’t so they couldn’t get married and had to spend 30 years in exile, swallowing infidelities and committing some, growing indifferent and in her case, fearing that he would leave her and she would have no means to support herself. Above all seeing each other never truly forgiving the other for the sacrifices they made in the name of a love that has long disappeared – as Lady Kitty says to her ex-husband, if she had her time again, she would have been unfaithful but would have never ran away.

The production I saw was a good one. The performances, mostly by actors I have seen at some stage or another on the small screen, were excellent and it made me sad that such a good production with some good reviews is highly unlikely to make it to the West End.

On Cukor

2009-05-18T15:50:00.004+01:00

On Saturday, while walking around London and visiting a couple of bookshops I stumbled across a book about George Cukor. It was discounted and I was expecting a coffee table book full of pretty photographs of "My Fair Lady", Judy Holliday and Katharine Hepburn. What I found was a 2000 revised edition of an interview book from the 1970s, in a similar vein of those made by Truffaut and Cameron Crowe on Hitchcock and Billy Wilder. I never even knew such thing existed. Of course, it is now in my shelves, and of the large chunks I have read, it’s brilliant. I strongly recommend it, but beware it’s officially OOP.

George Cukor (1899-1983) was one of the first directors I knew by name, along with Hitchcock and Vincente Minnelli. I was terribly disappointed to miss in 1997 a retrospective of his work at the Portuguese Cinematheque, simply because I was living quite far off and transport links made it nearly impossible to go. I remember I was particularly sad to miss “The Philadelphia Story”. For a while, he was my favourite director. Funnily enough, it was that film that made me change my mind. It never really lived to the hype.

Before “The Philadelphia Story”, I had seen “Camille” (which is absolutely wonderful and probably my favourite of his films) and probably “My Fair Lady”, “Adam’s Rib”, “What Price Hollywood?” (which to this day I regret not having recorded), “Gaslight” and “A Double Life”. All of which I had liked very much, especially the first three. But I don’t know why the bitter disappointment of the Katharine Hepburn vehicle was too much. And then for a while all the films I saw, including some already on DVD were disappointments (“The Women”, “Sylvia Scarlett”, “A Star is Born” and most significantly, most things with Judy Holliday).

But I have changed my opinion of him a bit in the passing years. Especially when I finally got to see a retrospective of his work, this time in London, shortly I moved here in late 2004. And what first stroke me was how underrated his “minor” films were. Up to that point, pretty much all of the titles I had seen of his were his “major” works. And suddenly, here I was in love with “Keeper of the Flame”, “Edward, my son”, “Bhowani Junction”, “Our Betters”. More than that, “Susan and God” and especially “A Woman’s Face” really introduced me to Joan Crawford, just before several of her films made it into DVD. It made me more aware that Time, while usually a good judge, may occasionally let a few things slip through the cracks.