Olivia is 100

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Maureen O'Hara (1920-2015)

She had the reddest hair in Hollywood, often shot in gorgeous Technicolor, and I think I was aware of her since I saw "Against All Flags" as a very young boy. She was fun to watch. Other films only reinforced that: "The Quiet Man" (which I caught a glimpse of a few hours her death was announced), "The Parent Trap", "The Black Swan". Fiery and funny, she conquered her place in my love of film.

While I didn't like "How Green Was My Valley" (nor do I want to revisit it any time soon), she was also great in a minor Nicholas Ray "A Woman's Secret" with Melvyn Douglas and Gloria Grahame and "Our Man in Havana".

I don't think I have seen as many of her films as I thought I have (the above, "The Spanish Main", "Miracle on 34th Street", "The Hutchback of Notre Dame"). But in all of those she was unforgettable.

She never got an Oscar nomination but finally got a Life Achievement Award last year - aged 94. I am glad she got it on time.

Lauren Bacall (1924-2014)

She was discovered by Hawks, met Bogart and became a legend. And that was only her first film.

But a 70 year career is often reduced to four years and four films made at its very beginning  is over simplistic (actually, usually only two or three - no one ever remembers "Dark Passage", sometimes probably not even "Key Largo"). As is to focus on her status as a fashion icon, on "The Look" or her looks (and by the way, she still looked amazing in her last public appearances). Bacall was much more interesting both off and on screen. I will focus on the second. This was a woman that worked both in Hollywood's Golden Age and in 21st Century arthouse. She was directed by Hawks, Minnelli and Sirk. But she was also directed by Lars von Trier and Jonathan Glazer.

And while an icon of Hollywood, she did surprisingly little film work during the Golden Age, just over a dozen films between 1944 and 1960. But she certainly knew how to pick them. In the early 1950s she played a lesbian in Curtiz's "Young Man with a Horn"(*), stealing the film from under Kirk Douglas and Doris Day's feet, and a romantic gold digger in the Cinemascope delight that is "How to Marry a Millionaire". As the decade moved on, she starrred in "Written in the Wind" for Sirk and "The Cobweb" and "Designing Woman" for Minnelli. The latter is one of her most memorable performances, in a opposites attract romantic comedy with Gregory Peck. She also played Elvira in a rarely seen TV adaptation of Noël Coward's "Blithe Spirit".

For the next couple of decades she worked on television and theatre and her film work was in waves, but included a supporting role in a guilty pleasure of mine ("Sex and the Single Girl"), the leading lady in John Wayne's last film and a scene stealing performance in "Murder in the Orient Express".

In 1996, she ran away with "The Mirror Has Two Faces", her only Oscar nomination (which she lost unexpectedly to Juliette Binoche). In 2009, she finally got an special achievement award - but  then she got the limelight slightly stolen, as it was the first year where special Oscars were presented separately.

Yes, she taught Bogart how to whistle, but she did so much more than that.

(*) Until her death, "Young Man with a Horn" was likely to have been the oldest film with all leads still alive.

Mickey Rooney (1920-2014)

The second most famous child actor of the 1930s and one of the most memorable presences in film. My favourite role is as the young Clark Gable in "Manhattan Melodrama". But that is, of course, just the tip of the iceberg.

Funny Face (1957)

Audrey Hepburn's male partners are a good case study for Hollywood sexism and ageism. In the 1950s and 1960s, she was often paired with older men, some old enough to be her father (Bogart, Cooper, Astaire, Fonda and Cary Grant - although he was in a category of his own). While we are expected that this bright, gorgeous creature could fall in love with older men; older women often had to suffer if they dared wishing to be interested in virile young men. This is one of the more extreme cases in this series - at some stage Astaire actually says that he doesn't care for her intellect. In the same vein, there is a scene where domestic violence turns rebellious women into devoted ones (this is set in France, so it could be aimed at French women). In fact, faced with Astaire's irrestitible charm, she abandons all intellectual preocupations for love.

Stanley Donen directed "Funny Face", which tells the story of a pretty young girl with intellectual ambitions that accepts a job as a modelling job in Paris so she can meet her favourite philosopher. Recycling Gershwin songs, it really intended to cash on Audrey Hepburn's stardom.

The satire has dated badly (the intellectual circles, the philosopher more interested in more material pursuits), and the romantic bits are over the top (the swans and the barge are really good examples). Hepburn is beautifully photographed (and the new restoration looks impeccable) and murders a few Gershwin songs (particularly "How long has this been going on?") but she has nothing else to do other than showing pretty clothes - although she does it well, creating an iconic image in the Louvre sequence. As for Astaire, all he does is repeat all he had spent the previous two and half decades doing. And while it's fun to see Paris in the 1950s (and how little the city centre has changed) and Givenchy and Edith Head get to show off their talent as designers, I fear this one is for hardcore Audrey fans only.

The sole redeeming feture of the film is Kay Thompson who gets the best number ("Think Pink!") and lightens up the others she appears. Oh, and Audrey's photographs within the film are very good indeed.

Juanita Moore (1922-2014)

Oscar nominated for "Imitation for Life", I recently saw one of her (uncredited) performances in "A Child is Waiting".

A fine actress, whose skin colour prevented her go as far as her talent would have let her.

PS - She may have been born in 1914, but that date seems to have been mentioned only in obituaries.

Joan Fontaine (1917-2013)

Joan Fontaine was one of the last true stars from classic Hollywood left. From memory, and excluding child stars (e.g. Shirley Temple and Mickey Rooney), the only ones left are Fontaine's sister, Olivia de Havilland, Maureen O'Hara, Angela Lansbury and Luise Rainer. (EDIT: As Judy mentioned in the comments, I forgot a few: Lauren Bacall, Kirk Douglas, Sidney Poitier and Doris Day.)

While her career dwindled after the mid-1960s, she left, mostly in the 1940s, a strong string of performances for which she is deservedly remembered. She went from minor role into minor role (most of which I don't think I have ever seen) in the 1930s until Cukor's "The Women" which was followed by her breakout and unforgettable performance as the second Mrs DeWinter in Hitchcock's "Rebecca". This film brought her recognition but also typecasted her as the suffering virginal damsel. She did this very well in the 1940s, in films that I love - "Suspicion", Ophüls' "Letter from an Unknown Woman" - and films that I don't  - "Jane Eyre", "The Constant Nymph". The one exception was "Frenchman's Creek", where (to quote my post) she was "not the Joan Fontaine Hitchcock and Ophüls showed the world, [she was] something else. Something much, much sexier." If I have to chose one performance other than "Rebecca" this would be it.

As the 1940s turned into the 1950s, despite an unforgettable performance in the Ophüls film, she found her limelight stolen by dogs (in Wilder's "The Emperor Waltz") or younger actresses (such as Elizabeth Taylor in "Ivanhoe"). She also did very well in a couple of darker roles, for instance in Nicholas Ray's "Born to Be Bad" (she makes the film watchable on her own) and more ambiguously in Lang's "Beyond a Reasonable Doubt". After that her roles became fewer and far between.

She got an Oscar for "Suspicion", which really should have been for "Rebecca"  (she lost to Ginger Rogers), making it the only performance in a Hitchcock film to win the award.  She was also nominated for "The Constant Nymph", which I find beyond my understanding.

Note: I have added a proper text to this post, which I didn't have a chance when the news first broke.

My thoughts on "The Constant Nymph" and "Frenchman's Creek".

Eleanor Parker (1922-2013)

I don't think I have seen that many of her films. Of course, the ubiquitous "The Sound of Music". Minnelli's "Home from the Hill". "Caged", the film that made her and for which she got her first Oscar nomination. And of course, "Scaramouche", in which she is absolutely wonderful. That red hair of hers in three-strip Technicolor is unforgetable.

The Deep Blue Sea (1955)

There are some films that are lost without being so: films that have no home video release and are only screened very rarely. One of these is Anatole Litvak’s adaptation of Rattigan’s “The Deep Blue Sea” starring Vivien Leigh. Fortunately, the BFI decided to include it as part of the actress’ centenary season. It is telling that the original two screenings sold out very quickly and a third one was added. More worryingly, was the fact that the BFI only managed to locate one copy (of variable quality).

The film, like the play, is set during a day, after Hester Collyer (Leigh) is found after a failed suicide attempt. Ten months before the play starts, she abandoned her husband for Freddie, a younger man, and now is confronted with the eminent ending of that relationship as well.

The play is compelling and does wonders with the claustrophobia of the space, and the compression of time, but is designed as a play. A cinematographic adaptation will never be easy – you keep the play closed, and it’s not very film-like; or you open it up, which can tear the play’s fabric apart. The TV adaptation with Penelope Wilton and Colin Firth falls in the first category, while the 2011 film with Rachel Weisz went in the second (or at least the 20 minutes or so, I lasted watching it). However, this film fared better, partly because Rattigan wrote it himself. So instead of fabricating a whole story of an unhappy marriage (as in the 2011 version, which created a horrible mother in law), he kept the flashbacks to key moments during Hester’s affair, and all prior her leaving husband. He also added/developed a few supporting characters, although I wasn’t entirely convinced he pulled it off.

More disappointingly, at least to me, the film lacked the lust between the characters that I saw in the 2008 revival. This is a key plot point. After all, Hester doesn’t run away with Freddie for a companionship of minds. Repressed all her life, she finally found a way to escape her social chains. I understand that censorship was tighter on film (see the moralising tagline), this absence makes the affair more doomed and less understandable that it should be.

The contemporary reviews praised Kenneth More for his portrayal of Freddie. I wasn’t particularly impressed. I assume his casting was due to having originated the part on stage. But Freddie is supposed to be good looking, or at least extremely charming (Colin Firth was a much better cast). More was too old, lacking on screen the sex appeal he might have projected on stage.

On the other hand, Leigh was very good, much better than I expected. I liked the control in her voice (so unlike Blanche DuBois, much closer to her younger self), and the occasional fire she allowed her character to release. There was a close-up towards the end that Litvak might have borrowed from “Gone with the Wind” and felt a bit out of place.

Angela Lansbury's Oscar

She was nominated three times, for "Gaslight", "The Picture of Dorian Gray" and "The Manchurian Candidate". She should have got it for the latter.

But at long last, she finally got an Oscar.

Julie Harris (1925–2013)

For "East of Eden"...

La Ronde (1950)

After a few years in Hollywood, Max Ophüls returned to Europe and directed "La Ronde". I saw it for the first time in early 2006 in a screening at the Portuguese Cinematheque. I didn't like it at all despite I loving (some) Ophüls. But as I watched it again last night, I was much more in tune with it, and think my previous judgement was too harsh. I really like it. Yet, I still don't love it.

Plot-wise, the film relates the encounters (mostly sexual) between five women and five men, with one of them passing on to the next encounter (thus creating the circle) under the supervising eye of Anton Walbrook, who comments and guides the action, breaking the fourth wall and even cutting the action at moments.Two non-sexual encounters, one at the middle (where a married couple doesn't do together what they do with others) and one at the end (where two of the men cross each other in the street) elegantly provide the axis of symmetry and closure of the circle.

The film, although beautifully symmetric in is construction, as you'd expect from a film called "La Ronde" (which could be translated as  "The Circle"), is to me at least, too uneven in its balance. My issue with the film, and possibly the reason I disliked it so much before, is that the first half is so much better than the second. The first half up to the middle scene between the couple, is full of light touches and wit. In particular, the scene between the maid and the young man is a delight, with him playing the game so clumsily that it can't help endearing him to you. The following scene, with the young man again, and the married woman (played by the wonderful Danielle Darrieux)  is almost as good and has one the wittiest moment of the film, which i won't spoil.

The second half by contrast, lacks this wit and light touch and feels rushed when it shouldn't (the episodes with the count played by Gérard Philipe and the second with the poet) and drags when it shouldn't (the first episode with the poet). One of the consequences of this, is that the performances seem weaker in the second part and the characters not properly developed (the count and the actress in particular) . There's also less interaction of Walbrook with the female characters than earlier on, which he had done so well with Simone Signoret and Simone Simon. I really feel something is missing in what should have been a perfect circle. I understand that there is a longer version of the film which may solve this, but as at the moment it seems to be hidden from view. It might be that this version will be the one that makes me love this film.

The film's cast is a veritable who's who of European actors, mostly French, of the time (the ones I mentioned plus Isa Miranda, and Jean-Louis Barrault, from "Les Enfants du Paradis"). But my favourite has to be Daniel Gélinas the young man, bringing a keen embarrassing to the role that you can't help but relate to. It got two Oscar nominations, for best art direction and best screenplay co-written by Ophüls himself.

Celeste Holm (1917 - 2012)

Celeste Holm's presence in films is summarised by some random things from 1950 (of which the most famous is the unbearable "High Society") and her years in the late 1940s when she was a contract player at Fox. In five years (always as a supporting actress), she got an Oscar (for "Gentleman's Agreement"), two other nominations (one of which for "All About Eve") and appeared in films like "The Snake Pit". Then she went back to New York and work on stage and on TV.

Interestingly, her most delightful performance is one where she doesn't appear on screen - uncredited as the voice of Addie Ross, the husband stealer in "A Letter to Three Wives". Jeanne Crain, Linda Darnell and Ann Sothern had nothing on her.

Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Animation is something I quite enjoy and I probably should have included something here sometime ago. The Disney 50 season that the BFI is showing throughout the year was meant to act as a catalyst and “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” was meant to be the first post back. Unfortunately, time and motivation (and even subject matter) have been lacking in the last few months, often all at the same time and thus the blog has been a bit less active that it should have. So, instead of having the first animated feature film, I decided to have one of my favourites, “Sleeping Beauty”.

I am perfectly aware that this film is dismissed by some as inferior to “Snow White…” and “Cinderella” or simply described as an honourable failure. I have always disagreed and after watching all three in a short period of time, I still prefer it. The gender politics of “Snow White…” are a bit too 1930s for my taste and “Cinderella”, despite a certain amount of sarcasm from the heroine, drags a bit too much at times, particularly in the ball sequence, or those with the king. "Sleeping Beauty" on the other hand has a much better pace, particularly in the second half, from the moment where the fairies and the princess return to the castle - people talk about Bambi's mother, but my biggest childhood Disney-induced trauma was probably Malificent's movement of the robe to reveal the sleeping Aurora. The battle sequences are great cinema and still very effective, even if they used the rotoscope a tad too obviously, and I am also a bit partial to the stylized look of the film, inspired by medieaval art.

Of course, "Sleeping Beauty" doesn't appear out of nowhere in the Disney cannon - the fairies are indeed not so distant relatives to the dwarfs in "Snow White..." and like them work wonderfully as comic reliefs; there are a lot of irritating dancing animals (who ever found these cute?); Aurora is not exactly a feminist role model and although not as bad as Snow White, Cinderella had more personality. And then there's Malificent - that astonishing character that runs away with the film. It is this character that beats both films - she's both deadlier and sharper than the Evil Queen or Lady Tremaine (the same actress voices Malificent). She oozes sarcasm throughout the film - my favourite is the description of what she'll do to Prince Phillip and how she'll release him... eventually...
But it's interesting as well, that while drawing from both these films, it was to "Sleeping Beauty" that the Disney animators paid homage in the late 1980s, early 1990s when of the Disney renaissance: in "The Little Mermaid", the final confrontation between Ursula and Eric and Ariel has some echos of the battle and the final sequence in "Beauty and the Beast" is clearly inspired by the ending of this film.

Elizabeth Taylor (1932-2011)

She was never a personal favourite and after “Cleopatra” she developed a style of acting that consisted mostly of shouting around (“Boom” being a case in point). She denied Shirley MacLaine a much deserved Oscar for “The Apartment”, although she fully deserved her humanitarian award for raising awareness for AIDS before it was fashionable.

Yet, for “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”, “Suddenly, Last Summer” and “Cleopatra” she has a place in my affections.

And in “A Place in the Sun” and pretty much every film she made in the 1950s she was one of the most beautiful women ever to grace the silver screen.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957)

I started Frank Tashlin's "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?" hesitantly. I finished it bitterly disappointed. In between, I laughed a lot. So what went wrong? Well, my initial reaction is very easy to explain - Frank Tashlin. As a Looney Tunes' director he was never my favourite and I didn't care much for "The Girl Can't Help It" when I watched it a few years ago, albeit some good cartoony moments. I just never warmed to it. Since it starts the same leading lady (Jayne Mansfield) and a similar leading man (Tony Randall here; Tom Ewell in "The Girl...") I hope you can see where I was standing.
"Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?" was a different kettle of fish. It was funny from the start, smart, mixing effortlessly George Axelrod witticism (the film is based on his play) with Tashlin's visual humour. A satire on television, celebrity and the film and advertising industries that hasn't lost its bite and gelled perfectly with my sense of humour. Of course some of the gags are better if you know the context - the intermission Tony Randall presents is a delight, but becomes extra caustic if you realise in 1957 film was loosing the war to television - plus is Rita Marlowe (Mansfield's character) that much different from the current flavour of the moment? True, some now need strange outfits instead of "oh so kissable lips", but it's the same thing.

The film benefits from the great cast: a perfectly cast Tony Randall (his career was mainly on US TV before I was born and therefore unknown to me); the ever magnificent Joan Blondell, who should have appeared more; Hitchcock's favourite John Williams as the stiff head of the advertising agency and Betsy Drake as the jilted (and jealous) girlfriend. I was less convinced by Jayne Mansfield. True, the part doesn't demand that much of her, but take Marilyn in "The Seven Year Itch" (adapted from another Axelrod play) and see what the part required. Both are blond objects of desire placed within reach of an average man. But Marilyn had a stupendous comic timing and Mansfield not so. The scenes with Randall when she aims to seduce him are too long and feel like a distraction from the really good bits of the film. Still, she manages not produce any major damage.

The great disappointment is the ending (Grouch Marx's cameo aside) or rather the long ellipse that omits how everyone ended as they did (the actual ending was fine). It thought it lazy and that Tashlin (who wrote the script) had finally ran out of ideas. I felt denied the climax the film had been building to, where all the pairs would be rearranged and the natural order of things would be restored. A real pity, considering how smoothly everything went till then.

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman (1951)

A while back I mentioned an example of a comedy that tried too hard to be funny. This time I will be talking about a film that tries to hard to be profound and have meaning. Needless to say, it fails. The film is opus 4 (of 6) in Albert Lewin's career as a director and is an updated/reinterpretation of the story of the Flying Dutchman, where the captain of the ship condemned to wonder alone through the seas unless he finds a woman to break his curse. It stars Ava Gardner and James Mason.

The film is highly regarded by some, in particular for Jack Cardiff's cinematography. This is indeed the most interesting point of the film, as Cardiff makes it look unlike any other Technicolor film - a talent I like, but sadly in this case from a purely intellectual point of view, as I didn't like the colour palette which looked too much like watercolour over a black and white image. There is a sequence towards the end, in James Mason's room that I quite liked, with the game of light and shadows. I also didn't entirely dislike James Mason's performance, although finding it amusing that he (as a Dutch character) has a flawless, perfect, posh English accent, which is Mason's own. By the way, I would like to know if it was just me, but does he get dubbed over his narration? I'd swear that at some point, the voice-over changes.

But here finish the points of interest... and at 2h what remains is a very long, over baked, flavourless film. The problems start with cast. James Mason aside, it was a bore to watch. Ava Gardner seldom could act and she didn't here, failing to give the character the heart she conquers by the end of the film. Also her voice got on my nerves, silky sexy but so hollow. The rest of the cast is as forgetful as is dull, but I got the impression that Lewin wanted to cast George Sanders as the archaeologist and failing to do so got a look-a-like. Also, Spain seems to be full of gypsies rather than Spaniards. Is this to add to the mystic element? Several key moments have Spanish only dialogue (the reading the cards scene in particular), not subtitled, which I could understand enough to follow, but is frustrating if you can't at least follow some of it. Also, I was left wondering which language were the fishermen speaking in the first scene, as it didn't sound like Spanish to me. Galician? My guess, as the pronunciation of words was very similar to Portuguese.

Worst of all is the dialogue - it's so stylised and artificial it pained me. Full of quotes and self-references, aided by visual metaphors (Ava Garner's almost sexual reaction after the car is thrown off the cliff), in case you missed the point, it hasn't dated very well. The whole story is moved forward by characters who have forebodings, predictions, read cards, quote ancient Greeks and live in a world of perpetual coincidences (or fate aligning, whichever you prefer). That was the intention, but the result is that it becomes unintentionally funny. You would have to be a genius to pull it off. Watching it at the BFI, several people were giggling or laughing in the silliest moments (and they all looked like respectable film fans by the way) and so did I.

Richard Brooks' Tennessee Williams I: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Richard Brooks’ two adaptations of Tennessee Williams’ plays are often vilified because of their cop-out endings that distorted the playwright’s work. This needs to be put slightly in context. Williams’ work was created for the stage which had (and still has) far more freedom than film or even TV. His plays treat uncomfortable themes and are populated with characters on the verge of the precipice. His themes (mental illness, homosexuality, sexual freedom, the South) were unlikely to pass any film adaptation untouched.

“Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” was the first of the two, the second being "Sweet Bird of Youth". Originally performed in 1955 on Broadway with Barbara Bel Gueddes and Ben Gazzara, it was transformed by MGM into a vehicle to one of their brightest stars, Elizabeth Taylor. Her co-star was a rising Paul Newman. Burl Ives reprised his role as Big Daddy and Judith Anderson, Jack Carson and Madeleine Sherwood (also from the stage version) rounded the cast. All of them the standard to which I compare any cast whenever I have seen the play (which I have twice). Taylor oozes sexuality and her desire to resume sexual relations with her husband is present in her every look – it probably didn't hurt that Paul Newman was quite good looking. She also has the cattiness that the role requires, that need to fight her corner to the last breath which is the essence of her character. Paul Newman’s stillness and indifference in the first two acts of the film is pretty much how I see the character, which of course, is a very personal matter. Both were nominated for Oscars but lost to David Niven and Susan Hayward (who also beat Deborah Kerr, Shirley MacLaine and Rosalind Russell).

Judith Anderson proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was an excellent actress the moment I saw her scaring Joan Fontaine in “Rebecca”, and here, in the final scenes in the library and before, when she hears Burl Ives telling her how much he can’t stand her, she shows it again and again. You might not notice it’s Mrs Danvers (or Judith Anderson if you prefer), but I dare you to forget her. As you won’t Madeleine Sherwood, a viper personified, the ever-pregnant wife of Jack Carson. Carson made a career out of sleazy types and this is probably one of his best after his amazing performance in “A Star is Born”. Sherwood is an actress that has always fascinated me because of this film. She is so malicious and yet she manages to keep it real, which is quite hard – the balance is incredibly delicate. The other only film where I am aware of having seen her is “Sweet Bird of Youth”. But the great tour-de-force is Burl Ives. He’s perfect. Unforgettable. His disdain for his grandchildren made clear with one look; his passion for life written all over his face. He is the character and perhaps the greatest merit of the film is that he has a lot more screen time than in some of the versions of the play text.

The there were two obvious points of contention when adapting it. One was Maggie’s adultery. Saint Liz couldn’t be an adulteress and get away with it: not only that was not allowed by the Hays Code, but the audience wouldn’t forgive it. Probably for the same reason Taylor toned down in her performance her thirst for money, not so much by cutting words but by subduing them. So that was relatively easy to sort – and in fact its impact in the narrative might have been minor if not for the second issue: the references to homosexuality (both Skippy’s and Brick’s). Throughout the first and second act of the film (which coincide with the play’s and end with Brick’s conversation in the rain with Big Daddy) the film is as faithful to the play as possible – Brick is a hopeless drunk haunted by the death of his best friend. For a modern audience watching the film, there are clear hints that Skippy was in love with Brick, the clearest one comes from Maggie herself when she describes the moment when she almost seduced Skippy to get her husband back. She says something like Skippy had the same thought, i.e. if he sleeps with Maggie he can present her to Brick as adulteress have and conquer him back. This has the additional “advantage” of presenting the absent gay character as an opportunistic monster determined to taint the heroine. But the guilt ridden Brick has been cleansed. He really wants his wife, only he has yet to forgive her, and when he locks himself in the bathroom after an argument he caresses her nightgown. Still, it’s hard to swallow his description of great bond with his dead friend as just friendship. Brick is closeted, and will stay so as he is unable to deal with his feelings. So far, so Williams. But then the twist comes. The third act of the play is problematic and there are at least two versions of it. The film retains some of the key issues and dialogue (Gooper and Mae’s confrontation with Big Mama in the library), however, Brick’s character suddenly changes personality, no longer guilt ridden, no longer an alcoholic, he makes peace with his family and guide us to the most frustrating of endings. And this is not because it’s not the play’s ending but because it’s no longer the same character. The rain has operated a miracle, or maybe Liz’s curves did it. Either way, watching the film again, a couple of months after seeing it on stage, made me like it less than I did before. And sadly, I don’t think I will ever like it as much.

PS – I saw it at the BFI in the most disappointing of prints… surely they can afford to get a new one for such a popular title. The colours were off; the image was often not in focus, a bit of a mess really. For that I might as well stay at home and watch the DVD.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)

I'm sure there was a time before I saw Howard Hawks' "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" but to be honest I don't remember. I also have no idea how many times have I seen it, but each time it gets better and better - and I just got the chance to see it where it belongs, on the big screen, in a beautiful print.

The film follows two friends travelling from New York to Paris on a ship and their love lives tangling and untangling at the sound of some great songs and the help of a diamond tiara. One of the friends is Lorelei Lee, a blonde keen to marry for money and the other is Dorothy Shaw, a brunette keen to marry for love. The film stars Marilyn Monroe as Lorelei, Jane Russell as Dorothy and Charles Coburn and the supporting cast includes the delightful Norma Varden as Coburn's wife (the queen of obnoxious women on screen). These latter two are key in helping setting the comedic tone of the film. Norma Varden's obsession with diamonds made me think that she might have been a Lorelei herself in younger days. Coburn gives one of his most memorable performances and certainly the one I remember him for (well, that and the one in "The Lady Eve"). Another cast member that deserves some mention is the young kid, George Wilson. One of those wise beyond his years sort of kid, he's clearly directed to be as innocent and yet as keen on Marilyn as all the others. It's a credit to both him and Hawks that he succeeds.

Watching Jane Russell I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for her. She's very good and she was the main star at the time of filming (doubt me? She's top billed over Marilyn). She's funny and energetic, delivering some of the best lines of the film, as when she turns to the recently engaged Lorelei and tells her she doubts her future father-in-law would let her commit matrimony with her son. She particularly shines when she's imitating Marilyn in the court scene or in the gym number when she's surrounded by many semi-naked men who seem to have no interest whatsoever in her. But does anyone really remembers her here? Marilyn runs away with the film. It's one of her best performances, and I would say the template for the dumb blonde who turns out not to be as dumb as all that. She's funny, sexy and far clever than anyone but her friend gives her credit for. She has some delicious moments, when she predicts exactly to the minute how long she needs with a man to get from him what she wants or how she blackmails the head waiter to seat a particular gentleman on her dinner table. But the best is the excellent "Diamonds are a girl's best friend". She's so at ease, so perfect, and finishes by provoking her former fiancee (poor thing, never really got a chance...). Actually, his reaction before the show made me think that there might be more than meets the eye, and that perhaps this is a coded striptease number, like the one in "Gilda".

The film is now approaching 60 and despite being hardly unknown, it deserves some reassessment. It's pure joy and it feels much younger than its years. Like the men in the film, you can't take your eyes away from the "two little girls from Little Rock".

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

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".