Showing posts with label Olivia de Havilland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olivia de Havilland. Show all posts
Friday, 1 July 2016
Sunday, 17 June 2012
Government Girl (1943)
According to IMDb's trivia section on this film, Olivia de Havilland, its star, hated the film. Whether this is true or not, I can't say. But I certainly wouldn't blame her. This is a poorly scripted, poorly cast, poorly directed romantic comedy. If she didn't boycott her own performance on purpose (as suggested) then this is even worst that I thought.
A bit of context here - de Havilland in the early 1940s was still under contract to Warner Bros. Her star had been rising since 1935 and "Captain Blood", but with "Gone with the Wind" in 1939 and "Hold Back the Dawn" in 1941, both loans elsewhere, she finally got some respect from the studio. So she got better parts, for instance in "The Strawberry Blond" and the good sister in "In This Our Life". Then they loaned her to Selznick, who in turn loaned her to RKO for this tripe. It must clearly have felt as demotion/punishment and probably weighted heavily in her landmark decision to sue the studio the following year.
The film basically concerns a secretary falling in love with her boss. This has been done before many times over, and sometimes well. This is clearly not one of them - the characters are one dimensional, and there are way too many plot lines that either get nowhere or are just filling (the first act of the film is completely filling, concerning the lack of a room for de Havilland's roommate to consummate her wedding). Of course it doesn't help that the whole cast is not bothered (de Havilland), has underwritten parts (Agnes Moorehead), or is just terrible (pretty much everyone else, except Harry Davenport doing one of his wise old men which he did with his eyes closed). The leading man (Sonny Tufts) and the second banana (Jess Barker) are particularly dull. As all this suggests, the film isn't funny. (What was it with the shoes?!) It also managed to produce in me a complete indifference to the fate of all characters, despite the extremely predictability of the ending.
The only interesting points were the opening details where we can see all the women pursuing the (very few) available men and the gimmick with "Heloise and Abelard" showing both characters had a romantic side. This would have been much better though had they been properly presented as having "efficient" and workahoolic facade.
All in all, this is a good example of how routine Hollywood studios could be, even to the war effort message: boy meets girl, girl thinks she's in love with second banana; boy is ideallistic but has excellent idea to help the war effort; girl helps him; second banana turns out to be not as nice as we thought, etc, etc. You get the picture. I think today people forget that they really were assembly lines and/or don't realise the true meaning of B-film (or in this case a few letters down the alphabet, even if it's meant, I assume an A one...). In case they need to be reminded, this a good example: flat, dull and uninspired, and a waste of a excellent actress.
PS - the Hitler and Hirohito caricatures on Ed Browne's office are supposed to be his? Cause if they are they should have told the (excellent) artist not to sign it...
PPS - Some of the other posters for this film are worth looking at for the crass, tasteless and misogynistic taglines: "Manpower shortage? Not for this girl friday"; "When the men are ONE to TEN... a gal's gotta be good" - oh, and neither reflect the film...
A bit of context here - de Havilland in the early 1940s was still under contract to Warner Bros. Her star had been rising since 1935 and "Captain Blood", but with "Gone with the Wind" in 1939 and "Hold Back the Dawn" in 1941, both loans elsewhere, she finally got some respect from the studio. So she got better parts, for instance in "The Strawberry Blond" and the good sister in "In This Our Life". Then they loaned her to Selznick, who in turn loaned her to RKO for this tripe. It must clearly have felt as demotion/punishment and probably weighted heavily in her landmark decision to sue the studio the following year.
The film basically concerns a secretary falling in love with her boss. This has been done before many times over, and sometimes well. This is clearly not one of them - the characters are one dimensional, and there are way too many plot lines that either get nowhere or are just filling (the first act of the film is completely filling, concerning the lack of a room for de Havilland's roommate to consummate her wedding). Of course it doesn't help that the whole cast is not bothered (de Havilland), has underwritten parts (Agnes Moorehead), or is just terrible (pretty much everyone else, except Harry Davenport doing one of his wise old men which he did with his eyes closed). The leading man (Sonny Tufts) and the second banana (Jess Barker) are particularly dull. As all this suggests, the film isn't funny. (What was it with the shoes?!) It also managed to produce in me a complete indifference to the fate of all characters, despite the extremely predictability of the ending.The only interesting points were the opening details where we can see all the women pursuing the (very few) available men and the gimmick with "Heloise and Abelard" showing both characters had a romantic side. This would have been much better though had they been properly presented as having "efficient" and workahoolic facade.
All in all, this is a good example of how routine Hollywood studios could be, even to the war effort message: boy meets girl, girl thinks she's in love with second banana; boy is ideallistic but has excellent idea to help the war effort; girl helps him; second banana turns out to be not as nice as we thought, etc, etc. You get the picture. I think today people forget that they really were assembly lines and/or don't realise the true meaning of B-film (or in this case a few letters down the alphabet, even if it's meant, I assume an A one...). In case they need to be reminded, this a good example: flat, dull and uninspired, and a waste of a excellent actress.
PS - the Hitler and Hirohito caricatures on Ed Browne's office are supposed to be his? Cause if they are they should have told the (excellent) artist not to sign it...
PPS - Some of the other posters for this film are worth looking at for the crass, tasteless and misogynistic taglines: "Manpower shortage? Not for this girl friday"; "When the men are ONE to TEN... a gal's gotta be good" - oh, and neither reflect the film...
Monday, 30 November 2009
Mitchell Leisen/Olivia de Havilland on DVD (R2)
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.
PS - Mine!
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.PS - Mine!
Friday, 13 November 2009
To Each His Own (1946)
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.
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.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Bette Davis, 1937
Bette Davis had four films opening in 1937. They are of unequal quality, contrasting massively with her consistent output over the next few years. In the first of these four, Michael Curtiz’s “Kid Galahad”, she is a fight promoter’s (Edward G. Robinson) girl l that falls for his latest boxing star. Second billed (for one of the last times), she delivers a good girl with a not-so-nice profession in a film that left me fairly indifferent either way. Robinson is the star and it shows - he’s given the grand finale in the tradition of the Warner school of Gangster films.
“Marked Woman” is the second, and her part and the film are slightly more interesting. She plays a club dancer (read prostitute) who rebels against someone who’s basically her pimp (who if I recall correctly has done something slightly naughty like murder). As retaliation he scars her. A prosecutor, played by up and coming Humphrey Bogart, persuades her to tell her tale. I quite like the ending, and Davis put up a fight for her make-up. By refusing to be as glamourised as the studio wanted, she probably made herself noticed to audiences as a brave performer. As much as I love her, and I do, I can’t help the feeling of calculated move. And somehow it makes me love her even more.
The third film is by far the weakest, “That Certain Woman”, a remake of a Gloria Swanson early talkie ("The Trespasser", 1929). Both films were written and directed by Edmund Goulding. I saw the original last year at the London Film Festival, and all I can say is that Goulding should take full responsibility for both. It’s melodramatic tripe of the worst kind. All sentiment and no substance. If I mentioned that the 1937 version also stars Henry Fonda, the full scale of the waste might be better felt. It has however two things I quite liked. One was Donald Crisp’s turn as the evil, remorseless father-in-law. Manipulative, imposing, full of self-importance, not used to lose, his is the sole redeeming performance, probably because is so brief. The second thing was Ernest Haller’s magnificent cinematography – that man did know a few things about his craft (as also seen in “Gone with the Wind”, “Jezebel”, “All this, and Heaven too” or “Mildred Pierce”).
Finally, there’s “It’s Love I’m After”, a screwball comedy with Leslie Howard and Olivia de Havilland, with Davis and Howard playing two over the top actors (Howard clearly taking inspiration from the John Barrymore school of actors). While is not one of the best, it’s a decent second-tier comedy, with a few scenes, in particular the beginning, where the two actors insult each other while performing “Romeo and Juliet”’s death scenes. Davis was not a great comedienne as Irene Dunne or Barbara Stanwyck, but she has a way with sarcastic dialogue that I find really, really funny. And that was perfect for screwball.
What all these four films show best is Davis’ versatility and ambition. She fought Warners for better parts and in the end she got “Jezebel” and the rest is history. However, what I find the most interesting about these films is that they suggest the possibility that without “Jezebel” and Wyler, Bette Davis might have been confined to footnotes in film books or to cult-ish status, like fellow Warner leading ladies of the 1930s Ann Dvorak, Kay Francis or Ruth Chatterton. Or maybe not. Maybe by 1937 her path to screen greatness was already inevitable.
“Marked Woman” is the second, and her part and the film are slightly more interesting. She plays a club dancer (read prostitute) who rebels against someone who’s basically her pimp (who if I recall correctly has done something slightly naughty like murder). As retaliation he scars her. A prosecutor, played by up and coming Humphrey Bogart, persuades her to tell her tale. I quite like the ending, and Davis put up a fight for her make-up. By refusing to be as glamourised as the studio wanted, she probably made herself noticed to audiences as a brave performer. As much as I love her, and I do, I can’t help the feeling of calculated move. And somehow it makes me love her even more.The third film is by far the weakest, “That Certain Woman”, a remake of a Gloria Swanson early talkie ("The Trespasser", 1929). Both films were written and directed by Edmund Goulding. I saw the original last year at the London Film Festival, and all I can say is that Goulding should take full responsibility for both. It’s melodramatic tripe of the worst kind. All sentiment and no substance. If I mentioned that the 1937 version also stars Henry Fonda, the full scale of the waste might be better felt. It has however two things I quite liked. One was Donald Crisp’s turn as the evil, remorseless father-in-law. Manipulative, imposing, full of self-importance, not used to lose, his is the sole redeeming performance, probably because is so brief. The second thing was Ernest Haller’s magnificent cinematography – that man did know a few things about his craft (as also seen in “Gone with the Wind”, “Jezebel”, “All this, and Heaven too” or “Mildred Pierce”).
Finally, there’s “It’s Love I’m After”, a screwball comedy with Leslie Howard and Olivia de Havilland, with Davis and Howard playing two over the top actors (Howard clearly taking inspiration from the John Barrymore school of actors). While is not one of the best, it’s a decent second-tier comedy, with a few scenes, in particular the beginning, where the two actors insult each other while performing “Romeo and Juliet”’s death scenes. Davis was not a great comedienne as Irene Dunne or Barbara Stanwyck, but she has a way with sarcastic dialogue that I find really, really funny. And that was perfect for screwball.What all these four films show best is Davis’ versatility and ambition. She fought Warners for better parts and in the end she got “Jezebel” and the rest is history. However, what I find the most interesting about these films is that they suggest the possibility that without “Jezebel” and Wyler, Bette Davis might have been confined to footnotes in film books or to cult-ish status, like fellow Warner leading ladies of the 1930s Ann Dvorak, Kay Francis or Ruth Chatterton. Or maybe not. Maybe by 1937 her path to screen greatness was already inevitable.
Friday, 11 September 2009
Errol Flynn's comedies: The Perfect Specimen (1937) and Four's a Crowd (1938)
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)