Author: Snugglecub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mildred Pierce – 1945

Mildred Pierce was a film that was trying very hard to be Double Indemnity, but couldn’t quite get there.  That being said, I’ll also say that it wasn’t a bad movie.  I enjoyed it well enough, and thought that Joan Crawford did a fantastic job.  There was supposed to be a big twist in the end that would really shock the audience, but I had it figured out before the film was half over.

Crawford starred as the lead, Mildred Pierce, an obviously wealthy woman in an expensive fur coat, who is shown driving away from a house after a murder has been committed.  Naturally, we are supposed to think that she is the murderess.  When she is pulled into the police station for questioning, the police apologize for bringing her in, and tell her she is free to go, making us think she would get away with the murder.  They also tell her that her ex-husband was the guilty party, murdering her lover out of jealousy.

But then the meat of the story begins as Mildred tells her story to explain how the accused man is innocent.  The rest of the film is, in a somewhat noir style, told in flashback with voice-over narration.  Mildred and her husband Bert, played by Bruce Bennett, are poor and struggling with two daughters.  The eldest daughter is Veda, played by Ann Blyth.  She is more concerned with money than with honesty.  The younger daughter Kay, played by Jo Ann Marlow, is a tomboy.

Bert’s business associate Wally Fay, played by Jack Carson, who has an attraction to Mildred, is happy when he finds that Bert and Mildred are splitting up.  He wastes no time in hitting on her in a way that is so ridiculous it’s comical.  Apparently, to Wally, ‘no’ means ‘let’s go to my bedroom and have sex.’  Mildred literally has to push him out the door.

Anyway, that’s the set-up, with the exception of Monte Beragon, played by Zachary Scott, the man who we already know will be murdered in the end.  As a drama/suspense film, it had very few overly dramatic or suspenseful scenes.  Most of the movie seemed to be the story of Mildred and her struggles to make insane amounts of money, all to make Veda happy.  But with Veda, too much wealth is never enough.  She even starts trying to steal Mildred’s lover, Monte.

Three guesses as to who the actual murderess is.  It was too easy to figure out, making it a bit of a weak story.  The problem is that I’m not sure how I would have changed things to make it better.  Maybe make it less obvious that Veda was an evil young girl.  Maybe hide the fact that she was after Monte.  Possibly confuse the audience by giving Mildred a more incriminating reason for wanting Monte dead.  Or maybe give Bert a darker character, capable of murder.  I don’t know.

Crawford was the best part of the film, far outshining the rest of the cast.  She handled the full range of emotions that the role demanded with what appeared to be a practiced and steady hand.   Not only that, but the character was well-written and believable.  Mildred had her flaws which made her more human.  She was smart, but didn’t always make wise decisions, and she allowed her evil daughter to manipulate her at every turn.  Crawford’s sharp acting helped to build the film’s otherwise weak tension.

On the down side, the character of Veda was a little one-note.  It was clear very early on that we were not supposed to like her, and she never showed a humanizing, likable side.  Unfortunately, because of how the character was written, her guilt was all too obvious.

One peripheral character that I enjoyed was Mildred’s co-worker and friend, Ida, played by Eve Arden.  She was almost like the comic relief, except she wasn’t written as comedic, just very cynical.  She was intelligent and cared for Mildred, as any good friend should.  Sometimes her sarcastic humor would come close to truth, which was clever.

As far as Mildred Pierce being a film noir, I would say that it missed one crucial element.  My research tells me that a film noir should be told from the point of view of the murderer.  This film didn’t do that.  The story was told from Mildred’s perspective.  Not only that, but the actual murder was not a planned act at all, but a crime of passion.  There was no tension in following the motives and thoughts of the criminal.

It’s not that I didn’t like this movie – I just felt that it was trying too hard to be something it wasn’t.  I think it would have been better if it had been treated as a simple murder mystery by giving more characters believable motives to want the victim’s demise.  Maybe then, Crawford could have been the lead suspect among a cast of characters who all wanted Monte Beragon dead.  Maybe.  Or to make it a true film noir, the entire cast could have been in on an elaborate plan to kill Monte.  Now that would have been an interesting movie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Bells of St. Mary’s  – 1945

The Bells of St. Mary’s was a like a glass of lemonade with so much sugar in it that it turns your stomach.  It was incredibly unrealistic and even ridiculous.  It was nowhere near believable in its treatment of characters and their motivations.  And it was so overwhelmingly wholesome and good, it made Mother Theresa look like Atilla the Nun.

So where do I start?  Well, the film starred Bing Crosby as Father O’Malley, the same character who he played in the previous year’s Best Picture winning film, Going My Way.  He is the newly arrived Catholic Pastor at St. Mary’s School.  There is a group of nuns teaching at the school, headed by Sister Superior, Sister Mary Benedict, played by Ingrid Bergman.

Sister Mary Benedict and Father O’Malley are sometimes at odds with each other about their methods of teaching the young, impressionable minds of the students.  Nothing is ever bitter or mean-spirited, but they do disagree on occasion.  So, because there was no serious conflict, most of the film was pretty bland.

But audiences didn’t care, because the plot epitomized the concept of “ideal Christian behavior.”  It didn’t give us a story that was realistic.  It gave us one that was fabricated to show us an image of what the world should be like.  In a film, the action should serve the plot, but here the plot served the action.  Conservative Christians want to see a grumpy old man become charitable.  Let’s give it to them.  They want to see a father who abandoned his wife and child reunite with them after 13 years, and become a responsible husband and father.  Let’s give them that, too.  How about two boys fighting on the playground, then shaking hands and becoming friends?  Yeah, that’s great!  Throw reality out the window and put that in there, too!

And, of course, you have Bing Crosby, so you also need several songs for him to sing… except that the songs were thrown in at completely random places, and were largely unmemorable, in any case.  True, Crosby had a beautiful voice, but his singing had nothing to do with advancing either the plot or the emotional content of the film.

The Bells of St. Mary’s also broke the cardinal sin of movie-making.  Cute for the sake of cute is never cute.  Never.  There was an entire random scene that had absolutely nothing to do with the plot or any subplot.  A group of first-graders, who looked old enough to be in 3^rd grade, performed a Christmas Pageant for O’Malley and Mary Benedict.  There was no reason for it except to show people how cute children could be.  Get rid of it.

And I’ll also take a moment here to give an example of why O’Malley was a horrible teacher.  When Mary Benedict is forced to fail a student because of low marks, O’Malley puts pressure on her to fudge the results of the child’s test scores so that she can graduate with her class – because he really believes that the young Patricia, played by Joan Carrol, is a good person who just needs to be given the chance to succeed.  No!  First, the failing student learns nothing if she is given good marks she has not earned.  Doing so ultimately hurts the student.  Second, Mary Benedict argues that failing to uphold the school’s educational standards would tarnish the honor of the school.  But O’Malley still tries to get her to lie for the sake of Patricia.

But despite his horrible judgment, his willingness to lie to spare a person’s feelings, and a questionable moral center, he is portrayed as a benevolent hero with a Midas-touch.  He is able to manipulate Horace Bogardus, the grumpy old man who owns the modern building next door, played by Henry Travers, to donate his nice new facility to the church because he discovers the joy of generosity.  That tiger changed his stripes after a lifetime of being selfish.  Good work Father O’Malley!

The film’s only real, genuine emotional content, and consequently its only noteworthy acting, came at the end when Sister Mary Benedict is diagnosed with tuberculosis.  Her doctor says that telling her of her illness will upset her and make her condition worse.  Better to lie to her about her health and transfer her to a drier climate without telling her why.  O’Malley does just that.  Of course, the nun assumes that she is being sent away because of her disagreements with Father O’Malley, with whom she has developed a bond of mutual respect.  She feels betrayed and hurt, and struggles with understanding and accepting the transfer.  Her scene of tearful prayer was well-acted, but that was about the extent of the real drama of the movie.

And finally, I have to mention one little thing I found interesting.  For a film that is overtly Catholic, a little omission was made that I didn’t understand.  When the children are saying the Pledge of Allegiance, they went directly from “One Nation,” to “Indivisible,” skipping the line “Under God.”  But my research set me straight, when I learned that the line wasn’t added to the statement of fealty to the flag until 1954.  Who knew?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anchors Aweigh – 1945

This movie was nice and fluffy, but not Best Picture material.  There was no substance to it.  The plot was vapid and predictable, the characters were shallow and two-dimensional, and the costumes were simplistic and laughable.  All that being said, I liked it well enough.

This film was nothing more than an excuse for Gene Kelly to dance, and for Frank Sinatra and Kathryn Grayson to sing.  But when it comes to that, if you like to watch Kelly dance and listen to Sinatra sing, then you’re going to enjoy the film.  The two men were masterful in their respective art forms.  Just don’t expect any deep drama or funny comedy.

The plot was cute enough and it must have appealed to an America that had just come out of World War II.  Everyone was feeling very patriotic, which the military loved, of course.  So, why not continue to paint the picture of handsome and wholesome sailors in their Navy blues?  Kelly and Sinatra play decorated war heroes, Joe and Clarence, who are on leave in Hollywood, California.  Clarence is terminally shy, and Joe is a lady’s man.

Together, the two of them get ridiculously roped into taking care of a little nine-year-old boy, played by Dean Stockwell, who ran away from home to join the Navy.  Hmmm… dangerously close to breaking the cardinal rule…  While taking the truant home, they meet his Aunt Susie, played by Grayson.  She is an aspiring singer with dreams of getting an audition with world renowned pianist, Jose Iturbi.

Clarence falls instantly in love with her and manipulates Joe into helping him to get a date with her.  So what is their solution?  Why, to lie to her, of course!  They tell her that Clarence is great friends with Iturbi and has gotten her the audition she wants.  But Clarence is so shy that he can’t talk to her on their date.  Joe, on the other hand, finds himself falling for her as well.  In comes the beautiful waitress from Brooklyn, played by Pamela Britton, who is enraptured by Clarence’s singing…

OK, so the movie isn’t even half way over at this point.  There is still more than an hour and twenty minutes to go.  Can you guess how the movie ends?  I could.  Joe ends up with Susie, Clarence ends up with “The Girl from Brooklyn” (that’s the only name she is given in the credits), Susie gets her audition with Iturbi, and she is an instant success!  Yay!  Happy ending!

But like I said, the singing and dancing were incredible.  Gene Kelly always looks like he is really at home on the dance stage.  His moves are free and easy, and he make it all look so simple.  Here are a few things about his dancing in Anchors Aweigh that caught my attention.  First, was the ridiculous dance sequence with Jerry Mouse.

Yes, that’s right.  Tom and Jerry were in the film.  It was an early example of a composited sequence that gave us Gene Kelly dancing with animated cartoon characters.  Of course, the entire dance number, interesting as it was, and technically impressive for a film that came out in 1945, had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the plot of the film.  It was 100% gratuitous.

One other little thing I noticed was during a dance sequence when Joe and Susie finally admit their love for each other.  Kelly, dressed in a Spanish bandito costume, is dancing on a polished red floor.  What caught my attention wasn’t the dancing, but the fact that you could see the scuff marks all over the floor that showed you exactly what his next move was going to be.  The marks must have been made during rehearsals or previous takes.  But there they all were, clear as day.  The floor should have been re-polished between each take.

Sinatra’s singing was superb, especially if you like his style.  His voice was velvety and smooth, though to be honest, I think Bing Crosby had a better voice.  Grayson’s singing was alright, though in her upper range, she sounded a little shrill.

But the performance that truly impressed me was the pianist, Jose Iturbi.  You could easily tell that he was actually playing his instrument, as compared to other films where an actor plays a guitar without moving his fingers along the frets.  Iturbi was the real deal, and he was incredible.  There was one number where he is the lead pianist on the stage of the Hollywood Bowl while 18 other grand pianos, all played by children between 10 and 16 years old, accompanied him.  They played the technically demanding Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2 by Franz Liszt.  That was impressive.  Again, it had nothing to do with the plot, but it was impressive.

But I hold a Best Picture nominee to a higher standard.  A film should have something more than just impressive song and dance numbers to make it to that level.  Anchors Aweigh just didn’t have it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wilson – 1944

This review is going to be pretty straight forward.  There were several things I liked and several things I didn’t.  For example, I liked that it was filmed in Technicolor, which was surprising for a movie released in 1944.  I liked the historical accuracy and the epic scale of the narrative.  However, I didn’t like the film’s slow pace, the acting skills of the actor playing Woodrow Wilson, Alexander Knox, the way Wilson’s character was written, and the music.

So, we’ll start off with what I did like.  I went into the film knowing nothing about it except that it dealt with Woodrow Wilson.  I saw a name or two in the opening credits that I recognized and enjoyed Charles Coburn as Doctor Henry Holmes, and Thomas Mitchell as Joseph Tumulty.  I recognized Vincent Price as William Gibbs McAdoo, and Geraldine Fitzgerald as Edith Bolling Galt.

The film was actually pretty accurate in things like events and places, though it is hard to determine the accuracy of how these historical figures were portrayed.  The film’s producer, Darryl Zanuck and the script writer, Lamar Trotti were obviously huge Woodrow Wilson fans.  The problem was that they portrayed him as a veritable saint.  He was too perfect.  The character hadn’t a single personality flaw, and as we all know, real human beings aren’t like that.

But I get it.  I know why he was portrayed as such an insanely perfect character.  This was, first and foremost, a propaganda film.  The United States was deep into World War II, and anything anyone could do to bolster support for the war was like gold to the Allies.  It was good for the public to be reminded of the remarkable president who was critical in bringing about the end of World War I, the man who’s first and most important agenda was world peace.  So as a result, the film vomited patriotism all over the viewers and it did so unapologetically.  If I hear another marching band playing Hail to the Chief or God Bless America, I’m going to stuff red, white, and blue cotton in my ears!

Anyway, I did like the epic nature of the plot.  The plot followed Wilson’s political career, beginning with his run for the office governor for the state of New Jersey, and ending with him stepping down after completing his second term as President of the United States.  But as an interesting note, the film decidedly neglected to mention that despite his health problems, the real Woodrow Wilson had hopes of being elected for a third term, even though he had no support for such a campaign.

In between, the movie actually showed a lot of the really wonderful and important things Wilson did while in office.  It didn’t go into details, but it did show some of the important bills and acts that he signed into existence, and if you could read them fast enough as the bills were displayed on the screen, you could get a general idea of what they were.  The movie covered all of the key points of his two terms in office.

The film also covered some important parts of his personal life like the death of his first wife and his relationship and subsequent marriage to his second.  It delved into the reasons behind some of his key decisions like his policy of keeping the United States out of World War I until the time was right.   Then it covered his reason for entering the conflict and his conviction concerning the rightness of it.  The use of actual WWI newsreel footage was used, and that was interesting, as well.

But the movie came off as being cold and sterile, something I mostly attribute to the writing.  It tried to be factual and inspirational with its anti-war, pro-peace message.  Knox was nominated for Best Actor, but I found his portrayal a little forced and a little cold.  Geraldine Fitzgerald was good, but I wouldn’t say great, and I have always liked Thomas Mitchell.  Just watch out for the incredibly slow pace and you’ll be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since You Went Away – 1944

This was a great big WWII propaganda film.  My biggest beef with it was its forced wholesomeness.  It was so forced as to be incredibly fake.  Where else would you have to listen to a grown man saying things like “golly gee whiz!” or “I sure had a swell time!”  I’m sure that there were people that really talked like this, but when these lines are spoken as dialogue, it felt unnatural and forced.

Then there was the score.  It was written by Max Steiner, and he won the movie’s only Oscar for his efforts.  But again, I don’t understand why.  The category for which it won was Best Original Score Comedy, though I’m not sure I’d call the film a comedy.  The music, while lush and dramatic, was sometimes like a bull in a china shop.  There was very little subtlety, and I knew what I was in for after the first few minutes.  The movie opens as the camera pans across a room, focusing on a few objects that tell of a married couple with children.  When we see a wedding photo, the music throws out a few bars of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March.  Then it pans over a pair of bronzed baby shoes and we are treated to a few measures of Brahms’ Lullaby.  I don’t want to call that lazy writing, but it wasn’t as clever as Steiner thought it was.  It was just a bit heavy handed.

The movie starred Claudette Colbert as Anne Hilton, a woman whose husband, Tim, has just gone off to fight in WWII.  Of course, being a propaganda film, it is revealed that Tim went off to fight with a heart full of pride and civic duty.  He and every other man was eager to enlist and excited at the prospect of fighting and dying for his country.  Anne has two daughters, Jane and Bridget, played by Jennifer Jones and Shirley Temple.  Of course when Pop goes off to war, money gets tight so they have to let the maid go.  Fidelia, played by Hattie McDaniel loved the family so much that she nearly begs Anne to work for them for free.

The best man at Anne and Tim’s wedding was a naval officer named Tony Willett, played by Joseph Cotton.  He is a bit of a playboy who is secretly a perfect gentleman.  To earn some extra cash while Pop is away, the Hiltons take on a lodger, Colonel William Smollett, played by Monty Woolley.  He is a stern, crotchety man who treats all the women in the house like his personal servants, though he is really an old softy.  His estranged grandson, Bill, is played by Robert Walker.  In order to prove himself to his grandfather, he happily joins the army.  Then to round out the cast, Agnes Moorhead played Mrs. Hawkins, the mean old hoity-toity who is too aristocratic to help in the war effort, and who nobody likes anyway.  And don’t be fooled by the film’s poster.  Sure Lionel Barry was in the movie as a preacher… for all of 1 minute and twenty seconds of the three hour movie..

The movie is all about how civilians deal with the absence of their loved ones because of the war.  There are a lot of tears and even a few deaths to give the drama some depth.  And you can be sure that Max Steiner’s schmaltzy score did its best to emphasize it all.  The movie wasn’t bad.  It just wasn’t as good as it thought it was.  It went on about an hour too long.  So much could have been taken out.

The actors all did just fine, but it seemed that some were better than others.  For example, when it came to the three Hilton women, their acting skills seemed to be a direct reflection of their ages.  Shirley Temple was alright.  This is the only time I have seen her on the silver screen during her teenage years, and she seemed to be struggling to break away from her baby doll roles.  Jennifer Jones was better, but some of her dialogue felt too forced.  And Claudette Colbert was, as always, very good.  She had an ease in front of the camera that made her character feel natural.  Most other characters in the movie were passable, but it wasn’t their faults.  They were written as caricatures, not characters.

And it wouldn’t be a true 1940s Hollywood movie if it didn’t have those predictable romances.  Young Jane loves Uncle Tony.  Tony is constantly hitting on Anne.  Anne can only think of her husband.  Tony is shipped off to war and Jane falls for Bill.  Bill gets killed in action, and Jane, who has become a nurse’s aide, falls in love with a wounded soldier.  And in the end, Anne gets a telegram saying that her husband, Tim, after having been missing in action for some time, is safe and is returning home just in time for Christmas.  Happy ending!

But I have to make special mention of one wonderful scene that made me fall out of my seat laughing, and not because it was in any way funny.  The 1980 movie, Airplane! is one of the funniest movies ever made.  In it, there was a scene in which a young girl is saying goodbye to an army soldier as the airplane is taking off.  The melodramatic music starts playing and the soldier stands in the open door of the Boeing 707 as it starts speeding away for take-off.  She runs after the plane, knocking down pylons, and shouting her tearful goodbyes.  This hilarious scene was a direct spoof of Jane saying farewell to Bill as his train takes him away from her.  Airplane! spoofed the scene perfectly, from the dialogue, right down to the exact clothing Jane was wearing!  Priceless!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gaslight – 1944

I described this movie to a friend as being like a Hitchcock film without the Hitchcock.  It had the same creepy aura as Hitchcock’s only Best Picture winner, 1940’s Rebecca.  Gaslight starred Charles Boyer and Ingrid Bergman in two incredible performances, as well as Joseph Cotton, and an 18 year old Angela Lansbury.  Boyer, Bergman, and Lansbury were all nominated for Oscars for Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Supporting Actress, respectively.

It really was a great psychological suspense-thriller, a film noir.  Boyer plays Gregory Anton, a pianist who meets and marries a beautiful young singer named Paula Alquist, niece to the famous soprano, Alice Alquist, who had been murdered when Paula had been a child.  The newlywed couple move into the house in which the unsolved murder had taken place.

Paula is haunted by the ghosts of the past, and it soon becomes apparent that she is losing her mind.  She becomes forgetful and loses things.  She steals things and forgets her own thievery.  She alone hears mysterious noises coming from the attic where all her aunt’s old things have been stored.  And she believes that the gaslights go dim every evening when nobody else can see them.

Bergman was fantastic.  Her portrayal was genius.  The descending levels of her tenuous hold on reality are clear and easy to see, meaning that she doesn’t go crazy all at once – It happens in stages.  Not only that, but she was also easy on the eyes.  It was a plum role that any actress would have loved to play, but Bergman really did it justice.

Boyer also delivered a wonderful performance.  As the criminal who was going out of his way to push her into madness, Boyer kept me guessing until the very end.  There were times I wasn’t sure who to believe.  But when the truth was revealed in the end, that his entire relationship with Paula had been a scam for him to get back into the house where he had murdered her aunt, he got his just deserts in a satisfying way.  Sure he was simply carted off to jail, supposedly to await trial and execution, but the big climax scene was so well written.

Joseph Cotton played a Scotland Yard police investigator who recognizes Boyer from the events surrounding the original murder.  He begins asking questions and snooping around.  He uncovers Gregory’s true identity and his true motives just in time to save Paula’s sanity and put her persecutor in prison.

After Gregory is caught, but before he is taken away, Paula asks to see him alone.  Her little speech was so good that I’ll include it here.  “If I were not mad, I could have helped you.  Whatever you had done, I could have pitied and protected you.  But because I am mad, I hate you.  Because I am mad, I have betrayed you.  And because I’m mad, I’m rejoicing in my heart, without a shred of pity, without a shred of regret, watching you go with glory in my heart!”  The whole scene was very well played.

Also, I have to give a special thumbs-up to Angela Lansbury.  She had a rather small part, but it was very memorable.  She was the couple’s housemaid.  Now, maybe I was biased towards Lansbury because I already like her as an actress, but she really did well with the small role.  She was supposed to subtly despise Paula because she was secretly lusting after Gregory, and it all came across quite clearly, without being over-the-top.

In my research, I found that Patrick Hamilton’s original 1938 play had already been made into a movie in 1940, starring Anton Wallbrook and Diana Wynyard.  It was a British film, and I was surprised to read that when MGM bought the rights to do a remake, they allegedly ordered that all prints of the 1940 film be destroyed.  Bad show, MGM!  Fortunately, if this were true, the order was not successfully carried out.

Also, though director George Cukor is a hit or miss in my book, he did his job well with Gaslight, making great use of on-screen and off-screen action, and creative use of shadows to imbue the film with the right mood. I only know him from his other Academy Award nominated films like 1933’s Little Women, 1935’s David Copperfield, 1936’s Romeo and Juliette, which I hated, 1940’s Philadelphia Story, and of course 1964’s Best Picture winning My Fair Lady.  So, I suppose, in retrospect, he had more hits than misses.

The only thing I could have done without was the annoying character of Miss Bessie Thwaites, played by Dame May Whitty.  She was an old busy-body who was… I don’t know – comic relief?  She really had no purpose but to be a bothersome neighbor who seemed interested in death and unsolved murder cases.  She could have been written out of the script and the movie would have been better off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Double Indemnity – 1944

Who knew a movie about insurance fraud could be so good?  There were a lot of reasons why this movie took the movie-going public by storm, why critics, even today, praise it for its hard-hitting film noir style, and why it will be forever remembered as one of the great classics of the cinema.  Double Indemnity was a story that was told on multiple levels, through its incredible cast of actors, its music, its cinematography, and its brilliant script.  The film’s director Billy Wilder knocked this one out of the park.

Many call Double Indemnity the first real example of the film noir genre.  It was a film style that has been copied over and over again in Hollywood.  Film noir is defined as having (paraphrased from Wikipedia) “a plot about how a crime is perpetrated, told from the point of view of the criminal, psychosexual themes that are explored, and visually dark and claustrophobic framing, with key lighting, casting strong shadows that both conceal and project characters’ feelings. Double Indemnity includes all of these traits.”

When casting, Wilder was turned down by most Hollywood actors, the script being very sordid and dark for its time.  But, ironically, three of the highest paid American actors were convinced to do the film.  Barbara Stanwyck, Fred McMurray, and Edward G. Robinson played the leads and they were all incredible in their own ways.

We’ll start with McMurray, playing the role of Walter Neff, insurance salesman and all around good guy.  The whole film takes place from his perspective.  Within the first few minutes of the film, he confesses to committing fraud and being a murderer.   He also explicitly states his motives, saying, “Yes, I killed him. I killed him for money – and a woman – and I didn’t get the money and I didn’t get the woman. Pretty, isn’t it?”  Then the rest of the movie is the flashback which tells us how it was all done.

McMurray was wonderful in the role.  He knew how to play both the nice guy and the cold murderer.  He knew how to put you at ease before making you feel uncomfortable, and he did it all with a hard edged cynicism that kept you guessing which way he was going.

Stanwyck was also a powerful screen presence.  She was the shady, sleazy woman who was a cool killer.  Her character, Phyllis Dietrichson, wanted her husband dead, so she seduces Neff and manipulates him into committing the murder.  Stanwyck was incredible in her cold, emotionless demeanor.  The subtle looks, the insanity boiling under the surface, the determined focus, and the uncaring selfishness all added up to make a very stylized, and yet convincing, character.

And finally Robinson, who really surprised me with the sharp and powerful portrayal of Barton Keys, Neff’s co-worker and long-time friend.  His job at the insurance agency was to find fraud and root it out.  I could tell, just by watching Robinson, that he knew his part in-side-and-out.  He was perfect in his delivery, his mannerisms, and his motivations.  Very well done, Mr. Robinson!

The cinematographer also made great use of lighting, casting shadows everywhere.  He made wonderful use of venetian blinds to cast shadows that looked like prison bars, giving the whole film a trapped and claustrophobic feel.

I also have to mention the genius of the film-score by Miklos Rozsa.  It had incredible tension and danger in all the right spots.  It was dramatic without being melodramatic.  Of course, Rozsa is also known for writing other great scores like 1945’s The Lost Weekend, and 1959’s Ben-Hur.  He truly was a master of his craft.

And finally I have to mention the director, Billy Wilder.  He had a vision of a particular style that was all his own.  He seemed to be involved in every aspect of the film, putting his own touch, his own imagination into its making.  He did a wonderful job spearheading the project and I was both surprised and disappointed to learn that though the film was nominated for 7 Oscars, it didn’t win a single one.  It was beat out for Best Picture by Going My Way, which in my opinion, was a far inferior film.  Wilder, you got robbed!

A little bit of interesting trivia I found while reading up on Double Indemnity was that Barbara Stanwyck originally didn’t want to take the part of Phyllis because she didn’t want to tarnish her Hollywood image by playing a murderess, saying, “I said, ‘I love the script and I love you, but I am a little afraid after all these years of playing heroines to go into an out-and-out killer.’ And Mr. Wilder – and rightly so – looked at me and he said, ‘Well, are you a mouse or an actress?’ And I said, ‘Well, I hope I’m an actress.’ He said, ‘Then do the part’. And I did and I’m very grateful to him.”  So are the rest of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Watch on the Rhine – 1943

Bette Davis is back in this nominee, this time playing the part of Sara, an American woman married to German revolutionary, Kurt Muller, played by Paul Lukas.  He is revolting against, you guessed it, the Nazis.  Sara believes in his work so much that she is willing to sacrifice him to further the cause of freedom, not just for herself, but for all people.  You can’t get much more patriotic than that.  Buy war bonds!

Of course, that barely begins to cover the details of the plot, but it more than suffices for the overall scope of the film.  It is just another example of an anti-Fascist propaganda movie.  There was no subtlety in it, no finesse.  It seems as if Hollywood, if not the world, was beyond subtlety at this point in history.  There was nothing left but a heavy hand, bearing the unequivocal message that the Nazis needed to be put down.

Sara has been living abroad with her husband and their three children, one of whom was so annoying that I wanted to reach into the screen and slap him.  I guess I should explain that.  The three children, Joshua, Babette, and Bodo, were played by child actors Donald Buka, Janis Wilson, and Eric Roberts, respectively.  The character of Bodo was walking the fine line of breaking the cardinal rule of filmmaking.  Cute for the sake of cute is never cute.  Never.

But this time I don’t blame the actor.  It was the way the character was written.  He was the youngest sibling, and the author was trying to make the point that the children had been robbed of their childhoods because of the dangerous nature of their father’s important work.  So, Bodo went out of his way to be as grown-up as possible by using unusually articulate, grown-up dialogue.  Sadly, it just came across as precocious and annoying.  I wanted him to shut-up just as much as his brother and sister did.

The family is fleeing Europe and make it to the States under assumed names, where they move in with Sara’s super-wealthy mother, Fanny Farrelly, wonderfully played by Lucile Watson.  Watson did a fantastic job as a well-meaning but self-centered busy body with more money than she knew what to do with.  The actress was a dead-ringer for Patricia Routledge as Hyacinth Bucket in the popular British TV series, Keeping Up Appearances.  Same look, same personality, same voice.  If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn it was her.

The conflict for the movie took the form of an evil Nazi sympathizer who, from the very beginning of the film, is established as the bad guy.  He even got his own ominous music whenever he appeared on the screen, just in case the viewer was unsure of the character.  He is Teck de Brancovis, played by George Coulouris.  He is a weasel who is dishonest, shady, and unnecessarily arrogant.  The character was neither deep nor complex.  What he was, was predictable.  He and his wife Marthe, played by Geraldine Fitzgerald, with whom he shares a loveless marriage, are staying at Fanny’s house as guests, though the film never really explains why they are staying there.

Kurt learns that a fellow rebel who had once saved his life from the Gestapo, nearly at the cost of his own, has been captured by the Germans.  He has no choice but to return to Germany to attempt a rescue.  To make a long story short, Teck finds out who Kurt really is, and blackmails him, threatening to turn him over to the Nazis, as he is on their most-wanted list.  This would mean an automatic death sentence.

But the end of the film pleasantly surprised me.  Kurt actually did something that made sense, though it did not follow the stereotypical Hollywood hero formula.  He murders Teck.  Not only does he kill the man in cold blood, he is completely honest about it with his wife, his mother-in law, and Sara’s brother, David, played by Donald Woods.  And not only do they agree with his reasons, they help him get away with the crime.  Logically, it is what should have happened.  It was the only way to ensure his safety during his rescue mission.

But here’s the really interesting part – the Hayes Code tried to put their stamp on the film, saying that a man cannot get away with murder without being punished for it.  They wanted the director, Herman Shumlin to include a scene, making it known Kurt eventually got killed by the Nazis, and therefore paid for his crime.  But he actually defied the Hayes Code, and, with the support of Warner Brothers Studios, allowed Kurt to get away with it, saying that Teck was an evil character who deserved what he got.  Of course, the actual killing took place off-screen.

Another interesting point about this film is that the role of Sara was really a small, supporting role.  Kurt was the main character.  Bette Davis was a huge name in Hollywood and took the small part because she really believed in the film’s message and pro-war point of view.  She even tried to convince the studio to give her second billing, but that request was denied.  The studio said that if they gave her top billing, more people would come see the film, which was the whole point of her participation in the first place.

 

The Song of Bernadette – 1943

I’ll start this review off by saying that I am a religious man, though I am not Catholic.  That being said, I found this film to be incredibly good.  It was religiously uplifting without being preachy.  It was overtly Catholic but seemed to show both positive and negative qualities that can be associated with the Catholic Church.  It was incredibly well acted on all fronts and masterfully scripted.  The director also did a fantastic job, making good use of unique camera angles and lighting.

The movie starred Jennifer Jones in her big-screen debut.  In fact, she did such a good job she won the Academy Award for Best Actress that year.  She played the role of Bernadette Soubirous, a 14 year old girl, living in southern France with her parents, and three siblings.  She isn’t terribly bright, but she is honest and sincere.

One day she is gathering firewood with her sisters near the local garbage dump and she sees a vision of a lady dressed in white.  The lady asks her to come to her for fifteen days.  She also says some pretty disturbing stuff like, “You will never be happy in this life, but you will in the next.”

The lady, who only Bernadette can see or hear, is obviously the Virgin Mary.  The movie that follows is the story of how Bernadette becomes Saint Bernadette.  It goes through the difficulties that the young girl faces as she struggles to obey the lady, who, incidentally, Bernadette never directly identifies as the Virgin – a significant point, since the city officials who spend the entire film interrogating her and attempting to discredit her, try to get her to name the lady, which would give them grounds to legally persecute her.

The various characters all start off thinking Bernadette is hallucinating or making up stories.  But through her honesty and her unwavering conviction in the truth of what she is seeing, she wins them all over.  At first, only her family follows her, still not believing her story.  Then more and more of the poor townsfolk start to follow her and believe her.

Then everything changes when the miracles start happening.  A spring of clean water that has healing properties appears.  Uneducated Bernadette starts using phrases and concepts that she knows nothing about.  Eventually, emperors and bishops hear of her amazing tale and get involved.  And through it all, Jennifer Jones maintained her phenomenal performance.  The performance was genuine and uplifting and I think she really deserved the Oscar she won.

In addition to Jones, great performances were given by Vincent Price as Prosecutor Vital Dutour, one of her main persecutors, Charles Bickford as Father Peyramale, the priest who grudgingly became a believer, Anne Revere as Bernadette’s mother Louise, and Roman Bonhen as her father Francois.

Also, Gladys Cooper turned in an incredible performance as Sister Marie Therese Vauzous, a nun who hated Bernadette because the Virgin appeared to her.  She believed that the only true path to righteousness was through pain and suffering.  She spent her life taking as much of both as she could in her efforts toward godliness.  Her catharsis and revelation were powerful to watch.

That revelation came in the form of a big reveal for the audience as well.  Sister Marie Therese said, “Why were you the one who was chosen?  What do you know of suffering?”  Bernadette could give no answer but to reveal that she had been suffering all her life in a most unbelievable fashion.  She apparently had bone marrow cancer, and for those of us who don’t know, bone marrow cancer is incredibly painful.

As I said, the film was incredibly inspirational and religiously uplifting.  The actors all did a fine job, but of course, none of it would have been quite the same without the wonderful score by Alfred Newman, who also won an Oscar for his work on the film.  It was very well written, enhancing the images on the screen without being melodramatic or overpowering.  The sweetness of the film’s score was delicate and yet powerful at the same time.

And finally, as with all films about historical figures, I have to do a little reading to find out how accurate the film was to real life.  Apparently, this one was fairly accurate.  A few characters had some altered motives, some points of view were intensified to give it more drama, but for the most part the story was historically true.  Some biographies are good enough to tell without having to change much.

True, it was a fictionalized account of miraculous events, and I must leave it to everybody to believe or not believe in the events that allegedly took place, but I’m not so naïve as to believe that I know everything there is to know about the world.  Who can say whether the real Bernadette was visited by the Virgin Mary or not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ox-Bow Incident – 1943

This was actually a very short nominee, coming in at an hour and 15 minutes.  It starred Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Harry Morgan, and Frank Conroy.  This film had a lot about it that was very well done.  The casting was perfect, the plot had some substance, the subject matter was engaging, and both the actors and the director, William Wellman, did a fine job.

But there were also a few things about the film that I felt were lacking.  The biggest thing for me was that, in the beginning, the characters were never introduced or developed, and the audience was just expected to pick things up as they happened.  When the lead characters would do things, or not do things, as the case may be, I had no frame of reference to understand why, because I had no idea who they were.  Another problem was that there was the sub-plot of a romance story, of sorts, that had nothing to do with the main plot, the “incident.”  The film would have lost nothing if it had been left out.

Fonda plays the cowboy with a chip on his shoulder and a bottle of whiskey in his hand, Gil Carter.  His friend, Art Croft is played by Harry Morgan, known to most people as Bill Gannon from the TV show Dragnet, and Sherman Potter from the TV show M*A*S*H.  However, I found it interesting that he apparently didn’t have a big enough name to warrant giving him credit on most movie posters at the time, except for one that I found that got his name wrong, calling him Henry Morgan.  Either way, he had a fairly prominent role.

Anyway, the two cowboys ride into town and go to the local saloon.  The bartender serves up the alcohol and the prerequisite angry townsperson comes in and plays the jerk.  A pointless fight ensues and Gil gets laid out with a bottle smashed over his head.  Then the real plot starts and the film gets interesting.

Apparently, there have been some cattle thieves plaguing the town, but this time, they ended up murdering the cattle rancher.  The men of the town are angry enough to form a lynching posse.  They are idiots who want to punish someone, whether it is the guilty party or not.  The sheriff cannot be found, so the deputy oversteps his bounds by deputizing the entire posse, giving the angry mob the appearance of legality.  They go out looking for men to hang.

The leader of the mob is a former Confederate soldier, Major Tetley, played by Frank Conroy.  They find three men camping who seem to have the murder victim’s cattle with them.  To make a short story even shorter, they wake the three men up, accuse them, ignore their pleas of innocence, hang all three of them, and call it a day.

Of course, it is a bit more complex than that.  The leader of the three men is Donald Martin, played by Dana Andrews.  He did a fantastic job, flip-flopping back and forth between anger, confusion, fear, and sad resignation.  Watching his performance, it was hard not to imagine how I would feel if I were in his character’s shoes.  He was innocent, of course, but the crazed mob, especially Major Tetley, wouldn’t have believed him if he said the sky was blue.

The moral dilemma really became the driving force behind the plot as Donald asks to write a letter to his wife, explaining what was happening.  When his letter was read, it became clear that he was innocent.  But just before the hanging, Major Tetley gave anyone who didn’t agree with the farcical verdict the option to officially protest by stepping over a line.  Gil and his friend Art, amongst others, did so, and escaped the guilt of innocent blood.

There was a relevant little sub-plot, involving the Major’s son Gerald, played by William Eythe, in which it becomes clear that he has spent his life being bullied by his father.  During the lynching, he is forced to “be a man” and “do his part” by whipping one of the horses which will run out from under one of the hanging victims.  It is like being forced to pull the switch of an electric chair.  He can’t do it, and Major Tetley knocks him down before whipping the horse himself.

Of course, the sheriff shows up minutes after the deed is done, saying that the murder victim was actually still alive and the real cattle thieves have been apprehended.  It made for a profound ending.  But two more things happened to make it even more jarring.  Major Tetley goes home and commits suicide, and Gil reads Martin’s letter to the men of the guilty mob.  It speaks of how good men are capable of doing bad things, and how people who take the law into their own hands break all the laws of humanity.  Take that Germans.  Remember – we’re still in WWII.

And notice how I didn’t mention Gil’s ridiculous and vapid love story?  Nothing was lost, was it?