Category: Nominees – 1940s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Human Comedy – 1943

OK, stop trying to pretend that you are a movie and just give me the essays on what it means to be an American – because that was all this movie really was.  I understand why this movie was made, and it wasn’t for cinematic greatness.  America was in the middle of World War II, and our soldiers, our sons and husbands, were fighting and dying in a foreign land.    I get it.

However, I can’t help but look at the film objectively.  It was terrible.  It was an obvious excuse to give a series essays on what it means to live in a free world, what it means to live side by side with your fellow human beings, the real nature of tyrants, how to deal with the death of a loved one, why it is important to do what you can for the cause of freedom, and the like.  These flowery speeches would crop up over the course of the movie at seemingly random moments, delivered by random characters.

The movie’s only real saving grace was its lead actor, Mickey Rooney.  He knew how to act, and did a good enough job with the script he was given.  He played Homer Macauley, a high school student who was the model young citizen.  He always did his homework, always excelled in athletics, loved his mother, respected his elders, prayed before every meal, had a job after school to help support his poor family since his father was dead and his older brother had gone off to war.

And that, right there, was the main plot.  The rest of the film was a series of character sketches and random scenes, made up of the peripheral people in his life.  Fay Bainter played his mother.  Frank Morgan played his kindly old co-worker at the telegraph station.  Van Johnson played his brother, Marcus.  James Craig played his boss, Mr. Spangler.  Donna Reed played his sister, Bess.  And the list goes on.

Each person, at one time or another, has a poetic essay to give that effectively interrupts the, admittedly, sparse narrative in an attempt to either inspire the audience to join the war effort, or, at the very least, feel a pang or two of patriotism.  On top of that, throw in a few traditional church hymns, sung by the US Army soldiers, and we’re done.

There just wasn’t any cohesion at all in the plot.  There were entire scenes that made no sense, and characters who would show up from out of nowhere and then disappear just as quickly once their essay had been delivered.  What little story there was seemed forced and predictable.  And the ultra-conservative, “Golly-gee-whiz” dialogue was enough to make me roll my eyes.  It was like they were going out of their way to show us a picture of what a fine, upstanding, church-going community should look like.  Nobody was mean.  Everybody was bursting at the seams to do their part for God and country.  It was “model-citizen” overload.

But two things about the film really got really stuck in my craw.  First was that it broke the cardinal rule.  It committed one of the biggest sins of film-making.  Cute for the sake of cute is never cute.  Never.  Homer’s little brother, Ulysses, played by Jack Jenkins, was a horrible actor.  Not only that, but he wasn’t even cute.  I have no doubt that he was supposed to be, but I’ll be honest – at first, I was afraid that his character was mentally handicapped.  He always had a slack face with a vacant expression.  I know he was only five years old or so, but from his first appearance on the screen, I was annoyed by his high-pitched voice, his dead eyes, and his moronic attempts to be as cute as he could for the cameras.

Second, I have to go over what I’d like the call the ridiculous “It’s a Small World” scene.  There was actually a scene in which Mr. Spangler and his new bride, Diana, played by Marsha Hunt, are driving through the park.  As they slowly cruise along the road, they pass a number of happy, singing, cultural stereotypes, dressed in traditional garb from their native lands, dancing to ethnic tunes.  First were the Greeks, all wearing their fez hats.  Next came the Mexicans, dancing the Flamenco.  “Viva Mexico!” proclaims Diana, like a gringo.  After that came the Armenians, identified by the “priests and the children, because that’s what they believe in.”  Next, the car slowly wheeled past the Russians, who looked like they were dancing straight out of Siberia.  Finally came the Swedes, bouncing around a maypole.  See?  We accept everybody in America.  Funny, but I noticed that there were no Japanese kimonos or German lederhosen to be seen.  “Ok, honey.  Ride’s over.  Why don’t we go to Space Mountain next?”

Good grief!  I honestly can’t think of anything about The Human Comedy that made it worthy of being nominated for Best Picture.  I’m sure it served its purpose as a propaganda film, but I found it ridiculous as anything but a clumsy and heavy-handed plea from Hollywood to join the war effort.  There were even signs in the backgrounds (or sometimes the fore-grounds) of many scenes that said “Buy War Bonds for Victory!”  Next time, chuck the story and just read me the essays.  Best Picture?  I think not!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heaven Can Wait – 1943

This was Ernst Lubitsch’s first color film and he really did a fine job.  Not only was it good to see a competent example of an early color movie, but it had a cute plot that didn’t take itself too seriously, and a good cast of actors.  The main protagonist was played by a young Don Ameche.  Opposite him was the beautiful Gene Tierney, with Spring Byington, Charles Coburn, Marjorie Main, and Eugene Pallette rounding out the supporting cast.

The film was a farce that doubled as a romantic comedy.  The characters were silly and the one-liner jokes were plentiful.  The whole thing started out in a way that made it instantly clear that that the humor would not be very intellectual, nor would it be remotely realistic.  As soon as the annoying old biddy got sucked down to hell for being “naughty” and showing off her old lady legs, I knew I was in for an enjoyable and light-hearted movie

Ameche played Mr. Henry Van Cleve, a kind old man who arrives in Hell’s reception area, asking to be admitted.  The receptionist, His Excellency, played by Laird Cregar, asks Henry why he should be allowed to go to hell, as if it is the hot-spot of the afterlife.  “Would you be good enough to mention, for instance, some outstanding crime you’ve committed?”  Henry responds, “Crime?  Crime?  I’m afraid I can’t think of any, but I can safely say my whole life was one continuous misdemeanor.”

What he means is that he believed himself to be a womanizer, which, of course, was not at all true.  But this is a farce, so we’ll go with it.  Then the main story begins as he tells his life’s story.  In fact, Henry leads a fairly blameless life, but dates a lot of different girls when he reaches his young adulthood.  He develops a habit of hanging out by stage doors and carousing with actresses, which is scandalous, because everyone knows what kind of women those actresses are.

But when he meets the love of his life, Martha, played by Tierney, his womanizing seems to stop.  In fact, he is so crazy about her that he steals her out of her own engagement party and carries her off to elope, much to his cousin the groom’s chagrin.  The two marry and spend many happy years together.  In the end, she dies of some unknown illness, which the film glosses over in the space of five or six seconds.

Henry, now an old man, returns to his old ways, carousing with younger women and actresses.  He dies at the ripe old age of seventy.  Hell’s receptionist turns him away for having led too good a life, saying this his wife and beloved grandfather are waiting for him in “the other place.”  The end.

The film was cute enough, and even had a few great moments that had me laughing out loud.  For example, a quick line delivered from Grandpa Van Cleve, Henry’s Grandfather and mischievous kindred spirit, wonderfully played by Charles Coburn, as he listens to the story of how Henry had been misbehaving.  He had apparently dropped a nickel into the cleavage of an aristocratic old lady as he was trying to impress a young woman.  Grandpa said something like, “I know Mrs. Alister.  We’ll never see that nickel again,” implying either that Mrs. Alister was such a money-grubber that she would never return it to Henry, or that Mrs. Alister’s cleavage was so voluminous that nobody would ever find it.  Either way, I was left laughing.

Now, there was one thing about the plot that I was a little unsure of.  At one point in the film, after the main couple had been together for ten years, Martha leaves him over suspicions that he had been cheating on her.  But when it came to that, it was unclear whether he actually had or not.  She had found a receipt for an expensive bracelet and said that she had never received the jewelry.  It implies that he had cheated, but the film also went out of its way to show how head-over-heels he was for her.  If that was the case, cheating would be out of the question.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Spring Byington playing the part of Henry’s mother, Bertha Van Cleve.  She was silly and blithely ridiculous.  The fact that her son was not feeling well caused her to go into fits of wild tears as if the boy was dying.  As it turned out, he wasn’t even ill.  He was just love-struck, as any young man might be.  Her boohoos got even worse when she found out he was in love with one of those horrible stage actresses.  Byington always does a good job.

The movie was delightful to watch because on top of all the good things I have already mentioned, it didn’t take itself too seriously.  There were sad parts but they were not dwelled upon.  The light-hearted atmosphere and the happy ending were a great contrast to all the serious dramas of the early 1940s, which was, of course, the WWII era.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Whom the Bell Tolls – 1943

On the one hand… Yay Technicolor!  On the other, maybe we should hold off until we get it right.  I know how completely irrational that statement is.  After all, they would never have gotten it right without going through these beginning steps.  It was a necessary process that had to happen before the art of color films could become what they are today.  But all that being said, there were definitely issues with the color.

Just as in the 1937 Best Picture nominee, A Star is Born, everything was too dark unless it was being filmed in direct sunlight.  Much of the film took place either inside a cave or during the hours between dusk and dawn.  It seemed that the filmmakers didn’t really understand the concept of backlighting.  There were times when the actors were nearly too dark to see, though the mountains in the background stood out like a photo-negative.

The film starred Academy Award nominee veteran, Gary Cooper as Roberto Jordan, an American fighting in the Spanish Civil War during the late 1930s.  He is a demolitions expert who is assigned to blow up a strategically valuable bridge.  He is ordered to meet with a republican guerrilla unit in the mountains surrounding the bridge three days before the deed is to take place.  It is supposed to coincide with an air raid by the Soviet Union.

So far, it sounds like an exciting concept that promises plenty of action and suspense.  But I think that Hollywood must have had a hand in what the majority of the film spent time on.  Living with the rebels in their cave is Maria, played by Ingrid Bergman.  She is a young girl who had been gang raped by men of the fascist coalition at the outbreak of the war.

Bergman did a fantastic job portraying the emotions of the damaged Maria.  The scene in which she tells of the deaths of her parents, the humiliation of having her head shaved, and the rape was surprisingly well done.  I really felt for her character.  But her failing was her accent.  She was supposed to be Spanish, and she tried to play her part with an appropriate accent, but her dialogue came out muddled and inconsistent.

However, I’m sorry to say that I thought Cooper to be the film’s weakest link.  I have a feeling that one of the things that made him such a popular actor was his ability to portray the strong, silent type.  He displayed little emotion and always did the right thing, no matter how difficult.  But in this role, I wanted to see something more.  An actor needs to know how to use his facial expressions to make the emotions of the character clear to the audience.  Sure, one could go overboard, as was necessary in the silent era of film making, but his performance was like the opposite extreme.  He was so stone-faced that I got nothing from him at all.

On the flip-side, I really liked two other characters that were integral to the plot.  The leaders of the guerrilla unit were Pablo and his common-law wife, Pilar, brilliantly played by Akim Tamiroff and Katina Paxinou, respectively.  They both did such a fantastic job that in my book, they completely made up for Cooper’s lack of emotion and Bergman’s bad Spanish accent.

Pablo was the weak-willed drunkard who led the rebel band.  Pilar was the homely tower of strength that wrested control from her traitorous husband.  At first I didn’t like Tamiroff, but I eventually realized that it was his character that I didn’t like, and that the actor did a wonderful job of playing the bad guy role.

But it was Paxinou that really stole the show or me.  She was strong, wise, practical, passionate about her position in the war, and able to kick butt with the best of them when the fighting started.  The actress was really memorable and her performance was amazing.  In fact, she won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress that year, an honor that was well deserved.

The first two-thirds of the movie dealt with Roberto’s integration into the guerrilla camp, the romance between Roberto and Maria, and Pablo’s various betrayals.  Everything was character driven, and not much really happened.  But the final third of the movie really kicked up the action.  There were gun fights, air raids, tank battles, and, of course, an exploding bridge, which was exciting to watch.

And as a little afterthought, I need to mention the character of Rafael, the devil-may-care gypsy member of the guerrilla rebels, played by Mikhail Rasumny.  He played a very fun and likable roll.  After all, he was the comic relief and had some amusing moments.  However, the manner of his death ultimately made him out to be a moron.  Watch the film and you’ll see what I mean.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yankee Doodle Dandy – 1942

This was another example of a shameless propaganda movie.  As films go, it had its good points and its bad points, but was completely unapologetic about all of them.  James Cagney played the leading role of George M. Cohan, about whom the film was made.  It was a both a biography and a musical about the man who is often called the father of the American Musical Comedy.

Cohan started performing at a very young age as a singer and dancer on the stages of Vaudeville.  He was clearly a talent to be reckoned with, often out-shining the other three members of The Four Cohans, his father Jerry, played by Walter Huston, his mother Nellie, played by Rosemary DeCamp, and his sister Josie, played by Cagney’s real-life sister, Jeanne Cagney.

It is also clear that he has an ego to match his talent.  His boasting and bravado is so out of control that he ruins one opportunity after another for his family to move on to better stages.  During his teen years, he meets, falls in love with, and nearly ruins the career of the beautiful Mary, played by Joan Leslie.  Despite this, they marry, giving her the opportunity to bring his ego in check.  That accomplished, his career takes off.

He partners up with playwright Sam Harris, played by Richard Whorf.  Their collaborations are very successful and they both become very rich men.  Eventually, The Four Cohans break up their act and George goes solo.  He continues to write one hit song after another, many of them, like the song Yankee Doodle Dandy, having very patriotic themes.  More fame and more money comes his way.  WWI arrives and he writes patriotic anthems that inspire the nation.

In the end, his partnership with Harris dissolves amicably, both men ready to go their separate ways.  George retires with his wife to live in the country, away from the public eye, that is, until Harris asks him for help by starring in his latest play.  He accepts, and returns to the stage.  And that’s the movie, in a nutshell.

But here’s the trick.  The entire movie actually started with that performance, in which he played the current President, FDR.  After the opening night’s curtain falls, he is mysteriously summoned to the White House by the “real” Roosevelt and asked to tell the story of his life.  So the movie is really a flash-back.  I didn’t mind that so much, except that the actor who played President Roosevelt got on my nerves.  His lines were all delivered like the voice-over guy that you hear on all the action trailers of movies in the 1930s and 40s.  His tone and inflection stood out to me as unnatural and distracting.  Apparently, impressionist Art Gilmore provided that voice, which makes me wonder if FDR really sounded like that.  If he did, I just want to hear the former President say, “Come see the greatest film of the year!  Thrills, chills and spills!”

And while I’m on the subject of things that I didn’t like about the film, I have to mention Cagney himself.  I’ll admit that this is the first movie I have ever seen starring James Cagney, and I have to say that I didn’t particularly care for his dancing style or his singing style.  However, I learned that not only was it not his fault, he actually did a remarkable job.

Here’s why: Cagney’s dancing looked a bit ridiculous to my modern eyes.  There was a bit of tap, which I didn’t mind, and a lot of moves done where he bent forward at the waist without bending his knees.  It was a style that made him appear to move like a marionette puppet without strings.  It made his dancing look stiff and jerky.  His singing was also very minimal.  He spoke his way through most of the songs in an annoying, high-pitched voice.

But in my research, I found that he was, in both ways, imitating the real George Cohan’s style.  Apparently he imitated the famous vaudeville trained performer very well, so I have to give Cagney’s performance my approval, even though I didn’t care for the style itself.  In fact, Cagney won the Academy Award for Best Actor that year.

Aside from that, I liked Richard Whorf and Jeanne Cagney.  They stood out to me as good actors in their respective roles.  I also liked a number of the songs, which were, for the most part, the songs that the real George Cohan was famous for writing: songs like Yankee Doodle Dandy, Over There, While Strolling Through the Park One Day, and You’re a Grand Old Flag.  The film and the songs were designed to overflow with patriotism.  Unfortunately, it sometimes felt a little forced, but I guess I can be forgiving.  After all, the production on the film had barely begun when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wake Island – 1942

This was a film of contradictions.  There were some really awesome things, but at the same time, there were some incredibly stupid things.  Some of the characters were great while others were idiotic.  Some were characters and others were caricatures.  But overall, the filmmakers told a good story.  The scenes of war and battle were exciting enough and well-executed.

The film is a war film that told a fictionalized story of the men who defended Wake Island, a tiny island in the Pacific near Guam and Hawaii.  It was occupied by American forces at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor.  During the narration at the beginning of the movie, the filmmakers went out of their way to announce to the audience that the events in the film are as accurate as they could be, and except for the ending, they were pretty accurate.

According to the film, the same day as the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the Japanese sent ships and fighter planes to attack Wake Island.  The men defending the island really proved their superior toughness as they defended the military outpost, one attack after another, day after day, week after week.  They withstood everything the Japanese forces could throw at them, fighting to the death to the last man.

However, in reality, there was only one bombing on December 8, one battle on December 11, and the American surrender on December 23.  Though the defending garrison really put up an incredible fight, they were overwhelmed by superior numbers.  They repelled several ground assaults before being overrun.  But by the end of the battle, the Americans had no choice but to surrender.

Now, here is what was really impressive about the real battle.  According to Wikipedia, “The American casualties numbered 52 military personnel and approximately 70 civilians killed.  The Japanese losses exceeded 700 dead with some estimates ranging as high as 1,000.  Wake’s defenders sank two Japanese destroyers and one submarine, and shot down 24 Japanese aircraft.”

Granted, a lot of that was shown, though the impressive numbers were not.  The film spent too much time trying to humanize the plot.  Instead of concentrating on the exciting fighting or the real aftermath of the conflict, they gave us the stories of 4 different men.  There was the vapid story about Pvt. Randall, a dumb brawler with a patriotic heart, played by William Bendix, and his friend, Pvt. Doyle, played by a very young Robert Preston.  There was the story of the civilian construction worker, Shad McClosky, played by Albert Dekker, a man who wouldn’t take orders from any military personnel, but showed his true red, white, and blue colors when the fighting started.  And finally there was the story of Major Caton, played by Brian Donlevy, the officer who shouldered the burden of command and inspired his troops to achieve greatness.

Randall’s story wasn’t believable.  He was a former wrestler whose answer to every personal conflict was to start a fist fight, and Doyle wasn’t much better.  The real Marine Corps would not tolerate that kind of behavior and he would be arrested after the first incident.  McClosky’s story was more palatable.  Sure, he was a civilian, resistant to taking orders, but when it came down to it, he died fighting like everyone else.  But it was really the character of Major Caton that gave the film its best drama.  As the commanding officer, it must have been difficult to stand strong in the path of the enemy, knowing that defeat was a certainty.  Donlevy did a great job in the roll, giving the performance a sense of gravitas and unwavering patriotism.

I mean, think about it.  The film was released in 1942.  WWII was still in full swing.  The real events of Wake Island had only taken place 9 months earlier.  This film was meant to inspire people to support the war effort, plain and simple.  If I had any complaints about the movie, it would only be about something that offended my modern sensibilities, though in 1942 it must have been effective as anti-Japanese propaganda.  The Japanese people were portrayed as sinister, evil villains.  I found myself rolling my eyes at Rudy Robles’ portrayal of Triunfo, the Japanese ambassador who professed peace with his exaggerated squinty eyes and buck teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Talk of the Town – 1942

Here is another example of a film that I watched without knowing anything about the plot.  All I knew was that it starred Carrey Grant, and that was good, because I generally like him as an actor.  He has a very carefree charm and a disarming smile.  I knew that it also had Ronald Coleman who has done a fair bit of acting in previous Best Picture nominees like A Tale of Two Cities and Lost Horizon.

But I’m sorry to say that this, without putting too fine a point on it, was a very dumb movie.  The plot was ridiculous, the character development was non-existent, the characters themselves were all morons and completely un-believable, the acting was iffy, at best, and the directing was horrible.  How this ever got nominated for the coveted Best Picture award is beyond me.  I know, those are some pretty strong words, but I can site example after example to illustrate why everything I said is true.  But where to start?

OK, I understand that the film was trying to be a screwball comedy, but it took itself far too seriously for that.  I couldn’t say it was a drama because it was too farcical and silly.  It had small moments of being preachy and even smaller moments of being suspenseful.  I don’t think the director, George Stevens, really had a clear idea of what kind of film he was trying to make.  And the only clear message that I got out of the film was that it was a philosophical study of the age old argument between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law.  But even that point was muddled.  Add to that the fact that there was an obvious line flub or two that were not edited out or re-shot.  It just looked to me like poor directing.

Carrey Grant played escaped convict Leopold Dilg.  Dilg was supposed to have been a smart man who made a habit of using his head to think with his heart, if that makes sense.  In other words, he was an intellectual who had passionate views about how there are times that strict adherence to the letter of the law is cold and unfeeling to the human beings it is supposed to protect.  Laws are detrimental to society when they are not tempered with compassion.

Coleman played Professor Michael Lightcap, a scholar of the law that believed in strict adherence to the letter of the law, even if doing so might convict an innocent man to death.  Without such a staunch attitude, society would crumble into utter chaos.  When Dilg hides in the attic of a house which the Professor has rented, the two opposing sides clash.

But I’ll need to back-up for a moment, lest I forget Jean Arthur.  She played the woman from whom the house is being rented, Nora Shelly.  She knows of her childhood friend, Dilg, who is hiding-out in the attic.

OK, here is where the plot and the characters really started to stand out as preposterous.  Dilg is supposed to be an escaped convict and there is an active man-hunt under way.  He behaves as if he is on a summer holiday.  He wakes up and stands at his window slapping his chest, smelling the air of a free man.  Wrong!  He is on the run from the law!  A smart man would avoid windows!  Then, he reveals himself to Professor Lightcap, posing as the gardner.  Of course, there is no way Lightcap might see his picture on the front page of the local newspaper, right?

Miss shelly was just a dumb woman with a penchant for lying from the very beginning, though both men inexplicably wanted to marry the bimbo by the end of the film.  The only explanation I can think of for that is that the studio wanted their romance, and they got it, whether it made sense or not.

And the character of Lightcap was the most farcical one of all.  During the film, he is informed that he is going to be asked by the President of the United States to become the next Supreme Court Judge.  He has a spotless record behind him, and all he has to do is avoid scandal until he gets his appointment.  So what does he do?  Because he grows to like both Dilg and the lovely Miss Shelly, he lies to the police, investigates Dilg’s bogus case, finds him innocent, and helps him avoid being caught by the police again.

But that’s not all.  He also becomes an armed vigilante, captures the real criminal at gunpoint, and forces him into the courtroom during Dilg’s mock trial.  To get the attention of the angry mob that is out for Dilg’s blood, he FIRES THE GUN IN THE COURTROOM!  HE IS STANDING A FEW FEET AWAY FROM THE JUDGE!  WRONG! WRONG!  He would be probably be tackled by armed security guards, arrested and his career as a Supreme Court Judge would be at an end before it even started.  But you know that would never happen in Hollywood-land!  He is appointed anyway.

A good screwball comedy should still have its roots firmly based in reality while strange and funny things happen.  It allows the characters to react to zany situations believably.  This wasn’t even close.  Oh well.  They can’t all be winners.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random Harvest – 1942

I must admit to having my doubts about this one.  Before watching the film, I read only the following synopsis:  “Wounded World War I soldier Charles has no memory of his past, and when he meets Paula, he’s certain she’s the one for him. They marry, but Charles is hit by a car, regains his memory of his life before Paula, and loses all memory of Paula. He returns to his wealthy relatives, and a desperate Paula takes a job as his secretary to be near him in this tragic romantic drama.”

The first thought that came to me was that complete amnesia caused by head trauma is an extremely rare thing.  Second, more head trauma can only cause more damage to the brain, not produce a miraculous cure.  Third, the complete amnesia would have to effectively occur twice if he completely forgets the “second” life he created for himself after the first injury.  The entire scenario just sounded utterly farcical.

But I watched the film anyway, deciding to give Ronald Coleman and Greer Garson a chance.  As long as you can throw reality out the window, you will be able to enjoy the film.  Coleman and Garson both did a good job with the script they were given.  After all, the movie wasn’t about the scientific nature of extreme brain injuries and the long term effects of retrograde amnesia.

It was a romance, first and foremost.  And as romances go, I liked the way their relationship was slowly built and gently portrayed.  By the end of the movie, I found myself emotionally invested in the characters, hoping that they would find their ways back to each other.  Of course, they did, though only seconds before the movie ended.

In particular, I liked Ronald Coleman’s performance as the amnesic Charles Rainier, especially in the beginning.  The way he seemed to struggle with confusion, emotional stress, and social anxiety was particularly well acted.  After meeting Paula, played by Garson, he begins to slowly gain the confidence he needs to face the outside world again, though it didn’t happen all at once.  If I had any complaints about him, it would be that he seemed just a little too old for the part, but it didn’t bother me that much.

Garson also did a fine job.  She was gorgeous and had a magnificent poise about her.  However, I have a little problem with her character.  Garson acted the part just fine, but the writer needed to explain things a bit more to make Paula’s willingness to abandon her career for a stranger who can barely bring himself to speak to her, let alone anyone else.  Did she have a history of having a soft spot for men in need of help, or was it simply love at first sight?  Why did she feel such a strong emotional connection with this man whom she had just met?

After watching the film, I did a little more research, and found that there were several significant changes between the original novel, written by James Hilton, and the film.  Only one of these changes had any bearing on the character of Paula, and it is a pretty understandable one.  In the novel, it isn’t revealed until the very end, that Paula and Margaret Hanson are the same woman.  Such a thing couldn’t be done in a movie because the audience would see the same actress in both roles.

But I’ll be honest, I think that this change improved the story dramatically.  As the audience, we are aware that they are the same woman, and thus we see exactly what kind of emotional roller-coaster her character has to go through as Charles’s secretary and then political wife, before Charles finally remembers her as Paula in the end.  It made me feel for her character so much more deeply than I would have had I not known.

Another change was concerning the character of Kitty, played by Susan Peters.  In the film, Charles remembers who he is and forgets Paula and his baby.  He meets and nearly marries a young woman named Kitty.  But less than a day before the wedding, she looks into his eyes as he hears the music played when he had wed Paula.  Though he cannot understand why the music sounds so familiar to him, he nonetheless feels that there is something still missing in his life.  In his eyes, Kitty recognizes the doubt and longing for something that isn’t her.  She calls the wedding off and leaves him.  In the novel, she still leaves him but is also subsequently killed off.

I enjoyed the romantic aspect of this film, and I thought the two leads both did a good job.  Just remember that reality needs to be left behind.  The name of the game is, “suspension of disbelief.”  And just as an afterthought, suspension of disbelief is a phrase that can also easily apply to Greer Garson’s dancing in her stage show.  We can pretend that she was a good dancer for the sake of the plot.  At least she had great legs and a short skirt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pride of the Yankees – 1942

Gary Cooper takes the lead again, this time in a film based on the life of baseball legend, Lou Gehrig.  I’ve never been a big fan of the sport, but even I know a great player when I see one, or at least see an actor playing him on the screen.  Gehrig was apparently one of the greats.  He was more than just a sports super-star.  He was apparently a model example of what a fine, upstanding, American citizen should be.  He was kind, generous, honest, loyal to his wife, and good at the sport.

But we all know tragedy that took him out of the game after 16 years as a professional athlete.  He contracted a disease called amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in 1938.  The debilitating illness was not common knowledge at the time, and since then, owing to the fact that he was such a famous public figure, the disease has been named after him.  Lou Gehrig’s Disease is a neurodegenerative disorder which causes increasing weakness due to muscles that atrophy.  Death is usually cause by the weakening of the muscles needed to breath.  Most people with Lou Gehrig’s disease show symptoms in their 60s.  Lou died from the disorder at the age of 37.

OK, enough of the biology lesson, and on to Cooper’s performance.  I’ll be honest.  I have developed a modicum of respect for Gary Cooper as an actor, but I am beginning to get tired of seeing him play the insanely naïve country bumpkin with the heart of gold.  Sure, that was the character of Gehrig for most of the film, but come on, Cooper.  Branch out and try something different.  But I suppose it wasn’t his fault.  He produced what the movie-going public of the 1930s and 40s wanted to see, and the studios went out of their way to see that he did.  They would never cast him in a darker role, such as a murderer.  Studio execs thought that it would ruin his image and cause bad box office results.

That being said, Cooper did just fine.  As far as my research could tell me, he remained true to the real-life Gehrig.  I was entertained by the film, but I think that the end fell pretty flat, and here’s why.  I think that the two most inspirational things about the life of Lou Gehrig were his phenomenal career as a professional baseball player, and his positive attitude in the face of his illness.

However, the film was roughly two hours and ten minutes long.  But if you could separate the normally flowing narrative into its different subplots, I’d estimate that it spent about 20 minutes on his childhood and college years, an hour on his career, 40 minutes on his romance and marriage, and 10 minutes on his illness.  In fact there was a completely unnecessary scene in which he is out on a date with his girl, during which the audience is treated to the stage show that the couple is watching.  About 7 or 8 minutes of singing and dancing that had nothing to do with the plot whatsoever, could have been cut from the movie and nothing would have been lost.

The wonderful Teresa Wright played his wife Eleanor.  She is a great actress that I never tire of watching.  As usual, she was incredible, and she was able to handle both happy scenes and the sad ones with equal depth and sensitivity, though it was the later scenes that allowed her talents to really shine.

The film did a good job of getting a lot of the details of the real Gehrig’s life right.  But one change that was made to make the movie more dramatic than reality, was that the film had Gehrig hiding the prognosis of his illness from his wife.  But she was no dummy and figured out that he only had a few years left to live.  Knowing that he didn’t want her to know, she pretended that she was ignorant of the severity of his condition.  They ended up lying to each other.  In reality, she was right there with him, supporting him and caring for him until the end.  The sub-plot of lies in the last few minutes of the movie seemed to cheapen things for me.

Another interesting aspect of the film is the fact that the real Babe Ruth, another baseball legend who played with Gehrig, played himself in the film.  He did a good enough job, mostly because he didn’t have to act much, but it was interesting to see him try.  And lets fact it.  He was not an attractive man.  Maybe they should have cast Wallace Beery.

I’m giving Pride of the Yankees a mixed review.  Cooper did his same old shtick, but did it well.  Wright was amazingly good, as usual.  But I think that less time should have been spent on Gehrig’s romance with Eleanor, and more time should have been devoted to his illness.  It would have been a better and more dramatic film.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pied Piper – 1942

This was a cute little movie that was simple Hollywood propaganda, championing the war effort.  It was based on a novel of the same name by Nevil Shute.  Honestly, this was a difficult movie to find, and though I watched the entire film, the only version I could track down was a very imperfect copy on Youtube.  Unfortunately, only the center of the film’s picture was visible.  The outer edges were lost.  The tops of people’s heads and faces were often missing, making it difficult to read the expressions on the actors’ faces.  But it was a short film, coming in at only an hour and ten minutes.  It will do for now.

The film starred Monty Woolley as John Sidney Howard, a seventy year old Englishman whose son has already died in the war.  As he is vacationing in France, the German military begin their invasion and John decides to return to England to do what he can to help the war effort.  But at his hotel, there is another British family, Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh, along with their two children, Ronnie, played by Roddy McDowall, and Sheila, played by Peggy Ann Garner.

Mr. Howard is asked and agrees to take the children back to England with him.  But their journey is quickly derailed when their train is stopped at Dijon.  Without asking, an old woman sends her niece, Rose, played by Fleurette Zama with him, along with an address.  Suddenly he has another child to care for.  While they are on foot with a large crowd of refugees, a German air raid guns everyone down.  John and his charges narrowly escape injury.  As they continue walking, John discovers that a young boy whose parents were just killed in the raid has joined their party.  He is Pierre, played by Maurice Tauzin.

And finally, a fifth child, Willem, played by Merrill Rodin, shows up from out of nowhere.  This one is the weirdest one because the film gives absolutely no explanation as to where he came from or why he was with them.  However, I did a little research, and found that in the original novel, he was a Dutch boy who was being attacked by panicking French villagers who mistake him for a German.  That’s pretty messed up and I can see why they took it out.

In desperation, Mr. Howard goes to a French woman he barely knows named Nicole Rougeron, played by Anne Baxter.  She agrees to help John for the sake of the children, and because she had once been in love with John’s dead son.  They make arrangements to cross the Channel in a fishing boat.  But in a terrible misfortune, a German guard hears one of the children speaking English, and they are all arrested.  The Nazis interrogate Mr. Howard, completely discounting his story, and accusing him of being a British spy.

But all is made well in the end because the Gestapo’s Major Dissen, played by Otto Preminger, has a niece named Anna played by Julika.  Her parents are both dead, but she has an uncle living in Rochester, New York.  On the condition that Mr. Howard secretly ensures that Anna is delivered to the United States, he eventually lets them all go, keeping Nicole as a hostage until the child’s safe arrival has been confirmed.

The concept for the plot was cute enough, if a little contrived and forced.  Unfortunately, by its very nature, the film broke my cardinal sin of movie making.  Cute for the sake of cute is never cute.  Never.  But as I said, this was a propaganda film.  It simply used the vehicle of a pack of adorable little children to spout their pro-American, anti-German position, painting the Allies as heroes and saints, and the Nazis as evil murderers.  We Americans don’t have any prejudices.  We will care for every child in need without question or hesitation.  And the Germans, who would never do something nice for anyone, could not believe that Americans were such good people.  See how much better than them we are?

It seemed to me, based on other films in which I have seen Monty Woolley, he was simply playing himself.  Nothing new or unexpected from him.  Anne Baxter was good, as usual.  She had her little dramatic moment as she remembers her time spent with Mr. Howard’s son, giving the story that prerequisite Hollywood romance angle, if only briefly.  Preminger was good, though a little one-note.  I’ll also give the movie a little credit for taking an unexpected turn when the air-raid gunned down all the refugees.  But then I had to roll my eyes just a little when little Rose crosses herself at the sight of the dead bodies.  How precious!

The movie was alright, though nothing to write home about.  But that year it was up against some pretty stiff competition.  The 1942 Best Picture winner, Mrs. Miniver, the 49^th Parallel, Kings Row, and Pride of the Yankees, among others, were better movies.  So I’m not surprised The Pied Piper didn’t win, though it was nominated for a total of three Academy Awards.  The other two were for Monty Wooley for Best Actor, and Best Cinematography, Black and White.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Magnificent Ambersons – 1942

I have a lot to say about this film which was directed by Orson Wells, some of it good, but most of it bad.  I had a difficult time enjoying it.  The biggest problem was that I didn’t like any of the characters.  It was about a family in the final days of the horse-drawn carriage that was so wealthy that they felt entitled to be mean to everyone, even those they professed to love.

It was based on Booth Tarkington’s Pulitzer prize-winning novel of the same name.  Directed by Orson Wells, who we remember from his cinematic triumph Citizen Kane from 1940, the Magnificent Ambersons was a dark and depressing film.  Some of his stylistic choices seemed to be an attempt to be too deep and dramatic.  The result was a movie that took itself way too seriously.  There was no joy in it at all.  For example, he would cut off scenes too quickly, making the scene changes abrupt and jarring.  He made a lot of the lighting very dim and sometimes downright dark.  He made use of heavy shadows which sometimes made characters difficult to see clearly.  He used camera angles that looked up at the actors, as if we, the viewers were small and insignificant to them.

The cast was headed by Tim Holt, playing the part of George Minafer-Amberson.  Because he was raised by a mother who spoiled him and a father who never disciplined him, he learned that there were never any consequences for his actions.  He had no regard for anyone, least of all his own family.  He thoughtlessly said whatever his selfish whims dictated and couldn’t understand why his words hurt anyone’s feelings.

His mother, Isabel, played by Dolores Costello, was selfish, weak-willed, and all but oblivious to the world around her.  Living in the Amberson mansion along with them, even after the death of George’s father, was Aunt Fanny, played by Agnes Moorhead.  She was prone to manic fits of the “poor me” syndrome, a true agony aunt.  Also living in the mansion was Uncle Jack, played by Ray Collins.  He was sort of a grumpy old codger who didn’t have much of a personality at all.

You begin to get the picture.  I didn’t like any of the characters and so had a hard time identifying with any of them.  George would say things that would insult people right to their faces, and what made it worse was the fact that nobody ever really called him on it.  They even made a point of saying “It’s OK.  It’s not his fault he is so mean.  It was the way he was raised, after all.”

But there was a slight breath of fresh air in the beautiful face and pleasant personality of the girl George fell in love with.  She was Lucy Morgan, played by Anne Baxter.  At first, she was fascinated with the carefree young aristocrat, but eventually, she realized just how much of a jerk he was.  When he tried to make her feel bad by saying that he was going away and would probably never see her again, her response was wonderful.  She casually and cheerfully said, “OK, have a nice life.”  Good for her.

As the Amberson’s wealth dwindled, Lucy’s father Eugene Morgan, played by Joseph Cotton, an inventor, and Isabel’s love interest, became wealthy, developing an automobile business.  The film tried to examine the social implications of the rise of industry, but I think it missed the mark.  It just made the point that George didn’t like cars or the people who were in favor of them.  But even that concept was overshadowed by the fact that the main proponent of automobiles was the man who was replacing his dead father in his mother’s affections.  It just made the intended social commentary turn into George being childish and angry because Mommy loved Daddy and should never love anyone else.

It is interesting to note that Wells tried to drastically change the ending from the source material, making it darker and more depressing.  However RKO Studios sent Wells out of the country to work on another film and while he was gone, they re-shot and changed the end back to the happier ending that was in the novel.  The Amberson’s money is all gone and George is forced to get a job to care for Aunt Fanny.  He is hit by a car and breaks both his legs.  He apologizes to Eugene for destroying his relationship with Isabel, thus implying that he is now a good person.  No!  Wrong!  A lifetime of being a jerk is not wiped away by one apology, given only because his legs have been broken.  Bad author!!  Wells’ ending was probably better.