This one-reel slapstick comedy, directed by D.W. Griffith for the Biograph company, is notable today as one of the very first films to be shot in Hollywood. The premise finds respectable gentleman Adonese (Arthur V. Johnson) attracting the attention of the good but simple-minded Faithful (future comedy producer Mack Sennett) after knocking him down and buying him a new suit. Faithful is so moved by this act of kindness that he follows Adonese everywhere, much to the latter's dismay. The film's plot is standard farce, no doubt inspired by the French comedies of the Pathe company that had already inspired earlier Griffith comedies made back East.
Griffith began taking his company West in the winter of 1910, and this film reveals the variety of locations that he found available to him upon his arrival. There are shots looking toward the Hollywood Hills and, later, a shot taken from the top of the hills looking down at the area that is now Hollywood Blvd. The film was shot by Griffith's long-time cinematographer Billy Bitzer. Griffith was working in many different genres at this point in his career, cranking films out to keep up with the demand. Just a couple of years after making this film, Mack Sennett would turn from acting to heading up America's first great comedy factory.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
Stylish, atomic age, hard-boiled detective thriller featuring Mickey Spillane's private eye "Mike Hammer" (played here by Ralph Meeker) as he tries to solve the murder of the mysterious Christina Bailey (Cloris Leachman). Meeker's cold, violent portrayal of Mike Hammer seems worlds apart from screen detectives of just a decade prior, acting by any means necessary to get the information he's looking for, without any particular sense of honor or ethics. Director Robert Aldrich establishes a mood of heightened paranoia, aided by Ernest Laszlo's stark, high-contrast B&W cinematography. Gaby Rodgers is especially effective as the duplicitous Lily Carver, aka Gabrielle, who leads Hammer in pursuit of the plot's MacGuffin - a radioactive device referred to only as "the great whatsit" - whose diabolical contents are finally revealed in the film's nearly apocalyptic finale.
Spirited Away (2002)
I'm not normally a fan of Japanese anime - or animated films in general for that matter - so I had not yet seen any of the Hayao Miyazaki films, despite hearing great things about them. I finally saw SPIRITED AWAY and have rarely been so taken with a film after a first viewing. The powerful sincerity of its pathos never relies on cheap or manipulative sentimentality like so many "family" films. The beautiful animation from the team at Studio Ghibli is a splendid thing to behold, creating its own universe populated with unique and distinctive characters in the service of telling a powerful and moving story. This was the first Miyazaki film I have seen but I plan to see more of his work now.
Monday, February 10, 2014
A Night in Casablanca (1946)
Late Marx Bros. comedy is also probably their best film since A DAY AT THE RACES. A mild parody of the Humphrey Bogart classic, the film really has more to do with the Brothers on the trail of a Nazi war criminal (played by expert comedic foil Sig Ruman) trying to smuggle stolen art out of Casablanca.
The film features some of Groucho's best lines (his scene at the hotel desk with a Mr. and Mrs. Smyth is a highlight), Harpo has some great sight gags (contributed by an uncredited Frank Tashlin), and Chico has a fun piano solo performing "Beer Barrel Polka". Also features the Bert Kalmar-Harry Ruby tune "Who's Sorry Now?"
Directed by Archie Mayo, written by Joseph Fields and and Roland Kibbee. Also starring Charles Drake, Lois Collier, Lisette Verea, Dan Seymour, and others.
The film features some of Groucho's best lines (his scene at the hotel desk with a Mr. and Mrs. Smyth is a highlight), Harpo has some great sight gags (contributed by an uncredited Frank Tashlin), and Chico has a fun piano solo performing "Beer Barrel Polka". Also features the Bert Kalmar-Harry Ruby tune "Who's Sorry Now?"
Directed by Archie Mayo, written by Joseph Fields and and Roland Kibbee. Also starring Charles Drake, Lois Collier, Lisette Verea, Dan Seymour, and others.
Sunday, February 09, 2014
Gangster Story (1959)
When Woody Allen made TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN, he must have had this film in mind, which features a plot device of a bank robber staging a heist by pretending to be filming a movie about a bank robbery. Except this premise is rendered entirely ludicrous here by the fact that there is no crew or equipment present, and indeed no indication whatsoever that a filming is actually in progress, even as the robber walks out carrying a sack of money, waving to the policemen, and driving off.
That gives some idea of the rest of the film, about a gangster (played by Walter Matthau in a performance that resembles a cross between Humphrey Bogart and Ned Sparks) whose brilliant heist plan attracts the attention of some mobsters (who are about as menacing as the Bowery Boys) that want to recruit him for their scheme to rob a country club. The film is filled with such ridiculous scenes as Matthau knocking a man out and stealing his car in the middle of a crowded parking lot, killing a man on a golf course with a club, and wheeling the safe out of the country club office in broad daylight.
This was the first - and only - film directed by Walter Matthau. Unfortunately the direction is highly inept, including mismatched day-for-night shots, violating the 180 degree rule, and an entirely post-dubbed soundtrack that has the result of giving all of the dialogue an oddly-paced, clipped style that is unnatural and distracting. The acting is amateurish and even Matthau comes off quite poorly here. The most interesting part of the film is its extensive location footage of late '50s LA, but even the photography is so mediocre that there isn't anything particularly effective done with any of it.
Directed by Walter Matthau. Written by Paul Purcell from a story by Richard Grey and V.J. Rhems. Edited by Radley Metzger. Starring Matthau, Carol Grace, Bruce MacFarlane, Gerrett Wallberg, Raiken BenAri, David Leonard and others.
That gives some idea of the rest of the film, about a gangster (played by Walter Matthau in a performance that resembles a cross between Humphrey Bogart and Ned Sparks) whose brilliant heist plan attracts the attention of some mobsters (who are about as menacing as the Bowery Boys) that want to recruit him for their scheme to rob a country club. The film is filled with such ridiculous scenes as Matthau knocking a man out and stealing his car in the middle of a crowded parking lot, killing a man on a golf course with a club, and wheeling the safe out of the country club office in broad daylight.
This was the first - and only - film directed by Walter Matthau. Unfortunately the direction is highly inept, including mismatched day-for-night shots, violating the 180 degree rule, and an entirely post-dubbed soundtrack that has the result of giving all of the dialogue an oddly-paced, clipped style that is unnatural and distracting. The acting is amateurish and even Matthau comes off quite poorly here. The most interesting part of the film is its extensive location footage of late '50s LA, but even the photography is so mediocre that there isn't anything particularly effective done with any of it.
Directed by Walter Matthau. Written by Paul Purcell from a story by Richard Grey and V.J. Rhems. Edited by Radley Metzger. Starring Matthau, Carol Grace, Bruce MacFarlane, Gerrett Wallberg, Raiken BenAri, David Leonard and others.
Friday, February 07, 2014
The Cocoanuts (1929)
The Marx Brothers made their screen debut in this filming of their 1925 Broadway hit. A satire on the Florida land boom of the '20s, this early talkie appears rather quaint now. Due to the constraints of shooting for sound film, the pacing often seems slightly off, and the overall energy lacking. The comedy holds up well enough, though, and the film features one of the Marxes' most frequently quoted bits, the "Why a duck?" routine.
Margaret Dumont reprises her stage role as the wealthy Mrs. Potter, and Kay Francis makes an early appearance as a villainous but seductive thief. The romantic leads are bland but inoffensive. The music numbers (with songs by Irving Berlin) are generally creaky and unmemorable, with the exception of the bizarre "Monkey Doodle Doo".
Directed by Joseph Santley and Robert Florey. Adapted by Morrie Ryskind from the stage play by George S. Kaufman. Also featuring Oscar Shaw, Mary Eaton, Cyril Ring, and Basil Ruysdael.
Margaret Dumont reprises her stage role as the wealthy Mrs. Potter, and Kay Francis makes an early appearance as a villainous but seductive thief. The romantic leads are bland but inoffensive. The music numbers (with songs by Irving Berlin) are generally creaky and unmemorable, with the exception of the bizarre "Monkey Doodle Doo".
Directed by Joseph Santley and Robert Florey. Adapted by Morrie Ryskind from the stage play by George S. Kaufman. Also featuring Oscar Shaw, Mary Eaton, Cyril Ring, and Basil Ruysdael.
Wednesday, February 05, 2014
A Day at the Races (1937)
The general consensus among comedy fans seems to be that when the Marx Bros. signed with MGM in 1935, their films were robbed of the pure anarchic spirit that marked their earlier films for Paramount. While it's true that producer Irving Thalberg softened their characters (and added an emphasis on the supporting romantic couple and lavish musical numbers) in order to broaden their audience appeal, the first two films the team made for MGM under Thalberg's supervision remain two of the finest films that they appeared in.
A DAY AT THE RACES does contain excessive padding, especially in the "Water Carnival" sequence, but there are also several excellent comedy sequences that rank among the Marxes' finest: the "Tootsie Fruitsie" ice cream routine, the examination scene, and especially Groucho's tour-de-force phone call bit where he poses as the blustering and befuddled Col. Hawkins. The brothers are supported by expert foils including the incomparable Margaret Dumont and Sig Rumann. It's a handsomely-produced and highly entertaining combination of comedy and music, even if it does go on a little too long.
Directed by Sam Wood; written by Robert Pirosh, George Seaton and George Oppenheimer from a story by Pirosh and Seaton, with uncredited material by Al Boasberg, Leon Gordon and George S. Kaufman. Also featuring Maureen O'Sullivan, Allan Jones, Douglas Dumbrille, Leonard Ceeley, Esther Muir, and others.
A DAY AT THE RACES does contain excessive padding, especially in the "Water Carnival" sequence, but there are also several excellent comedy sequences that rank among the Marxes' finest: the "Tootsie Fruitsie" ice cream routine, the examination scene, and especially Groucho's tour-de-force phone call bit where he poses as the blustering and befuddled Col. Hawkins. The brothers are supported by expert foils including the incomparable Margaret Dumont and Sig Rumann. It's a handsomely-produced and highly entertaining combination of comedy and music, even if it does go on a little too long.
Directed by Sam Wood; written by Robert Pirosh, George Seaton and George Oppenheimer from a story by Pirosh and Seaton, with uncredited material by Al Boasberg, Leon Gordon and George S. Kaufman. Also featuring Maureen O'Sullivan, Allan Jones, Douglas Dumbrille, Leonard Ceeley, Esther Muir, and others.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Burstup Holmes' Murder Case (1913)
The proliferation of screen adaptations of Sherlock Holmes stories in the early years of the 20th century soon lent themselves to parody, such as this two-reel farce comedy directed by Alice Guy at her Solax studio in Fort Lee, NJ. A fun send-up of the Holmes mysteries with some broad physical humor.
Starring Fraunie Fraunholz, Darwin Karr, and Blanche Cornwall.
Starring Fraunie Fraunholz, Darwin Karr, and Blanche Cornwall.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Silent Sherlock
THE COPPER BEECHES (1912)
Early Sherlock Holmes screen adaptation notable for being made under the personal supervision of Arthur Conan Doyle (as well as the first to be authorized by Doyle). It is the only remaining entry in a series of eight episodic Holmes films produced by the Eclair company. This one is short on action and long on exposition, with some scenes playing out more like a series of tableaux representing key moments in the story. Despite the static camerawork and staging, there is a great deal of attention paid to the set design of Holmes' flat at 221B Baker Street, and some nice location photography as well.
Holmes is played here by Georges Tréville, and his performance is interesting to watch considering that it predates not only the iconic performances of Basil Rathbone or Jeremy Brett, but even those of actors like Ellie Norwood or Arthur Wontner who helped to shape the character. Still, Tréville does a good job, especially given the limitations of the production, and embodies many of the traits as described by Doyle.
Directed by Adrien Caillard from the story by Arthur Conan Doyle. Starring Georges Tréville.
THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP (1921)
"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes", a series of films produced in the early 1920s by Stoll Picture Productions, is regarded as one of the first adaptations to really do justice to Doyle's stories. Eille Norwood starred as Holmes in all 47 films (and holds the record for having played the character on screen the most number of times). Three of the films in the series are available on the Internet Archive.
The first of them, "The Man with the Twisted Lip", dates from 1921 and, if it is any indication, demonstrates that the producers got a lot of things right in adapting the stories to the screen. Running just 26 minutes, it is also indicative of the serialized format in which these films were released. Eille Norwood makes a fine Holmes and his performance stands up well against later interpretations. The film is a stylish one, featuring strong high-contrast, shadowy cinematography, and also makes good use of authentic London locations, which provide a fascinating glimpse into the period. There are some startlingly inventive shots, such as an apparent murder played out in silhouette against a lighted window. All in all, a solid mystery film and a must for Holmes fans.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliott from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; photographed by Germain Burger. Starring Eille Norwood, Hubert Willis, Robert Vallis, and Paulette del Baze.
THE DEVIL'S FOOT (1921)
The second of the three Stoll Productions' "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" series available at the Internet Archive, THE DEVIL'S FOOT is another stylish adaptation with Eille Norwood returning with a thoughtful, effective performance as Holmes.
The remarkable thing about these adaptations is how well-paced they are despite the need for heavy exposition, finding creative solutions to the problem of conveying information that would normally be handled through dialogue. Once again, director Maurice Elvey keeps things visually interesting with stylish lighting and camerawork that at times seems to recall DeMille's experiments with chiaroscuro lighting several years earlier.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliott from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; photographed by Germain Burger. Starring Eille Norwood, Hubert Willis, Harvey Braban, and Hugh Buckler.
THE DYING DETECTIVE (1922)
Third and final of the Stoll Productions' "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" films available at the Internet Archive. Exceptionally well-paced mystery, expertly shot and directed. The story features an interesting twist, with Holmes apparently contracting an Asiatic disease under mysterious circumstances, which proves to be a quite clever method of solving the mystery. With Holmes incapacitated for much of the film, it adds an interesting variation on his usual sleuthing techniques.
I continue to be impressed by Eille Norwood's performance of the title character, and even after seeing him in just three films, I've come to think of his interpretation of the role as the equal of other fine actors to play the part in multiple films.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliot, from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Also featuring Hubert Willis, Cecil Humphreys, Joseph R. Tozer, and Mme. d'Esterre.
Early Sherlock Holmes screen adaptation notable for being made under the personal supervision of Arthur Conan Doyle (as well as the first to be authorized by Doyle). It is the only remaining entry in a series of eight episodic Holmes films produced by the Eclair company. This one is short on action and long on exposition, with some scenes playing out more like a series of tableaux representing key moments in the story. Despite the static camerawork and staging, there is a great deal of attention paid to the set design of Holmes' flat at 221B Baker Street, and some nice location photography as well.
Holmes is played here by Georges Tréville, and his performance is interesting to watch considering that it predates not only the iconic performances of Basil Rathbone or Jeremy Brett, but even those of actors like Ellie Norwood or Arthur Wontner who helped to shape the character. Still, Tréville does a good job, especially given the limitations of the production, and embodies many of the traits as described by Doyle.
Directed by Adrien Caillard from the story by Arthur Conan Doyle. Starring Georges Tréville.
THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP (1921)
"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes", a series of films produced in the early 1920s by Stoll Picture Productions, is regarded as one of the first adaptations to really do justice to Doyle's stories. Eille Norwood starred as Holmes in all 47 films (and holds the record for having played the character on screen the most number of times). Three of the films in the series are available on the Internet Archive.
The first of them, "The Man with the Twisted Lip", dates from 1921 and, if it is any indication, demonstrates that the producers got a lot of things right in adapting the stories to the screen. Running just 26 minutes, it is also indicative of the serialized format in which these films were released. Eille Norwood makes a fine Holmes and his performance stands up well against later interpretations. The film is a stylish one, featuring strong high-contrast, shadowy cinematography, and also makes good use of authentic London locations, which provide a fascinating glimpse into the period. There are some startlingly inventive shots, such as an apparent murder played out in silhouette against a lighted window. All in all, a solid mystery film and a must for Holmes fans.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliott from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; photographed by Germain Burger. Starring Eille Norwood, Hubert Willis, Robert Vallis, and Paulette del Baze.
THE DEVIL'S FOOT (1921)
The second of the three Stoll Productions' "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" series available at the Internet Archive, THE DEVIL'S FOOT is another stylish adaptation with Eille Norwood returning with a thoughtful, effective performance as Holmes.
The remarkable thing about these adaptations is how well-paced they are despite the need for heavy exposition, finding creative solutions to the problem of conveying information that would normally be handled through dialogue. Once again, director Maurice Elvey keeps things visually interesting with stylish lighting and camerawork that at times seems to recall DeMille's experiments with chiaroscuro lighting several years earlier.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliott from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; photographed by Germain Burger. Starring Eille Norwood, Hubert Willis, Harvey Braban, and Hugh Buckler.
THE DYING DETECTIVE (1922)
Third and final of the Stoll Productions' "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" films available at the Internet Archive. Exceptionally well-paced mystery, expertly shot and directed. The story features an interesting twist, with Holmes apparently contracting an Asiatic disease under mysterious circumstances, which proves to be a quite clever method of solving the mystery. With Holmes incapacitated for much of the film, it adds an interesting variation on his usual sleuthing techniques.
I continue to be impressed by Eille Norwood's performance of the title character, and even after seeing him in just three films, I've come to think of his interpretation of the role as the equal of other fine actors to play the part in multiple films.
Directed by Maurice Elvey; written by William J. Elliot, from the story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Also featuring Hubert Willis, Cecil Humphreys, Joseph R. Tozer, and Mme. d'Esterre.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Silent Heroes (1913)
Two-reel Civil War melodrama (produced by Thomas Ince) about a young man who is branded a coward for staying home to take care of his dying mother instead of enlisting to fight. When his mother dies, he proves himself a hero by mobilizing the Home Guard to defend the town against Northern raiders.
Fairly typical melodrama enhanced by some well-staged battle sequences and good use of locations, along with an interesting high-angle shot - taken from a balcony looking down on the street below - that is unique for this time. Also includes an early screen appearance by future director Frank Borzage.
Directed by Walter Edwards and Jay Hunt. Also featuring Estelle Allen and Tom Chatteron.
Fairly typical melodrama enhanced by some well-staged battle sequences and good use of locations, along with an interesting high-angle shot - taken from a balcony looking down on the street below - that is unique for this time. Also includes an early screen appearance by future director Frank Borzage.
Directed by Walter Edwards and Jay Hunt. Also featuring Estelle Allen and Tom Chatteron.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Who's Minding the Store? (1963)
Delightfully zany, madcap fun from Frank Tashlin and Jerry Lewis. An honest, hard-working (but accident-prone) young man is engaged to a department store heiress and must make good by working in her mother's store, where he is given a series of impossible tasks designed to trip him up.
One of the very best Tashlin-Lewis collaborations, filled with dozens of clever cartoon-like sight gags, expertly-timed slapstick, and sharp satire of the retail business. The kitschy atomic age set design is enhanced by the splendid Technicolor photography. The laughs come fast and furious as Lewis gives one of his finest performances, supported by a wonderful cast of character actors. The highlight: Lewis' "typewriter" routine set to the Leroy Anderson tune.
Directed by Frank Tashlin; produced by Paul Jones; written by Tashlin and Harry Tugend, from a story by Tugend; photographed by W. Wallace Kelley; music by Joseph J. Lilley. Starring Jerry Lewis, Jill St. John, Ray Walston, John McGiver, Agnes Moorehead, Kathleen Freeman, Fritz Feld, and Richard Deacon, among many others.
One of the very best Tashlin-Lewis collaborations, filled with dozens of clever cartoon-like sight gags, expertly-timed slapstick, and sharp satire of the retail business. The kitschy atomic age set design is enhanced by the splendid Technicolor photography. The laughs come fast and furious as Lewis gives one of his finest performances, supported by a wonderful cast of character actors. The highlight: Lewis' "typewriter" routine set to the Leroy Anderson tune.
Directed by Frank Tashlin; produced by Paul Jones; written by Tashlin and Harry Tugend, from a story by Tugend; photographed by W. Wallace Kelley; music by Joseph J. Lilley. Starring Jerry Lewis, Jill St. John, Ray Walston, John McGiver, Agnes Moorehead, Kathleen Freeman, Fritz Feld, and Richard Deacon, among many others.
Strange Behavior (1981)
Effective low-budget thriller about a small-town sheriff investigating a trail of killings of local kids. He suspects that the local school's psychology department, which has been conducting bizarre mind-control experiments on students - including the sheriff's own son - is behind the gruesome slayings.
Stylish slasher flick with sleek early '80s aesthetic complemented by throwback '50s feel, featuring a score by Tangerine Dream. Although the film is set in Illinois, it was shot entirely in New Zealand.
Directed by Michael Laughlin; produced by Anthony I. Ginnane and John Barnett; written by Laughlin and Bill Condon; music by Tangerine Dream. Starring Michael Murphy, Louise Fletcher, Dan Shor, Scott Brady, Charles Lane, and others.
Stylish slasher flick with sleek early '80s aesthetic complemented by throwback '50s feel, featuring a score by Tangerine Dream. Although the film is set in Illinois, it was shot entirely in New Zealand.
Directed by Michael Laughlin; produced by Anthony I. Ginnane and John Barnett; written by Laughlin and Bill Condon; music by Tangerine Dream. Starring Michael Murphy, Louise Fletcher, Dan Shor, Scott Brady, Charles Lane, and others.
Friday, January 24, 2014
The Wolf of Wall St. (2013)
Martin Scorsese's talent for presenting unbalanced, larger-than-life characters comes out in full force with this epic story of real-life Wall Street fraudster Jordan Belfort (played by Leonardo DiCaprio in a tour-de-force performance), who works his way up from selling fraudulent stocks to making a fortune with higher-stakes investment fraud, is indicted by the FBI and, after serving a short sentence in prison, returns as a motivational speaker, giving talks to audiences who see no contradiction in learning the secrets to success from a convicted charlatan.
It is this contradiction that is at the heart of the film. Scorsese wisely does not shy away from portraying the high-power world of the stock brokers - a world of extreme excess, of sex, drugs, booze and lots of cash - as sleek and seductive, creating a strong attraction-repulsion reaction that makes the film's conclusion all the more damning.
The film's structure is similar to GOODFELLAS in depicting its protagonist's rise from humble origins to his precipitous fall, although the Belfort character perhaps has more in common with Travis Bickle or Rupert Pupkin.
It is this contradiction that is at the heart of the film. Scorsese wisely does not shy away from portraying the high-power world of the stock brokers - a world of extreme excess, of sex, drugs, booze and lots of cash - as sleek and seductive, creating a strong attraction-repulsion reaction that makes the film's conclusion all the more damning.
The film's structure is similar to GOODFELLAS in depicting its protagonist's rise from humble origins to his precipitous fall, although the Belfort character perhaps has more in common with Travis Bickle or Rupert Pupkin.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Sasquatch: The Legend of Bigfoot (1977)
Another entry in the "Bigfoot" subgenre prevalent during the 1970s, this film takes an intriguing docudrama approach to the subject, following a team of wildlife researchers on an expedition to northern British Columbia in search of the elusive Sasquatch.
The film benefits from good nature photography, and adds an air of authenticity by utilizing clips of the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film and alleged recordings of Sasquatch calls and howls on its soundtrack, but will probably only be of interest to Bigfoot enthusiasts and fans of this subgenre.
The film benefits from good nature photography, and adds an air of authenticity by utilizing clips of the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film and alleged recordings of Sasquatch calls and howls on its soundtrack, but will probably only be of interest to Bigfoot enthusiasts and fans of this subgenre.
Machine Gun Mama (1944)
Zany and chaotic B-movie comedy with Wallace Ford and El Brendel as a couple of guys from Brooklyn who come to a carnival in Mexico to sell their elephant, Bunny. Ford and Brendel stay on with the carnival and before long, a romance blooms between Ford and the owner's daughter (Armida). There's comedy, romance and even music. Of course, there's also intrigue and suspense, as the villainous Jose (Jack La Rue) plots to sabotage the carnival, but everything turns out fine in the end.
The direction and writing are uninspired, but Wallace Ford puts in a good performance, and El Brendel does his usual shtick, while the comic potential of the elephant gimmick is underdeveloped. Still, it's charming and fun, and the byplay between Ford and Armida is enjoyable enough; a light diversion that works for what it is.
Directed by Harold M. Young; produced by Jack Schwarz; original screenplay by Sam Neuman; songs by Neuman and Michael Breen. Starring Wallace Ford, El Brendel, Armida, Jack La Rue and Luis Alberni.
The direction and writing are uninspired, but Wallace Ford puts in a good performance, and El Brendel does his usual shtick, while the comic potential of the elephant gimmick is underdeveloped. Still, it's charming and fun, and the byplay between Ford and Armida is enjoyable enough; a light diversion that works for what it is.
Directed by Harold M. Young; produced by Jack Schwarz; original screenplay by Sam Neuman; songs by Neuman and Michael Breen. Starring Wallace Ford, El Brendel, Armida, Jack La Rue and Luis Alberni.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
The Legend of Boggy Creek (1972)
The "Citizen Kane" of Bigfoot movies, this 1970s drive-in favorite is a great example of regional and low-budget, atmospheric filmmaking done right. Filmed in parts of Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas (according to the IMDb), the film has an authentic flavor to it that is a key component of why it is so effective.
Director Charles B. Pierce wisely goes the route of emphasizing atmosphere, creating a sense of real dread through what is implied off-screen, which is far more effective than showing too much of the monster. The use of local, non-professional actors (some playing themselves) adds to the documentary-like approach taken by Pierce.
The film ultimately succeeds because it takes the local Bigfoot legend seriously, and does not treat the subject with derision or unnecessary sensationalism. It also treats the characters with respect, focusing on the power that the legend holds for them.
Directed by Charles B. Pierce; screenplay by Earl E. Smith; photographed by Pierce; music by Jaime Mendoza-Nava. Starring Chuck Pierce Jr., William Stumpp, Willie E. Smith, and narrated by Vern Stierman.
Director Charles B. Pierce wisely goes the route of emphasizing atmosphere, creating a sense of real dread through what is implied off-screen, which is far more effective than showing too much of the monster. The use of local, non-professional actors (some playing themselves) adds to the documentary-like approach taken by Pierce.
The film ultimately succeeds because it takes the local Bigfoot legend seriously, and does not treat the subject with derision or unnecessary sensationalism. It also treats the characters with respect, focusing on the power that the legend holds for them.
Directed by Charles B. Pierce; screenplay by Earl E. Smith; photographed by Pierce; music by Jaime Mendoza-Nava. Starring Chuck Pierce Jr., William Stumpp, Willie E. Smith, and narrated by Vern Stierman.
The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (1936)
This 1936 filming of the "Sweeney Todd" story is a generally slow and visually dull adaptation that makes far too little of its intriguing central premise, focusing too much instead on bland and uninteresting secondary characters and subplots. The film is played as a straightforward melodrama when it could have been played more effectively as a dark comedy.
The latter approach comes through in the brilliant performance of Tod Slaughter in the title role, definitely the highlight of the film. He plays the part with a wickedly dark sense of humor and energy, and is clearly having a lot of fun with it, but without losing the sinister and menacing edge that the story calls for. It's one of those parts that seems tailor-made for its actor. It was a role he'd played on stage with his own theatrical company, and thankfully was preserved for posterity on film here. I haven't seen any of Slaughter's other films, but I plan to seek them out on the basis of his performance here alone.
The latter approach comes through in the brilliant performance of Tod Slaughter in the title role, definitely the highlight of the film. He plays the part with a wickedly dark sense of humor and energy, and is clearly having a lot of fun with it, but without losing the sinister and menacing edge that the story calls for. It's one of those parts that seems tailor-made for its actor. It was a role he'd played on stage with his own theatrical company, and thankfully was preserved for posterity on film here. I haven't seen any of Slaughter's other films, but I plan to seek them out on the basis of his performance here alone.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The Pay Off (1942)
This Poverty Row quickie from PRC stars Lee Tracy as Brad McKay, a wisecracking reporter involved in some serious investigative journalism after the city’s prosecutor is found murdered. The plot takes the usual twists and turns, as he teams up with his editor’s son (Tom Brown) and Phyllis Walker (Tina Thayer) to crack the case. There’s a twist at the end, but by that point it’s clear the most interesting thing about the film is watching Lee Tracy’s performance.
This is an otherwise-routine newspaper film with the real highlight being Lee Tracy in the kind of role that had made him famous (on Broadway in “The Front Page” and in early talkies such as “Blessed Event”). He’s a bit older here, with a sense of world weariness to his character, but plays the part with the wisecracking gift of gab that he brought to all his best work.
The direction is unobtrusive and the cinematography generally unremarkable except for the occasional camera moves that help keep things interesting during the scenes of expository dialogue.
This is an otherwise-routine newspaper film with the real highlight being Lee Tracy in the kind of role that had made him famous (on Broadway in “The Front Page” and in early talkies such as “Blessed Event”). He’s a bit older here, with a sense of world weariness to his character, but plays the part with the wisecracking gift of gab that he brought to all his best work.
The direction is unobtrusive and the cinematography generally unremarkable except for the occasional camera moves that help keep things interesting during the scenes of expository dialogue.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Cavalcade (1933)
Based on the elaborate stage production by Noel Coward, Cavalcade follows the lives of an upper-class British family, the Marryots (Clive Brook and Diana Wynyard) and their servants, the Bridges (Una O'Connor and Herbert Mundin) during the early decades of the 20th century. When the film is written about today, it is all too often held up as an example of the one of the least worthy films to receive the Best Picture Academy Award.
Unfortunately, to think of it only in terms of its place in the history of the Academy Awards is to overlook the power of Coward's approach to the story, interweaving his characters against the backdrop of key events in early 20th century British history, which gives the film a truly epic scope. Diana Wynyard turns in a fine performance as Jane Marryot, who serves as the emotional center of the film. Only 27 when the film was made, she does a remarkable job at portraying Jane at various ages over time ranging from 1899 to 1933.
The film is a clear model for such latter programs as Upstairs, Downstairs and Downton Abbey in its focus on contrasting upper-class and servant-class families against an historical backdrop. This narrative tapestry works best in the format of long-form programs like "Masterpiece Theatre", which can devote more time to individual characters and events, whereas Cavalcade frequently feels episodic and rushed. There are also a few moments, including the sinking of the Titanic, which feel almost unintentionally comical in their brief and ironic treatment.
Director Frank Lloyd (who won a Best Director Academy Award for his work on this film) does a fine job helming this massive and handsomely-mounted production. Its sets, which won their designer William Darling an Oscar for Art Direction, suggest a scale surpassing that which we see in the frame. The war sequences were directed by William Cameron Menzies, who creates a dizzying montage of shots depicting the Great War, accompanied by an equally rich soundtrack, intricately mixed to combine the sounds of battle with the voices of the soldiers singing "It's a Long Way to Tipperary", creating a powerful contrast. The film was shot by Ernest Palmer, Murnau's cameraman on 4 Devils and City Girl, and Frank Borzage's cinematographer on 7th Heaven.
It's too easy to dismiss the film on the grounds of its somewhat staid cinematic style and obvious theatrical origins. Instead, when viewed as an innovative approach to weaving personal stories against the tapestry of history, told with taste and restraint, Cavalcade represents a noble effort to tell an epic story through the eyes of characters swept up in the events.
Unfortunately, to think of it only in terms of its place in the history of the Academy Awards is to overlook the power of Coward's approach to the story, interweaving his characters against the backdrop of key events in early 20th century British history, which gives the film a truly epic scope. Diana Wynyard turns in a fine performance as Jane Marryot, who serves as the emotional center of the film. Only 27 when the film was made, she does a remarkable job at portraying Jane at various ages over time ranging from 1899 to 1933.
The film is a clear model for such latter programs as Upstairs, Downstairs and Downton Abbey in its focus on contrasting upper-class and servant-class families against an historical backdrop. This narrative tapestry works best in the format of long-form programs like "Masterpiece Theatre", which can devote more time to individual characters and events, whereas Cavalcade frequently feels episodic and rushed. There are also a few moments, including the sinking of the Titanic, which feel almost unintentionally comical in their brief and ironic treatment.
Director Frank Lloyd (who won a Best Director Academy Award for his work on this film) does a fine job helming this massive and handsomely-mounted production. Its sets, which won their designer William Darling an Oscar for Art Direction, suggest a scale surpassing that which we see in the frame. The war sequences were directed by William Cameron Menzies, who creates a dizzying montage of shots depicting the Great War, accompanied by an equally rich soundtrack, intricately mixed to combine the sounds of battle with the voices of the soldiers singing "It's a Long Way to Tipperary", creating a powerful contrast. The film was shot by Ernest Palmer, Murnau's cameraman on 4 Devils and City Girl, and Frank Borzage's cinematographer on 7th Heaven.
It's too easy to dismiss the film on the grounds of its somewhat staid cinematic style and obvious theatrical origins. Instead, when viewed as an innovative approach to weaving personal stories against the tapestry of history, told with taste and restraint, Cavalcade represents a noble effort to tell an epic story through the eyes of characters swept up in the events.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
The Next Step for Digital Filmmaking
Independent filmmaking has gone through more radical changes in the past decade than it has in nearly the last century. The introduction of consumer digital video tools in the late 1990s, and the availability of non-linear editing systems like Final Cut Express made it possible for amateur, DIY, and independent filmmakers of all stripes to have access to the same tools, and to the same level of quality and technical expectations that were previously the purview of the professional.
In 1999, the New York Times published an article by Rick Layman titled "New Digital Cameras Poised to Jolt World of Filmmaking" (Rick Layman, The New York Times, 11/19/99). In the piece, Layman describes the technology being used by filmmaker Mike Figgis during the filming of his landmark film TIME CODE, which combined four separate, 90-minute takes into a single film. In addition to discussing how the coming changes in technology would affect established filmmakers, the article also discusses how - more importantly - the new digital tools could revolutionize the world of independent filmmaking, not just in the production stage, but also in terms of direct digital distribution to theaters. Where the article makes it most pressing point, however, is that the attraction of these tools for independent filmmakers is not just technological, but also artistic.
This article conveys the excitement over the sense of newness resulting from emerging digital technologies that, for a brief moment, looked as though they would usher in a wave of new opportunities for independent filmmakers to produce and distribute their work.
The excitement over the possibilities of digital filmmaking loomed large over the independent filmmaking world during much of the first half of the 2000s. Nearly 15 years later, however, the excitement has dissipated. Digital cinema has seemed to fail to live up to its potential. Discussions about its possibilities abounded but now seem rather quaint. The New York Times article refers to a hypothetical scenario proposed by Mike Figgis, in which he speculates that if he were a "young filmmaker in Ohio or someplace", he could make a film like TIME CODE with on location with his friends as crew, and that the whole thing could be shot for around $100,000.
Figgis' comments are intriguingly prescient in terms of one of the misinterpretations about the possibilities presented by digital filmmaking that were at least partly responsible for its current transformation into a more expensive and unwieldy proposition that has once again become the purview of professionals.
A real turning point in understanding this transformation occurred in 2005-2006, with the emergence of YouTube, which ushered in its own era of user-generated streaming video content. Because YouTube allowed registered users to upload video content to its servers free of charge, the site quickly became overrun with an overwhelming amount of media, with over 100 hours of video being uploaded per minute according to their website. YouTube initially seemed like the final step in democratizing film. If MiniDV and affordable cameras, NLE systems and DVD authoring software had made production more feasible, then YouTube made it possible for the filmmaker to upload his or her work to distribute to a potentially worldwide audience.
Instead, YouTube proved to be the wedge that split and divided digital filmmaking permanently. Because distribution of digital films had still been previously limited to festivals or other curated viewing experiences, that became the mark of seriousness. In other words, even though the digital filmmaker might be using equipment that could be purchased at the local Best Buy or Office Max, he or she still enjoyed a certain level of professional affirmation through the film festivals or other exhibition channels that vindicated these films by mimicking the traditional modes of commercial film distribution.
YouTube instantly blew away the traditional models and instead made it possible for quite literally anyone with a camera, a computer, and an Internet connection to get their work shown to a potentially larger audience than had ever been previously possible. Thus the split between the "professional" amateur and the "amateur" amateur. It was only in hindsight, particularly as YouTube moved toward increasingly commercial and sponsored content and away from being primarily a home for user-generated content, that the possibilities promised by the emergence of digital tools a decade earlier began to resemble a lost opportunity.
To return to an earlier point regarding Mike Figgis' comments about the hypothetical "young filmmaker in Ohio", it is useful to look at the exact wording of his quote in order to understand how one of the biggest misconceptions and, eventually, disappointments surrounding the potential of digital cinema came to be. At first, his statement appears to be suggesting that any kid in the Rust Belt could make a film like TIME CODE if only he had access to the tools. In the article, he says "If I were some young filmmaker in Ohio..." This is not splitting hairs. The difference being that Figgis, whether he was working in Hollywood or Ohio, has the ideas and vision in the services of which to employ digital tools. The big lie of digital filmmaking was that "anyone could be a filmmaker".
The absurdity of the statement is no different than suggesting that by giving someone a brush and a canvas, that they could paint the Mona Lisa, or that someone could write "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" just for being given a pen and paper. Both ideas are ludicrous. Why should it be that filmmaking, unlike other arts, is assumed to be not just attainable, but able to bemastered, even by those with no skill, training or - most importantly - ideas?
When filmmaking as an art form is impoverished and ghettoized by such attitudes, it is not surprising that eventually technology itself - and the vast amounts of money necessary to pay for it - became seen as the very mark of professionalism and seriousness. The tremendous upswing in the number of film schools and self-professed filmmakers demonstrates the degree to which people bought into this mindset. One result of that mindset has manifested itself in the slapped-together dreck passing as "camp" or "parody", or the inward-gazing "slice of life" pieces that demonstrate nothing so much as the filmmaker's lack of imagination in dealing with a world beyond their own limited experiences.
For a brief but glorious period there was an acceptance of the kind of expressive and personal work that could be produced using the tools available to the artist. Films shot on MiniDV, edited on home computers and burned onto DVD-R for viewing, could be taken seriously precisely because audiences and other filmmakers were interested in the possibilities of what could be produced when you removed the technological barriers that had long been the roadblock to filmmakers working outside large-scale commercial systems. The emphasis became focused on expression. Because of the low production costs, it also created a situation in which "making your money back" did not need to be the constant, overriding concern at the expense of everything else.
In 1999, the New York Times published an article by Rick Layman titled "New Digital Cameras Poised to Jolt World of Filmmaking" (Rick Layman, The New York Times, 11/19/99). In the piece, Layman describes the technology being used by filmmaker Mike Figgis during the filming of his landmark film TIME CODE, which combined four separate, 90-minute takes into a single film. In addition to discussing how the coming changes in technology would affect established filmmakers, the article also discusses how - more importantly - the new digital tools could revolutionize the world of independent filmmaking, not just in the production stage, but also in terms of direct digital distribution to theaters. Where the article makes it most pressing point, however, is that the attraction of these tools for independent filmmakers is not just technological, but also artistic.
This article conveys the excitement over the sense of newness resulting from emerging digital technologies that, for a brief moment, looked as though they would usher in a wave of new opportunities for independent filmmakers to produce and distribute their work.
The excitement over the possibilities of digital filmmaking loomed large over the independent filmmaking world during much of the first half of the 2000s. Nearly 15 years later, however, the excitement has dissipated. Digital cinema has seemed to fail to live up to its potential. Discussions about its possibilities abounded but now seem rather quaint. The New York Times article refers to a hypothetical scenario proposed by Mike Figgis, in which he speculates that if he were a "young filmmaker in Ohio or someplace", he could make a film like TIME CODE with on location with his friends as crew, and that the whole thing could be shot for around $100,000.
Figgis' comments are intriguingly prescient in terms of one of the misinterpretations about the possibilities presented by digital filmmaking that were at least partly responsible for its current transformation into a more expensive and unwieldy proposition that has once again become the purview of professionals.
A real turning point in understanding this transformation occurred in 2005-2006, with the emergence of YouTube, which ushered in its own era of user-generated streaming video content. Because YouTube allowed registered users to upload video content to its servers free of charge, the site quickly became overrun with an overwhelming amount of media, with over 100 hours of video being uploaded per minute according to their website. YouTube initially seemed like the final step in democratizing film. If MiniDV and affordable cameras, NLE systems and DVD authoring software had made production more feasible, then YouTube made it possible for the filmmaker to upload his or her work to distribute to a potentially worldwide audience.
Instead, YouTube proved to be the wedge that split and divided digital filmmaking permanently. Because distribution of digital films had still been previously limited to festivals or other curated viewing experiences, that became the mark of seriousness. In other words, even though the digital filmmaker might be using equipment that could be purchased at the local Best Buy or Office Max, he or she still enjoyed a certain level of professional affirmation through the film festivals or other exhibition channels that vindicated these films by mimicking the traditional modes of commercial film distribution.
YouTube instantly blew away the traditional models and instead made it possible for quite literally anyone with a camera, a computer, and an Internet connection to get their work shown to a potentially larger audience than had ever been previously possible. Thus the split between the "professional" amateur and the "amateur" amateur. It was only in hindsight, particularly as YouTube moved toward increasingly commercial and sponsored content and away from being primarily a home for user-generated content, that the possibilities promised by the emergence of digital tools a decade earlier began to resemble a lost opportunity.
To return to an earlier point regarding Mike Figgis' comments about the hypothetical "young filmmaker in Ohio", it is useful to look at the exact wording of his quote in order to understand how one of the biggest misconceptions and, eventually, disappointments surrounding the potential of digital cinema came to be. At first, his statement appears to be suggesting that any kid in the Rust Belt could make a film like TIME CODE if only he had access to the tools. In the article, he says "If I were some young filmmaker in Ohio..." This is not splitting hairs. The difference being that Figgis, whether he was working in Hollywood or Ohio, has the ideas and vision in the services of which to employ digital tools. The big lie of digital filmmaking was that "anyone could be a filmmaker".
The absurdity of the statement is no different than suggesting that by giving someone a brush and a canvas, that they could paint the Mona Lisa, or that someone could write "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" just for being given a pen and paper. Both ideas are ludicrous. Why should it be that filmmaking, unlike other arts, is assumed to be not just attainable, but able to bemastered, even by those with no skill, training or - most importantly - ideas?
When filmmaking as an art form is impoverished and ghettoized by such attitudes, it is not surprising that eventually technology itself - and the vast amounts of money necessary to pay for it - became seen as the very mark of professionalism and seriousness. The tremendous upswing in the number of film schools and self-professed filmmakers demonstrates the degree to which people bought into this mindset. One result of that mindset has manifested itself in the slapped-together dreck passing as "camp" or "parody", or the inward-gazing "slice of life" pieces that demonstrate nothing so much as the filmmaker's lack of imagination in dealing with a world beyond their own limited experiences.
For a brief but glorious period there was an acceptance of the kind of expressive and personal work that could be produced using the tools available to the artist. Films shot on MiniDV, edited on home computers and burned onto DVD-R for viewing, could be taken seriously precisely because audiences and other filmmakers were interested in the possibilities of what could be produced when you removed the technological barriers that had long been the roadblock to filmmakers working outside large-scale commercial systems. The emphasis became focused on expression. Because of the low production costs, it also created a situation in which "making your money back" did not need to be the constant, overriding concern at the expense of everything else.
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