Gauntlet, The (1977)

“You see, we’ve got a problem, you and me: we don’t like each other much, but we have to take a trip together.”

Synopsis:
A cop (Clint Eastwood) is tasked by his superior (William Prince) with escorting a key witness (Sondra Locke) back to headquarters — but he soon finds himself and his feisty charge under fire at every turn.

Genres:

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary argues that much like “John Ford became disenchanted with the military, as his later films indicate”, The Gauntlet — Eastwood’s sixth outing as a director — represents his “growing disenchantment with cops… because they will happily turn on one another if ordered to do so”. Indeed, this film is far from policedom’s finest moment, given that it presents all cops as either under-performing (Eastwood), hopelessly crooked (Prince), smarmy (Bill McKinney, in an effective supporting turn), naive (Pat Hingle as Eastwood’s partner), and/or brainless (i.e., the hundreds of faceless automaton cops opening fire on demand). As Peary notes, “the picture isn’t altogether successful” (there are plenty of silly sequences — such as a lame encounter with motorcyclists in a gorgeous Nevada desertscape), but “the infighting between Locke and Eastwood is interesting primarily because she… proves to have more street smarts than he”. He further argues that director Eastwood “proves to have a true understanding of Locke’s talents, letting her run the gamut of emotions”, noting that “she can be impressive” — which is true.

However, I disagree with Peary’s assertion that there are “too many action sequences featur[ing] thousands of bullets being shot at structures”. It’s these over-the-top, utterly implausible, but undeniably rousing shoot-em-up scenes — such as the early scene in which so many bullets are fired at Locke’s house that it eventually collapses onto itself; cool! — that quickly turn our protagonists into sympathetic characters. Eastwood and Locke are on the run from forces clearly so much larger and stronger than themselves that they can’t help but eventually be propelled into each others’ arms. After all, you can only face imminent death so many times without starting to feel something for the person you’re fighting for your life with, can you?

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Sondra Locke as Gus
  • Plenty of exciting (if utterly implausible — but who cares?!) action sequences

Must See?
No, though it’s certainly recommended for one-time viewing, and a must for Eastwood fans.

Links:

Torn Curtain (1966)

“It takes a scientist to pick a scientist’s brain.”

Synopsis:
The fiancee (Julie Andrews) of an American physicist (Paul Newman) is distressed to learn that he has seemingly defected to East Berlin, where he hopes to learn mathematical secrets from a famed nuclear scientist (Ludwig Donath).

Genres:

Review:
Critics have long debated whether this late-life entry in Hitchcock’s estimable oeuvre — his fourth-to-last film — is a complete clunker, or simply a lesser effort by an acknowledged genius. My personal assessment is the latter, given that it remains a positive delight in comparison with Hitchcock’s one GENUINE “clunker” — the frightfully boring (and mercifully Peary-omitted) Topaz (1969). With that said, of course it’s true that Torn Curtain is far from Hitchcock’s best, and there are certainly signs that his cinematic vision was beginning to waver. Jeffrey Anderson of Combustible Celluloid labels it as “a strangely muted, dull effort”, and this description is somewhat apt: in some ways, Hitchcock seems to be simply moving his characters through a series of scenarios which lack the punch or overtly cynical humor of similar earlier efforts. The fault seems to lie largely in Brian Moore’s script, which even Hitchcock himself professed to be displeased with; and Bernard Herrmann’s would-be score is also sorely missed.

Yet there remain a handful of gripping scenarios — including the infamous “kitchen murder scene” (which Hitchcock intended to show just how challenging it can really be to kill a man); the scene in which Newman finally converses with Professor Lindt, racing against time to get (and memorize) critical mathematical information before he’s found out; and the nerve-wracking bus ride sequence out of Berlin. In general, I find the last 45 minutes or so of this over-long film to be its best, given that everyone’s finally on the move and we’re held in genuine tension about whether or not Newman and loyal Andrews (doing her best in a virtually thankless role) will be able to make it out. While Torn Curtain isn’t must-see viewing for all-purpose film fanatics, it’s certainly worth a look by his fans.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • The infamously prolonged kitchen murder scene
  • Newman’s mathematical “tussle” with Donath
  • The genuinely tense bus sequence

Must See?
No, though naturally diehard Hitchcock enthusiasts won’t want to miss seeing it at least once.

Links:

Love Finds Andy Hardy (1938)

“Dad, I don’t understand these modern girls…”

Synopsis:
While his girlfriend (Ann Rutherford) is out of town for the holidays, Andy Hardy (Mickey Rooney) is paid by his friend (George P. Breakston) to “watch over” his sexy girl (Lana Turner); meanwhile, the daughter (Judy Garland) of a well-known singer comes to stay with her grandparents next door to Andy, and quickly develops a crush on him.

Genres:

Review:
The fourth in the immensely popular “Andy Hardy” film series — which is often cited as the first real “sitcom”, before television took over this function — Love Finds Andy Hardy is generally regarded as one of the best of the bunch, thanks to the presence of young MGM starlets Lana Turner and Judy Garland. Garland, at the tender age of 15, is simply phenomenal, showcasing both her estimable vocal skills and her nascent acting chops; we truly feel for her difficult situation as a “tween”, not quite old enough to be of interest to boys like Andy Hardy (! his “charisma” continues to stump), but certainly old enough to want to be. Turner is appropriately sexy and petulant, but doesn’t really have enough screen time to register as a real (cinematic) threat to Garland, who easily steals the show. Meanwhile, film fanatics who haven’t seen the entire series like I have (ahem; I’ll admit to being rather obsessed with them as a teenager) can rest assured that they’ll get a sense of the essential formula, which remains intact here: starting with an opening court case — in which Judge Hardy (Lewis Stone, note-perfect) dispenses a resolution or two — the plot quickly unfolds to reveal some issue or concern Andy is dealing with, which dominates the storyline, and eventually includes a heart-to-heart with Dad; meanwhile, secondary plot elements relating to either Andy’s mother (Fay Holden) and/or sister (Cecilia Parker) recur throughout. While I’m no longer quite so enamored with the series — in truth, I found Love Finds… rather dated this time around — there’s no denying its charm and erstwhile appeal as perhaps the ultimate expression of small town ideals.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Lewis Stone as Judge Hardy
  • Judy Garland as Betsy: “I’m too old for toys, and too young for boys — I’m just an in-between…”

Must See?
Yes, as a fine, representative example of the Andy Hardy series. Listed as a film with Historical Importance in the back of Peary’s book. Added to the National Film Registry in 2000.

Categories

Links:

Six of a Kind (1934)

“Maybe I’d better murder them and get it over with, huh?”

Synopsis:
A bank employee (Charles Ruggles) and his wife (Mary Boland) are harrassed by an unmarried couple (George Burns and Gracie Allen) accompanying them on a second honeymoon road trip; meanwhile, Ruggles is unaware that his crooked colleague (Bradley Page) has hidden $50,000 in stolen money in his suitcase, but soon finds a local sheriff (W.C. Fields) and innkeeper (Alison Skipworth) on his tail.

Genres:

Review:
Six of a Kind is an infuriating affair. Competently directed by comedy veteran Leo McCarey — and featuring fine central performances by Ruggles and Boland, along with worthy “cameos” by Fields and Skipworth — it’s nonetheless completely undone by the presence of Burns and Allen. I find that their schtick (primarily Allen’s stupidity) works well in increments; it’s actually quite amusing in International House (1933), for instance, where they’re part of a much larger ensemble cast and have limited interaction with anyone other than themselves. Here, however, they play a dominant part in the first half of the story, as they make quick work of turning Ruggles and Boland’s second honeymoon into a living nightmare. In order for this kind of “comedic” scenario to work, the honeymooning couple would have to be posited as worthy of being tortured in some way — yet Ruggles and Boland are actually quite charming, and we desperately wish they could simply get on with the middle-aged canoodling they’re so eager for. Instead, we’re forced to suffer through scene after scene of Allen’s pure idiocy literally placing her hosts’ lives at risk. Suffice it to say that I was indescribably happy once Fields and Skipworth entered the scene, and the storyline finally turned to the silly subplot about hidden money and false accusations. Fields is in top form, and does a great (if nerve-wracking) pool sketch.

Note: This film possesses an odd connection with Frank Tashlin’s Hollywood or Bust (1956) — viz. the presence of an enormous dog on a cross-country road trip to Hollywood… In both instances, the dog provides (sadly) minimal comedic value.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Charles Ruggles and Mary Boland as the put-upon couple
  • W.C. Fields as Sheriff Hoxley: “I’m about as busy as a pickpocket at a nudists’ colony.”

Must See?
Definitely not; don’t subject yourself to this one unless you’re diehard Fields fan.

Links:

Towering Inferno, The (1974)

[Note: The following review is of a non-Peary title; click here to read more.]

“For what it’s worth, architect, this is one building I figured would never burn.”

Synopsis:
A fire chief (Steve McQueen) collaborates with the architect (Paul Newman) of a burning high-rise to help save the hundreds of people inside.

Genres:

  • Disaster Flicks
  • Ensemble Cast
  • Faye Dunaway Films
  • Fred Astaire Films
  • Jennifer Jones Films
  • Paul Newman Films
  • Steve McQueen Films
  • William Holden Films

Review:
It’s not clear to me why Peary left out this blockbuster disaster flick (which deservedly won Oscars for both best cinematography and best editing) from his GFTFF, given that it remains one of the best of this distinctive (albeit overly and badly populated) genre. Despite its nearly three-hour running time, The Towering Inferno — unlike oh-so-many of its would-be imitators — never lags, providing thrill after thrill, and keeping us consistently engaged in the fates of its cast members from the opening scenes. Newman and McQueen are both excellent (and appropriately stalwart) in critical leading roles, and several other Big Names (Fred Astaire, Jennifer Jones, William Holden) are given worthy supporting roles. Meanwhile, the film’s very premise — a wealthy playboy (Richard Chamberlain, giving a truly hiss-worthy performance) cuts costs by ordering inferior materials, which ultimately compromise the structure’s integrity — is gripping through-and-through, given how feasible this type of high-level corruption could easily be. Holden’s role — as Chamberlain’s father-in-law, and the building’s financier — is particularly interesting to watch, as he comes to acknowledge his own implicit participation in the eventual manslaughter, and is crushingly humbled.

Be forewarned, however, that TTI (as it’s affectionately referred to by its cult fans) really isn’t for the faint of heart. Nice people die throughout this movie — several times, badly, of horrible deaths. Certain images eerily evoke 9/11; the comparison is undeniable. Indeed, if you possess even a shred of fear about dying in a fire one day, stay far, far away from this film, as it presents this possibility in all its visceral horror. Actually, I’m seriously tempted to label TTI a “horror flick”, given the sheer potency of its death scenes, and the way in which Fire is posited as an outrageously powerful Monster, capable of causing unspeakable harm to those in its wake. Be sure to read TCM’s article for plenty of interesting background information about the film’s production (and infamously sticky inter-cast relations) — or go straight to the source and check out this impressive website (13 years old! beware of some dead links…) dedicated exclusively to the film.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Truly impressive special effects
  • Plenty of exciting sequences
  • Stirling Silliphant’s surprisingly smart screenplay

Must See?
Yes, for its historical relevance as one of the best of the early big-budget, big-cast, big-money-making disaster flicks.

Categories

Links:

You’re Telling Me (1934)

“I have more pride than to marry into a family that thinks they’re too good for me!”

Synopsis:
The daughter (Joan Marsh) of a poor inventor (W.C. Fields) finds her engagement compromised when the snooty mother (Kathleen Howard) of her fiancee (Buster Crabbe) disdains her family. Meanwhile, on the way home from a failed attempt to market his new puncture-proof tires, Fields befriends a kind princess (Adrienne Ames) who ends up saving the day.

Genres:

Review:
Perhaps the most kindhearted of all of W.C. Fields’ comedies, You’re Telling Me tells a surprisingly sweet fairy tale about a well-meaning — if overly prone to tippling — henpecked husband who treats a strange woman with kindness (not knowing she’s really a princess), and finds himself amply rewarded in return. At just over an hour, the story is slight but nicely told; the addition of a classically Fieldsian comedic golfing sketch near the end seems gratuitous, but can fairly easily be forgiven as expected by his fans. Meanwhile, Ames — a real-life socialite and model who essentially played variations on herself onscreen — possesses an infectious charm, and is always pleasing to watch; who wouldn’t want a fairy princess like her to waltz into their life?

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • A surprisingly sweet tale of Good Samaritanism

Must See?
No, though it’s an amiable enough little comedy, and worth a watch if you’re in the mood.

Links:

Thing (From Another World), The (1951)

“An intellectual carrot. The mind boggles!”

Synopsis:
When a team of scientists and soldiers at an Arctic military base discover the presence of an alien life form (James Arness), they disagree on how to deal with it: Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) wants to try to communicate with the creature, while Captain Hendry (Kenneth Tobey) is convinced that it must be destroyed at all costs.

Genres:

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary accurately notes that this “first of a handful of masterpieces that came out of the fifties sci-fi cycle… has lost none of its class and power”. An interesting mix of sci-fi and horror — with clear ties to the “Monster flicks” of the 1930s and 1940s — The Thing also possesses a healthy dose of screwball comedy, most notably during the interactions between the two romantic leads (Tobey and Margaret Sheridan). This element becomes less surprising when one learns that producer Howard Hawks “was more than [simply] an adviser” on the set; to that end, Peary points out numerous examples of his influence, including “rapid-fire overlapping dialogue; humor in the midst of turmoil; a male universe where men respect each other’s talents and rank; an intelligent, strong, funny woman (Margaret Sheridan) who’s passed the test and is allowed to pal around with the boys; a strong leader type (Kenneth Tobey) who’s a little befuddled by the woman pursuing him, but realizes that he needs her for his life to be complete; [and] men working together under pressure, with each — professionals all — contributing his singular skills to get the difficult task done”.

The Thing is notable as “the first sci-fi film to show opposing views of the military and scientists on how to deal with aliens”, given that “army men want to shoot them, [while] scientists want (foolishly) to communicate with them” — and it’s this tension that drives the narrative. In his Cult Movies 3 review of the film (where he argues that “to qualify as a true fan of the [sci-fi] genre, one must see this film many times”), Peary provides an even more extensive analysis of this dynamic. He notes that while we may “immediately distrust… Carrington, as we do most geniuses in horror and science fiction” — especially given that “he wears an insidious goatee and a Russian fur hat and fur-lined coat” — he’s not truly a villain, given that Tobey is never fully dismissive of the value provided by science. As Peary puts it, “Military strategy coupled with scientific application is a powerful combination”, and remains one of the film’s dominant themes (along with parallels drawn “between the Cold war and the Battle of the Sexes”, and the patriotic notion that “America’s armed forces can turn back any type of invasion” and “defeat any enemy”.)

Perhaps most impressive about The Thing is its pacing, which manages to feel both relentless and natural at the same time. From the very beginning — thanks to Charles Lederer’s smart, literate script — we believe that we’re watching a real crew of airmen heading to the North Pole (viz. the fascinating scene in which they all spread out across an ice field to assess how large the spaceship is). You may need an extra cup of coffee to keep up with the rapidfire dialogue, but it all feels refreshingly authentic. Meanwhile, as Peary argues, “the sustained tension” throughout the film is a “result of [both] the clever timing of shocks” and the incorporation of “horror-movie elements”, such as “when Tobey opens a door expecting to find the alien hiding in a room only to have it standing right in front of him”.

[To that end, my only minor quibble with the film is that the characters never seem quite scared enough; they’re having such a grand, confident time together that one never doubts they’ll come through with flying colors.]

It’s been noted — and was especially clear to me during this most recent viewing — how much of an influence The Thing seems to have been on Alien (1979). Indeed, the parallels are positively uncanny, given that they both present a group of diverse yet (supposedly) united individuals trapped in a confined space with a “seemingly indestructible alien”; diverging opinions on what exactly to do with said alien; and an ultimate emphasis on survival at all costs. A key difference, naturally, is that Alien features a rare female sci-fi heroine, while The Thing relegates its primary female presence to a supporting (if strong and impressive) role; it’s too bad Sheridan’s movie career never really went anywhere, as she’s quite memorable here in a potentially thankless role.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Plenty of genuine tension


  • A smart, surprisingly humorous script

Must See?
Yes, as a genuine sci-fi classic. Nominated by Peary as one of the Best Pictures of the Year in his Alternate Oscars book, and discussed at length in his Cult Movies 3.

Categories

Links:

Candy (1968)

“I don’t understand! What does it all mean?”

Synopsis:
A vapid, sexually alluring teen (Ewa Aulin) encounters lustful older men — including her father (John Astin), his twin brother (Astin), a poet (Richard Burton), a gardener (Ringo Starr), a hunch-backed juggler (Charles Aznavour), a renowned surgeon (James Coburn), a general (Walter Matthau), and a guru (Marlon Brando) — everywhere she goes.

Genres:

Review:
Based on the best-selling 1958 novel by Terry Southern (which itself was loosely inspired by Voltaire’s Candide), this infamously awful camp classic is (as summed up by DVD Savant) simply “a pack of stale sex jokes enlivened here and there by spirited performances”. It’s difficult to know exactly what all the big name actors who committed to this project thought they were getting into — but fortunately for film fanatics, there’s actually quite a bit to enjoy in their cameo spots. Burton, for instance, is deliciously bombastic as a poet with perpetually wind-swept hair, while Matthau riffs nicely on his crusty screen persona, and Brando has great fun (too much fun??) playing a lecherous guru living out of the back of a truck. Aulin herself is convincingly vacant as the sexy object of all men’s desires — and if she’s no great actress, she’s at least appropriately cast for the part. Yet you’ll likely find your patience sorely tested as you question the ultimate point of Candy’s sexual wanderings, given that she doesn’t seem to be particularly turned on by any of these men. Indeed, if you take it all too seriously, it’s easy to be deeply offended by the very premise of a sexually available, under-age naif allowing herself to be seduced by nearly every male she comes across — and the incessant faux humping (this is a satire on pornography, after all) quickly becomes tiresome. Watch this one, if you dare, simply for its value as a curio.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Richard Burton as McPhisto
  • Walter Matthau as General Smight
  • James Coburn as Dr. Krankheit
  • Marlon Brando as Grindl

Must See?
Yes, but only for its notoriety as a campy clunker. Listed as a Camp Classic in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

Links:

House by the River (1950)

“There’s a limit to this business of being brothers.”

Synopsis:
A sociopathic writer (Louis Hayward) enlists the help of his brother (Lee Bowman) in hiding the body of a maid (Dorothy Patrick) he’s accidentally strangled.

Genres:

Review:
This little-seen historical melodrama by Fritz Lang is arguably the film in his oeuvre “with the strongest camp appeal”. Featuring a sociopathic protagonist we come to despise within 10 minutes of his appearance on-screen, the gothic storyline moves inexorably towards Hayward’s downfall — though there remains a fair amount of suspense in wondering just how he’ll get there, and how many other people he’ll manage to hurt along the way. As noted in Digitally Obsessed’s review, “It’s a pretty trashy soap opera of a movie, overheated and crammed with melodrama, the sort of picture that will have you cheering the hero and hissing the villain” — and the film does suffer a bit from its rather predictable set-up (including an obligatory would-be romance between Hayward’s wife [Jane Wyatt] and Bowman). However, Lang does a fine job maintaining moody atmosphere throughout — thanks in part to Edward Cronjager’s cinematography — and Hayward is surprisingly memorable and weaselly in the lead role. Worth a look, but not must-see viewing.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Louis Hayward as Stephen
  • Edward Cronjager’s atmospheric cinematography

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a one-time look.

Links:

Independence Day (1983)

“Don’t let Jack make you forget what you really want…”

Synopsis:
An aspiring small-town photographer (Kathleen Quinlan) hoping to get accepted to art school in L.A. begins an affair with a mechanic (David Keith) whose sister (Dianne Wiest) is married to an abusive husband (Cliff De Young).

Genres:

Review:
Based on a script by novelist Alice Hoffman, this unfortunately-titled indie film — forever overshadowed by the 1996 sci-fi hit of the same name — features a fine central performance by Kathleen Quinlan, whose main claim to cinematic fame remains her Oscar-nominated turn as Tom Hanks’ wife in Apollo 13. However, the dilemma posed by both Quinlan’s aspirations and her romance with car-racing Keith (Will she or won’t she get into the school of her dreams? Will he or won’t he accompany her on her quest to the Big City?) is ultimately rather predictable and uninspired. Much more fascinating is the film’s secondary narrative, about an abused housewife (Wiest, giving a heartbreaking performance) who appears to simply accept her lot in life with a timid, fearful smile, yet has an audacious escape plan in mind. Director Robert Mandel should be applauded for daring to present Wiest’s situation in all its discomfiting rawness; truthfully, the film really should have been primarily hers.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Dianne Wiest as Nancy
  • Kathleen Quinlan as Mary Ann

Must See?
No, but it’s worth seeking out simply for Wiest’s stand-out performance, and for its unforgettable denouement. Listed as a Sleeper and a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Links: