Phantom of the Opera, The (1925)

Phantom of the Opera, The (1925)

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“Feast your eyes — glut your soul on my accursed ugliness!”

Synopsis:
A masked madman (Lon Chaney) living beneath the Paris Opera House is determined to win the love of a beautiful understudy (Mary Philbin) by providing her with an opportunity to perform in place of the lead singer (Virginia Pearson). He warns Christine (Philbin) not to have anything more to do with her lover (Norman Kerry), or to touch his mask — but she ignores both warnings, and soon the Phantom sets forth on a deadly rampage.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Disfigured Faces
  • Horror
  • Lon Chaney, Sr. Films
  • Mind Control and Hypnosis
  • Obsessive Love
  • Opera
  • Serial Killers
  • Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Though many critics have complained about the unevenness of its narrative and direction (due primarily to its notorious production troubles), I’m in agreement with Peary’s largely positive review of this “classic horror film”, starring Lon Chaney as “the victim of torture, with a crazed mind and a hideous half-skeletal face that he covers with a mask” — a “great composer” who “haunts a great opera house in 19th century Paris” and is determined to “make a star of lovely singer Mary Philbin”. He posits that “except for the classic unmasking scene in which we and Philbin see Chaney’s face for the first time” (a justifiably lauded sequence which remains just as effective today, and will likely give you a start), the “first half of the film is slow” — but he argues that “from the moment Chaney overhears Philbin and Kerry plotting to run away, the picture becomes an exciting, first-rate thriller”.

The first half may be somewhat slow, but it effectively sets up the premise of novelist Gaston Leroux‘s simple yet timeless “beauty and the beast” tale — and if you watch it at 1.5 or 2x speed (as I often do with certain sections of silent films), you shouldn’t have any problem staying focused. This is especially true given the consistently atmospheric camerawork (which makes fine use of shadowy effects), and the impressive sets throughout — including the still-extant (in part, anyway) recreation of the Paris Opera House, as well as the Phantom’s genuinely spooky underground lair, full of “secret doors, heat torture, chambers filling with water”, and more.

Peary notes that “as in The Raven [1935] and Frankenstein [1931], [the] story deals with [a] significant horror premise: those who are monstrous-looking will act monstrously”. To that end, we don’t learn quite enough about what turned the Phantom into the hideous beast he’s become, but what’s interesting is that we never really feel sorry for him, despite knowing that he’s been unfairly treated somehow — likely because he commits cold-blooded murders from the moment the film starts, as soon as anyone gets too close to discovering his secret identity. Meanwhile, we don’t really feel much compassion for Philbin’s Christine, either — she’s a true ninny possessing nary a shred of common sense, and her boyfriend (Kerry) is equally lug-headed. But the film really is all about Chaney’s Phantom (the first of Universal Studios’ “monsters”, as pointed out by Richard Scheib) — and both he and his elaborate makeup are mesmerizing from start to finish.

Note: The version I watched is the “original” b&w version that was likely circulating at the time Peary wrote his review; since then, however, a highly regarded DVD has been released which contains two different versions of the film — including one with a handful of Technicolor sequences. Click here to read more about the merits of the DVD, which apparently includes a wealth of information for anyone interested in the film’s fabled history.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Lon Chaney as Erik, a.k.a. “The Phantom”
  • Truly fabulous make-up
  • The infamous “unmasking” scene
  • Effective use of shadowy cinematography

  • Impressive sets

  • The climactic denouement

Must See?
Yes, as a certified classic, and for Chaney’s performance.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Written on the Wind (1956)

Written on the Wind (1956)

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“I’ll wait, and I’ll have you — marriage or no marriage.”

Synopsis:
The alcoholic playboy son (Robert Stack) of an oil magnate (Robert Keith) woos and marries a secretary (Lauren Bacall) who his best friend (Rock Hudson) is secretly in love with; meanwhile, Stack’s nymphomaniac sister (Dorothy Malone) will stop at nothing to convince Hudson — her lifelong crush — to marry her.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Alcoholism and Drug Addiction
  • Class Relations
  • Dorothy Malone Films
  • Douglas Sirk Films
  • Lauren Bacall Films
  • Love Triangle
  • Millionaires
  • Robert Stack Films
  • Rock Hudson Films
  • Siblings

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary notes that this “tempestuous melodrama” — “produced by Albert Zugsmith… and directed by Douglas Sirk, the German emigre who made films about American life and family” — features “strong performances, especially by an extremely sexy Dorothy Malone” (who won an Oscar for her supporting work here), and “ranks with The Tarnished Angels [1957] as Sirk’s best work”. He points out that “as in all good potboilers, the characters are driven by their passions and are surrounded by destructive forces: those characters who are destroyed also have destructive forces emanating from the inside”. As argued by Tim Dirks on his Greatest Films site, the film critiques “the underlying hollowness and shallowness of American society in the placid 1950s,” portraying “misfit lives stunted and corrupted by mental anguish, alcoholism, sexual frustration, and corruptible materialistic wealth”. And, as noted in Bright Lights’ review, the presence of “private jets, rivers of booze, barroom fisticuffs, shiny clothes, and a forest of phallic oil derricks” link this film inextricably to its heirs apparent — the popular television series “Dynasty” and “Dallas”.

While Sirk’s previous films — such as Magnificent Obsession (1954) and All That Heaven Allows (1955) — afforded audiences the opportunity to relate to the central female protagonist’s romantic and social crises, such an association is less obvious here. Presumably, audiences were meant to primarily sympathize with Bacall’s character:

… who is lured into a world of wealth and privilege in part due to her compassion for such an obviously “broken” man as Stack (who comes across as oddly sympathetic, despite his character’s deep-seated flaws; Stack is in fine form).

Meanwhile, Hudson’s “Mitch Wayne” is a likable, no-nonsense counterpart for male audiences to relate to.

But it’s Malone’s sexy, deeply troubled “Marylee” who is ultimately most memorable here, with her drunken, frenzied dervish (cross-cut with her father’s death) a disturbing highlight of the film.


She and her brother are clear cautionary evidence of the way in which “those who have money… are doomed, as if money created bad genes”. One may leave the film feeling oddly grateful for not being wealthy.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Dorothy Malone as Marylee Hadley
  • Robert Stack as Kyle Hadley
  • Rock Hudson as Mitch Wayne
  • Vibrant sets and Technicolor cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as a mid-century melodramatic classic — and for Malone’s Oscar-winning supporting performance.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Oscar Winner or Nominee

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

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“Don’t you see I’d be turning my back on everything I’ve ever known?”

Synopsis:
A lonely socialite widow (Jane Wyman) has an affair with her bohemian gardener (Rock Hudson), much to the dismay of her best friend (Agnes Moorehead) and college-aged children (Gloria Talbott and William Reynolds).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Agnes Moorehead Films
  • Cross-Class Romance
  • Douglas Sirk Films
  • Jane Wyman Films
  • Morality Police
  • Rock Hudson Films
  • Widows and Widowers

Review:
Among the handful of mid-century melodramas Douglas Sirk made for Universal International Pictures, All That Heaven Allows remains one of the most highly regarded — in hindsight, that is. Sirk’s films were only truly valued as “fabulous, ironic piece[s] of performance art” (as described in 1,001 Movies You Must See) in later decades, when they were re-appropriated by newer audiences who viewed — and appreciated — them from an entirely different perspective. As DVD Savant puts it, Sirk’s films are “fake and honest at the same time”, presented as “artificial constructions filled with powerful real emotions”. This description suits All That Heaven Allows — Hudson and Wyman’s follow-up to their success in Sirk’s Magnificent Obsession (1954) — to a tee.

Wyman and Hudson’s romance in ATHA is never exactly believable; while we can understand why Wyman — a lonely widow — would go gaga over hunky Hudson, the opposite motivation simply isn’t there. We never get a sense of why, exactly, the free-spirited Hudson (who has no desire at all to tap into either Wyman’s money or social set) feels Wyman is suitable as his new soulmate. Such quibbles must ultimately be set aside, however, given that this is squarely meant to be a women’s picture — a film designed precisely to appeal to those [females] who could relate to Wyman’s predicament (as a lonely housewife and mother) in some form or another. Hudson’s character suits Wyman’s needs perfectly, and thus — he exists. Meanwhile, the competing forces in Wyman’s life — ranging from her claustrophobically judgmental social circle, to her priggish grown children — are over-the-top yet believable at their core.

What really makes this and other key Sirk films so memorable, however, is their unique, consistently stunning visual style. Vibrant colors are used to strategic effect here to convey characters’ increasingly intense emotions, with nearly every shot perfectly designed and framed to convey a certain sensibility. Check out the bottom still below, for instance, in which Wyman’s face is highlighted in the screen of the television set her children have purchased for her as a “companion” — she’s surrounded on either side by the salesmen who have eagerly set it up for her, but her forlorn expression is undeniable. Much schmaltzier are the images framing Wyman’s final encounters with Hudson (that deer!), which definitely shift the film into high melodrama — but by this point we’re invested enough in Wyman’s happiness that we simply accept what Sirk offers up to us, schmaltz and all.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Jane Wyman as Cary
  • Agnes Moorehead as Sara
  • Vibrant Technicolor cinematography
  • Effectively stylized sets
  • Sirk’s consistently innovative visual sensibility

Must See?
Yes, as a cult favorite by a notable director. Listed as a Sleeper and a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Cult Movie
  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Big Clock, The (1948)

Big Clock, The (1948)

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“Oh, Miss York, where are the green clocks of yesteryear?”

Synopsis:
An over-worked editor (Ray Milland) whose wife (Margaret O’Sullivan) is weary of his insane work schedule goes out drinking one night with a sympathetic colleague (Rita Johnson), and learns the next day that she’s been murdered. His overbearing boss (Charles Laughton) — who, as Johnson’s jealous lover, committed the murder himself, but is desperate to blame it on the shadowy figure he saw leaving Johnson’s apartment — tasks Milland with heading an investigation to determine this mysterious man’s identity, not knowing it was Milland himself.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Charles Laughton Films
  • Elsa Lanchester Films
  • Framed
  • George Macready Films
  • Journalists
  • Living Nightmare
  • Maureen O’Sullivan Films
  • Ray Milland Films
  • Tycoons

Review:
The synopsis above hints at the complexity of this dense but fascinating and finely paced “murder mystery”, in which an egomaniacal tycoon (Laughton) shamelessly attempts to shift the blame for a murder he has committed onto someone else. The story — deftly directed by John Farrow (who cast his wife, O’Sullivan, in a small and somewhat thankless role) — occurs in flashback, as a panicked Milland recounts how he ended up in hiding from the police in his own office building — a futuristic edifice with an enormous clock (hence the title) meant to represent the God-like command held by Laughton, who micro-manages his employees to an extent that would be laughable if it weren’t sadly believable. Anyone who’s ever been pressured to give 110% to their job will relate to Milland’s frustration at being unable, even after years of dedicated service, to take a much-deserved holiday with his wife; the irony, of course, is that even after steeling himself to stand up to Laughton and quit his job, Laughton’s sway holds fierce, as Milland suddenly finds himself caught up in the ultimate living nightmare.

What’s perhaps most impressive is how neatly all the elements of Jonathan Latimer’s intricate screenplay fall into place, with each facet of Milland’s ill-advised drinking spree — his request for a “green clock” at a bar, his purchase of a surreal painting at a pawnshop after bargaining with another would-be owner (Elsa Lanchester) — coming back to haunt him. (Lanchester’s role — she’s as delightful as ever — becomes nicely fleshed out as we learn she’s actually the painting’s creator, and she ends up playing a critical role in the investigation.) Adding to the complexity of the entire narrative, of course, is the fact that Laughton doesn’t know Milland is the man he’s trying to frame, and that Milland — renowned for his amateur sleuthing abilities — is ultimately trying to track down himself. It’s all a giddy, nerve-wracking delight — and while I’m always the first to complain if I feel a narrative contains too many details for viewers to easily hold in place, thankfully that isn’t the case here. Fine performances all-around, as well as appropriately noir-ish cinematography and effective set designs, make this one a memorable treat on multiple levels.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Ray Milland as George Stroud
  • Charles Laughton as Earl Janoth
  • Rita Johnson as Pauline York
  • Elsa Lanchester as Louise Patterson
  • Effectively “futuristic” sets
  • John Seitz’s cinematography
  • Fine direction by John Farrow
  • Jonathan Latimer’s clever screenplay

Must See?
Yes, as an effective, smartly crafted noir thriller.

Categories

  • Good Show

Links:

Lady Eve, The (1941)

Lady Eve, The (1941)

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“I need him like the axe needs the turkey.”

Synopsis:
A con-artist (Barbara Stanwyck) on-board a cruise ship with her cardsharp father (Charles Coburn) falls in love with a naive ophiologist (Henry Fonda) she originally sets out to dupe. Before she can reveal her true identity to him, however, he becomes wise to her scam and shuns her completely. Stanwyck seeks revenge by posing as the aristocratic niece of a con-artist Earl (Eric Blore), and seduces Fonda all over again — but what are her ultimate intentions?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Barbara Stanwyck Films
  • Charles Coburn Films
  • Con-Artists
  • Gold Diggers
  • Henry Fonda Films
  • Millionaires
  • Mistaken or Hidden Identities
  • Preston Sturges Films
  • Revenge
  • Romantic Comedy

Response to Peary’s Review:
In his review of this critically acclaimed romantic comedy by writer/director Preston Sturges, Peary notes that “Sturges takes standard screwball-comedy material” — reminiscent of other notable titles in the genre, including both Bringing Up Baby and The Awful Truth — and “turns it into a zany classic”. He points out that the “film has an irresistible blend of quirky characters, snappy dialogue, slapstick, and sex” — an abbreviated listing of all the critical elements that make Sturges’ best work so memorable. Of these elements, the latter is perhaps the most surprising and refreshing (how in the world did Sturges get his script past the Hays Office???). Roger Ebert, in his “Great Movies” review, argues that the infamous ~4 minute static shot about 20 minutes into the story — when Stanwyck “toys with Fonda’s hair” — is his personal selection for the “single scene in all of romantic comedy that [is] sexiest and funniest at the same time”; indeed, it’s likely the humor of the scene that managed to assuage would-be morality police from complaint — but it remains a dilly of an erotic/romantic moment on-screen!

What’s most memorable about The Lady Eve, however, are the performances by the odd-couple leads — both at the top of their game. Peary accurately notes that Fonda (never the most exciting of actors) “will surprise you with his skillful pratfalls” (they’re numerous, and all exceedingly well-done), and argues that “Stanwyck is so personable and vivacious that you feel… all the men whose money she stole got their money’s worth”. Peary names Stanwyck Best Actress of the Year in his Alternate Oscars book for 1941, though he ultimately selects her performance in Ball of Fire over this one simply because he “likes her character better” in that film; but he rightfully argues that she’s “flawless in both comedies”. Her complex character here undergoes a tremendous character arc, allowing herself to unexpectedly fall in love, then reverting to wily cynicism when her heart is broken, and magically transforming into a glamorous, seductive, yet hilarious noblewoman who convincingly has dozens of men literally drooling at her feet. She bats not an eye when silently daring Fonda to doubt the veracity of her outrageous assumed persona — yet we can easily see both her vulnerability and her scorned-woman wrath hovering close beneath the surface.

Peary culminates his brief review of The Lady Eve by arguing that the “film would match Sullivan’s Travels” — which he nominates as Best Picture of the Year in his Alternate Oscars — “if it didn’t peter out near the end”; however, I’m actually a bigger fan of this title, made the same year. I disagree completely that the film’s ending (reminiscent, in a way, of the denouement to Billy Wilder’s The Major and the Minor) is a cop-out; as Ebert puts it in his “Greatest Films” review, the final two lines are “equal to the classic line ‘Nobody’s perfect!” at the end of Some Like It Hot.” A final kudos should be given to Edith Head and her minions for a set of marvelous outfits; Stanwyck has never looked more enticing. As Peary puts it, “cheers to her wardrobe designer”.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Barbara Stanwyck as Eve (nominated by Peary as one of the Best Actresses of the Year in his Alternate Oscars book)
  • Henry Fonda as Charles
  • Edith Head’s costumes
  • A consistently delightful and witty script, full of intriguing throw-away lines:

    “I used to go with a little Eskimo dame…”
    “I knew a guy who married the same woman three times, then turned around and married her aunt.”

Must See?
Yes, as a true classic of the screwball genre.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)

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“I know I don’t look like Joe, but I’m him just the same!”

Synopsis:
When his plane crashes, a boxer (Robert Montgomery) with fifty years left to live is prematurely brought to heaven by an overly zealous angel (Edward Everett Horton). Because his earthly body has been cremated, Montgomery enlists the help of administrative angel “Mr. Jordan” (Claude Rains) in finding a new one to inhabit. Out of pity for a beautiful young woman (Evelyn Keyes) whose father has been falsely accused by a heartless millionaire named Farnsworth, he takes over Farnsworth’s body just after his wife (Rita Johnson) and her lover (John Emery) have tried to murder him. Soon Montgomery finds himself eager to get his new body into shape for a boxing match, and enlists the help of his befuddled former manager (James Gleason).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Angels
  • Boxing
  • Claude Rains Films
  • Death and Dying
  • Evelyn Keyes Films
  • Fantasy
  • Life After Death
  • Millionaires
  • Robert Montgomery Films
  • Untimely Death

Response to Peary’s Review:
Given that I’m not generally a fan of the film blanc genre (discussed at length here), I was surprised to find myself enjoying this Oscar-winning supernatural tale — remade by Warren Beatty in 1978 as Heaven Can Wait — as much as I did. Peary argues that “while there are some delightful moments” in the script, it’s ultimately “schmaltzy and morbid and never hilarious”. He uncharacteristically gives away major spoilers when describing why he feels the film’s ending essentially cheats viewers on an emotional level (I won’t say more), and argues that Beatty’s remake “was ruined by the same unsatisfying resolution”. I don’t agree. In this case, I’m more in line with DVD Savant’s sentiment that Here Comes Mr. Jordan remains a “rare Hollywood classic that hasn’t dated and never fails to raise one’s spirits.”

In his review, Savant aptly describes the film’s “optimistic and uplifting message” as follows: “the human soul is a wondrous thing that lives after us, even if it takes new forms and new identities”, and “our essential goodness will be passed on to those that follow”, given that “love doesn’t die with one’s mortal body”. Even for hard-headed cynics like myself, this message is simply too appealing not to want to believe — and thus, I gave myself over to the story. To that end, I appreciated the care taken to resolve the undeniably tricky dilemma of Montgomery’s character supposedly inhabiting new bodies while WE still see Montgomery himself; appropriately enough, other players in the “outstanding supporting cast” are given ample time to adjust to the astonishing truth of Montgomery’s bodily inhabitance — most notably James Gleason as a cynical manager who takes some convincing that his former boxing champion now resides in a wealthy financier’s body.

Peary accurately notes that Montgomery is “perfect as [boxer Joe] Pendleton”, but I can’t quite agree with his assertion that “Rains’s role should have been stronger”. I was actually quite impressed by how seamlessly the screenplay incorporates his presence in a story that really should be all about Pendleton. Yet I wasn’t especially enthused by Rains’s performance here.

He’s certainly competent, and projects just the right amount of avuncular wisdom, but — perhaps strategically? — he’s simply not very charismatic. Meanwhile, Evelyn Keyes (probably best known for playing “Suellen” in Gone With the Wind) gives a delightful performance in a minor yet essential role as the woman who inspires Montgomery to give Farnsworth’s body a try; it’s a joy to watch her slowly learning to trust, and then love, the man who once caused her indescribable grief.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Robert Montgomery as Joe Pendleton (nominated by Peary as one of the Best Actors of the Year in his Alternate Oscars book)
  • James Gleason as Mr. Corkle
  • Evelyn Keyes as Bette
  • Sidney Buchman and Seton I. Miller’s fine, Oscar-winning, feel-good script

Must See?
Yes, as a feel-good classic.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Oscar Winner or Nominee

Links:

Christmas in July (1940)

Christmas in July (1940)

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“Now that you’re a capitalist, I don’t know how you feel about working for a living.”

Synopsis:
A lowly employee (Dick Powell) engaged to his sweetheart (Ellen Drew) is fooled by his co-workers into thinking he’s won a $25,000 slogan-writing contest, and believes his luck has changed for good.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Advertising
  • Comedy
  • Dick Powell Films
  • Get Rich Quick
  • Preston Sturges Films

Review:
Although its title is finally justified in a later sequence — when the protagonist’s girlfriend refers to their luck as feeling like it’s “Christmas in July” — one could be forgiven for feeling a twinge of disappointment upon learning that this early Preston Sturges comedy (his second as director) really has nothing to do with Christmas, per se (so don’t watch it, like I did, in hopes of generating a bit of holiday spirit). However, the film stands up just fine on its own merits, and remains clear evidence of Sturges’ gift for writing clever, incisive satires which effectively skewer their targets while maintaining just the right amount of hope and belief in goodwill.

At just 67 minutes long, the storyline here moves like a breeze, shifting quickly from what looks like it will be simply a painful lesson in undue humiliation (as the ever-hopeful Powell is taken for a ride by several of his naughty co-workers), to an unexpectedly joyful tale of happy coincidence and good luck. Naturally, things must eventually come to a head — but along the way, we’re witness to both the delights of seeing asinine men-in-power made fools of, and deserving underlings given a chance to show their best light. Meanwhile, those who harbor nagging suspicions about the — er, veracity — of the advertising industry need look no further than here to have their suspicions verified; what makes for an “award-winning” slogan has apparently always remained a hotly contested exercise in Emperor’s Clothing. With that said, the film’s ending remains the best one possible, on all counts; watch and see for yourself.

Note: Powell and Drew are perfectly cast (and utterly believable) as the central young couple in love, and are surrounded by Sturges’ dependable crew of supporting comedic actors (including the inimitable William Demarest and Franklin Pangborn).

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Dick Powell and Ellen Drew as Jimmy and Betty
  • A clever, witty, satirical screenplay

Must See?
Yes, as early evidence of Sturges’ genius. Listed as a film with Historical Importance in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Historically Relevant
  • Important Director

Links:

Send Me No Flowers (1964)

Send Me No Flowers (1964)

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“That’s one heck of a guy you’ve got there, Judy. When they made George Kimball, they threw away the mold!”

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

Synopsis:
A hypochondriac (Rock Hudson) mistakenly believes his doctor (Edward Andrews) has determined that he only has three weeks left to live, and — with the help of his best friend and neighbor (Tony Randall) — tries to find a new husband for his wife (Doris Day).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Comedy
  • Death and Dying
  • Doris Day Films
  • Rock Hudson Films
  • Tony Randall Films

Review:
My dear collaborator and friend, writer93_99, argues in his response to my review of Pillow Talk (1959) that all three of the comedies Doris Day and Rock Hudson made together — Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back (1961), and Send Me No Flowers (1964) — could/should be considered must-see for film fanatics, given that they represent the inimitable duo at various stages of their onscreen romantic career together. Inspired by his confidence, I recently re-watched Send Me No Flowers, and was tickled to find that it’s actually my favorite of the bunch. It remains likely the best film ever made about hypochondria, given that it takes this wonderfully ripe premise to its “logical” conclusion, and exploits every comedic possibility along the way. And while Pillow Talk and Lover Come Back were crafted from the same deliciously cynical mold (with Hudson and Day simultaneously duking it out and falling in love under false pretenses), the deception in Send Me No Flowers is much gentler: Hudson really DOES believe he’s about to die in three weeks’ time, so any deception (at least for the first hour or so of the film) is unintentional.

Hudson and Day are both in peak comedic form (as usual) — but it’s co-stars Tony Randall and Paul Lynde who really steal the scenery in this one. Lynde wasn’t in many big-name movies (most viewers will recognize him simply from his work on “Hollywood Squares”), but his role here as an earnest cemetery plot salesman is flat-out hilarious:

Lynde: As you can see, we suggest the entire family all go out and select the final resting place together. The kids love it; they have a ball.

Hudson: You see, I’d rather my wife didn’t know about this.
Lynde: You want to surprise her.
Hudson: Yes.
Lynde: Well, this’ll give her a real thrill! It makes a very thoughtful gift.

Hudson (with astonishment): You really enjoy your work, don’t you?
Lynde: I sure do. I wouldn’t want to do anything else. [pauses, then explains] I like people.

Note that, in addition to his early scene-stealing interaction with Hudson, Lynde’s character plays an unexpectedly important role in the film’s denouement as well.

Meanwhile, Randall proves why he was such an essential element in all three of the Day/Hudson films: his consistently maudlin reaction to Hudson’s morbid situation convincingly grounds the entire affair. The thinly-veiled “connection” between the two men (best friends, neighbors, and…? where IS Randall’s wife, anyway?) has been duly noted (indeed, it’s hard to miss); check out the infamous bed-sharing scene, for instance. Yet it’s all simultaneously so “innocent” — and Hudson’s adoration of his wife so clear — that audiences at the time were likely comfortable with the film as the heteronormative experience it was more broadly meant to be.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Tony Randall as Arnold
  • Paul Lynde as Mr. Akins
  • Rock Hudson as George
  • Doris Day as Judy
  • Julius Epstein’s marvelous script
  • Frank De Vol’s hilariously melodramatic film score

Must See?
Yes, as a most enjoyable comedy featuring fine performances throughout.

Categories

  • Good Show

Links:

Dark End of the Street, The (1981)

Dark End of the Street, The (1981)

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“Something bad happens, it’s gotta be someone’s fault.”

Synopsis:
When a white teenager (Laura Harrington) and her boyfriend (Henry Tomaszewski) witness the accidental death of a black friend (Terence Grey) and are afraid to report it, another black teenager (Albert Eaton) — the brother of Harrington’s best friend (Michele Greene) — is falsely accused of foul play.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Falsely Accused
  • Race Relations

Review:
This obscure indie film by writer-director Jan Egleson (whose career turned largely to television after the release of this movie) is exactly the kind of title I’m grateful to Peary for including in his book, given that I’d never in a million years know to seek it out otherwise. The second in an intended trilogy about the lives of teenagers in Boston (after 1979’s Billy in the Lowlands, starring Tomaszewski as the same character), it tells the tale of a fateful night in the lives of a group of black and white teens in a low-income Boston neighborhood, and unfolds from there in a refreshingly uncontrived fashion. The remainder of the loosely structured storyline primarily follows the central protagonist (Harrington) as she grapples with the decision she and her boyfriend have made, and the challenging consequences it unleashes.

The performances throughout (by a largely little-known cast) are convincingly natural — we really believe in these characters and the lives they lead. The biggest name in the bunch is character actor Lance Henriksen, whose face you’ll likely recognize (he’s appeared in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Prince of the City, The Right Stuff, and The Terminator, to name just a few Peary titles); his role here as the trucker boyfriend of Harrington’s mother’s (Pamela Payton-Wright) rings true all the way. In an obscure bit of trivia, this film is primarily “remembered” today (if at all) for “featuring” eight-year-old Ben Affleck in his movie debut. When I read this, I went back to try to find him, and spent a good 10 minutes or so scrolling back and forth between various scenes, without much luck. Finally, I found the following brief shot of him sitting on the sofa with his older sister:

So, for any curious fans, there you go.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • An authentic look at race relations and life in Boston in the early ’80s
  • Fine performances by a cast of little-known actors


  • Lance Henriksen as Jimmy
  • Confident direction by Jan Egleson

Must See?
No, but it’s certainly worth a look if you happen to locate a copy. Listed as a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

Radio Ranch (1935)

Radio Ranch (1935)

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“If we could capture Gene Autry, Radio Ranch would soon become deserted, and the entrance to our underground kingdom would remain forever undiscovered.”

Synopsis:
When singing cowboy Gene Autry is kidnapped by inhabitants of a uranium-rich kingdom in the middle of the earth, it’s up to two of his devoted young radio fans — Frankie (Frankie Darro) and Betsy (Betsy King Ross) — to rescue him.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Kidnapping
  • Musicals
  • Science Fiction
  • Westerns

Response to Peary’s Review:
As Peary notes, “lovers of ‘B’ westerns and sci-fi serials will get a kick out of this feature, which was condensed from the popular 12-part Mascot serial, The Phantom Empire” (now available in its original episodic form on DVD). Radio Ranch offers a truly heady mix of genres and elements (horses! songs! robots! revolutionaries! uranium thieves! an underground death chamber!), and seems squarely designed to appeal to adventure-seeking youngsters of the day. Playing himself, Gene Autry stars as “a radio singing star who discovers that crooks are trying to get uranium on his land”, and, “while running for his life… happens upon the cave entrance to a futuristic city… 20,000 feet below his Radio Ranch”, where he’s promptly captured and must be rescued by his brave young friends. As you’d expect, the acting is at the level of grammar school children putting on an after-school performance — and the costumes and sets aren’t much more sophisticated (the silly robot costumes were actually re-purposed in a Joan Crawford flick!). Meanwhile, the dialogue is about as basic as can be:

“Autry has escaped! You must find him at once and bring him to our rebel headquarters!”

It’s not exactly scintillating stuff — but it remains fascinating simply from a historical perspective.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • A representative look at 1930s serial films

Must See?
Yes, as a classic example of the serial “kiddie flick”. Check out Moria’s review for a nice overview of the genre. As a public domain title, Radio Ranch is available for free viewing on www.archive.org.

Categories

  • Historical Importance

Links: