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Category: Original Reviews

Responses to Peary’s “must see” movie reviews, as well as my own “must see” movie reviews up to and after 1986 (when Peary’s book was published).

Nun’s Story, The (1959)

Nun’s Story, The (1959)

“Your personal wishes cease to exist when you enter that door.”

Synopsis:
The daughter (Audrey Hepburn) of a renowned surgeon (Dean Jagger) becomes a nun and is sent to the Belgian Congo, where she works with Dr. Fortunati (Peter Finch) in a hospital and struggles to remain true to the tenets of her faith.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Africa
  • Audrey Hepburn Films
  • Dean Jagger Films
  • Doctors and Nurses
  • Fred Zinnemann Films
  • Mildred Dunnock Films
  • Niall MacGinnis Films
  • Nuns
  • Peter Finch Films

Review:
Upon learning that Fred Zinnemann’s 2.5-hour The Nun’s Story — based on a factually-inspired novel by Kathryn Hulme — became Warner Brothers’ highest grossing film at the time of its release, one feels a renewed respect for the tolerances and interests of mid-century American audiences, given that it’s a lengthy, serious, introspective movie about the quest for a meaningful spiritual existence. Yet it was likely the undeniable star-power of Audrey Hepburn — in perhaps her best-suited role — that drew viewers to the theater; while there’s nary a Dior outfit in sight, she remains as captivating to watch as ever. Her wonderfully expressive face tells us everything we need to know about the complicated trajectory her character chooses to undergo, shedding her prior identity as Gabrielle van der Mal — beloved daughter of a devoted father (Dean Jagger) — to become “Sister Luke”.

The film’s first half-hour is arguably its most compelling — simply from an ethnographic perspective — as we’re made privy to the ritualistic experiences of novitiate nuns, whose lives are conducted largely in silence. After this, the narrative turns to the quietly compelling drama of Hepburn’s struggle to remain “Selfless”, as she’s trained for work as a nurse, and is given no choice in where she’s sent or who she’s asked to work with. Audiences must have wondered what — if anything — would be made of Sister Luke’s close working situation with Peter Finch’s enigmatic and handsome Dr. Fortunati (what a name!); thankfully, both the script and the performances preserve the essence of their platonic mutual respect for one another. The film’s final half-hour, as Sister Luke reaches a crisis in her personal identity, serves as a fine culmination to the meaty and respectful narrative we’ve experienced until then.

In sum, The Nun’s Story will likely surprise you in the way it manages to present a saga of spiritual angst within such a compelling and engaging narrative framework. In a way, this would make a fascinating double-bill with Black Narcissus (1947), given that the two films — though obviously told in radically divergent cinematic styles — are thematically related in that they are both concerned with nuns who question their devotion to their order. Both films also feature a fine cast of supporting performers: as DVD Savant notes, The Nun’s Story offers a virtual “Who’s Who of professional actresses” popping up at various times throughout its narrative, including Edith Evans, Peggy Ashcroft, Mildred Dunnock, Beatrice Straight, Patricia Collinge, Ruth White, Colleen Dewhurst, and Dorothy Alison (the latter in a truly heartbreaking and memorable bit part). The male roster, while naturally smaller, is also impressive, and includes not only Finch but Dean Jagger (in a small but pivotal role as Hepburn’s father), Lionel Jeffries, and Niall MacGinnis. The collective energies that went into crafting this lovingly told, powerful tale make it well worth a film fanatic’s time to sit through.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Audrey Hepburn as Sister Luke (nominated by Peary as one of the Best Actresses of the Year in his Alternate Oscars)
  • Peter Finch as Dr. Fortunati
  • Many fine supporting performances

  • The fascinating first half-hour, in which Hepburn is indoctrinated into her order

  • An interesting ethnographic glimpse at life in the Congo


  • Franz Planer’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as a surprisingly powerful film about spiritual faith and personal identity. Listed as a film with Historical Importance in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Historically Relevant

Links:

Blue Dahlia, The (1946)

Blue Dahlia, The (1946)

“Just don’t get too complicated, Eddie. When a man gets too complicated, he’s unhappy. And when he’s unhappy, his luck runs out.”

Synopsis:
A veteran (Alan Ladd) returning from active duty in WWII with his two buddies (William Bendix and Hugh Beaumont) is disturbed to learn that his wife (Doris Dowling) has been carrying on an affair with a shady nightclub owner (Howard Da Silva). When his wife is murdered later that evening, Ladd becomes a prime suspect and hits the road, accidentally meeting Da Silva’s estranged wife (Veronica Lake) along the way.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Alan Ladd Films
  • Falsely Accused
  • George Marshall Films
  • Murder Mystery
  • Veronica Lake Films
  • Veterans
  • William Bendix Films

Review:
The Blue Dahlia is notorious for being the only film with an original script by Raymond Chandler (his novels were all adapted for the screen by other writers) — and when reading about the trouble he had actually completing the screenplay, it’s easy to understand why. With that said, the film itself remains an enjoyable, if uneven, entry in the film noir genre — one which showcases Chandler’s typically pulpy dialogue and characters, and offers a reasonably satisfying cinematic experience overall. Diminutive romantic leads Ladd and Lake were cast together for the third time (after This Gun For Hire and the non-Peary-listed The Glass Key, both made in 1942), and they make a visually appealing “couple” — but the problem is that their “relationship” together (not to mention Lake’s ambiguously problematic marriage to Da Silva) is never adequately defined or developed. Chandler notoriously referred to Lake as “Moronica” Lake, and one can’t help wondering whether his disdain for her as an actress bled over into the lack of care he took in crafting her character. Regardless, it’s a frustrating flaw in the narrative.

The central murder mystery, however, remains both taut and suspenseful, with the killer’s identity coming as a true surprise (don’t read too much about the movie online, as most reviews immediately give away a form of spoiler). Ladd is appropriately brooding and wary — if ultimately not quite as charismatic as, say, Bogart — playing a veteran who comes home to a truly nasty “surprise” in the form of his openly disdainful and philandering wife (one desperately wonders what their relationship was like pre-war; what drew the two of them together in the first place?). Meanwhile, Bendix turns in yet another solid supporting performance in a critical role as Ladd’s plate-headed buddy; the opening scene in a bar nicely establishes his character’s bugaboo. Da Silva is equally effective in a tricky role as a nightclub owner with a shady past who seems to regret having gotten involved with Dowling in the first place, and Will Wright is instantly smarmy as a house detective who’s a little too interested in the welfare of his most attractive clients.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Stark, noir-ish cinematography by Lionel Linden
  • William Bendix as Buzz
  • Howard Da Silva as Eddie Harwood
  • Will Wright as “Dad” Newell
  • Fine, hard-boiled dialogue by Chandler:

    “It’s funny, but practically all people were strangers when I met them.”

Must See?
Yes, simply to see Chandler’s only screenwriting venture. Listed as a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Historically Relevant

Links:

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

“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)

“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:

Christmas in July (1940)

Christmas in July (1940)

“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:

Dark End of the Street, The (1981)

Dark End of the Street, The (1981)

“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)

“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:

Gidget (1959)

Gidget (1959)

“When it’s the real thing, you’ll know it — as surely as if you’d been hit on the head with a sledgehammer!”

Synopsis:
A teenage tomboy (Sandra Dee) spends her summer learning how to surf, and falls in love with an elusive surfer-boy (James Darren) who aspires to live a “beach bum” existence like his mentor, the Big Kahuna (Cliff Robertson).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Cliff Robertson Films
  • Coming of Age
  • Counterculture
  • Feminism and Women’s Issues
  • Sandra Dee Films
  • Surfers
  • Teenagers

Review:
Based on a novel by Frederick Kohner (who modeled the protagonist after his own surf-loving daughter, Kathy), Gidget is primarily remembered today for offering Sandra Dee one of her most notable roles, and for spawning a near cottage industry of sequels and spin-offs (including the short-lived but beloved television series starring Sally Field). Upon revisiting this original iteration, however, I was pleasantly surprised to find that its unique coming-of-age tale is handled with honesty and insight, showing us the travails of an “underdeveloped” teenager who feels out of place with her boy-crazy friends, wonders when she’ll ever experience “true love”, and longs to be inducted into the thrilling world of surfing (then, as now, primarily a male sport).

The mocking disdain shown when Gidget first attempts to enter the surfing clique’s hallowed turf rings all-too-true and painful; it’s especially disturbing to see “Lover Boy” (Tom Laughlin) being sexually aggressive with innocent young Gidget while purportedly teaching her how to surf (thankfully, she holds her own just fine).

Where the film falters a bit is in the casting of teen heartthrob James Darren as Moondoggie, the object of Gidget’s affections.

He’s such a pill that we can’t help wondering why she persists in her crush (though of course, the heart knows no reason, and I suppose he’s good-looking enough in his way). Much more interesting, however, is the relatively complex role played by Robertson, whose character “The Big Kahuna” possesses an intriguing history as a Korean War vet; one wishes his storyline were given a bit more emphasis.

Then again, this film really is all about Gidget herself — and Dee is appropriately winsome in this central role.

She’s reason enough to check out the film once; meanwhile, film fanatics may also be curious simply to see the prototype for all beach-bunny films made thereafter (most notably the Beach Party franchise starring Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon).

Note: Residents of Southern California will enjoy laughing themselves silly at the notion that Robertson could successfully set up and maintain a ramshackle home for himself right on the beach. Ha!

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Sandra Dee as Francie/Gidget

Must See?
No, but it’s recommended.

Links:

Cover Girl (1944)

Cover Girl (1944)

“You’re gonna be a big star, Rusty — but you gotta get down on your feet, not your face.”

Synopsis:
A dancer (Rita Hayworth) performing in a nightclub owned by her boyfriend (Gene Kelly) is selected as a new “cover girl” by a magazine magnate (Otto Krueger) who was once in love with her look-alike grandmother (also Hayworth); soon Hayworth finds her loyalties torn between Kelly and a young producer (Lee Bowman) who promises her fame and fortune.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Aspiring Stars
  • Eve Arden Films
  • Gene Kelly Films
  • Love Triangle
  • Models
  • Musicals
  • Rita Hayworth Films

Review:
Rita Hayworth was a top box-office draw at the time she made this enormously popular Technicolor musical for Columbia Pictures. Unfortunately, its cliched storyline — revolving around Hayworth’s quick rise to fame, and the tension this causes in those she “leaves behind”, particularly her loyal boyfriend — isn’t innovative enough to hold one’s attention, and hasn’t aged all that well. Hayworth’s wealthy suitor (Bowman) is about as charismatic as a wet rag:

and Kelly’s frustration with Hayworth’s desire to take a “short-cut” to success (made possible due to a silly plot contrivance involving her uncanny resemblance to her grandmother) seems uncharitable at best. Meanwhile, only one of the songs in Jerome Kern and Ira Gershwin’s Oscar-nominated score — the ballad “Long Ago and Far Away” — lingers in one’s memory, and this is likely due to its use as the film’s overall musical motif.

However, Cover Girl remains worth a look simply to watch lovely Hayworth performing some fine dance numbers (she’s incredibly light on her feet), and to see Kelly’s “Alter-Ego” routine, in which he dances with “himself” — he purportedly labeled it “the most difficult thing [he’d] ever done, a technical torture”, but his efforts paid off, to stunning effect. Watch for Eve Arden in a standard supporting role as Krueger’s wisecracking assistant:

and Phil Silvers as Hayworth and Kelly’s annoyingly abrasive dance partner.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Rudolph Mate’s Technicolor cinematography
  • Fine dancing by Hayworth and Kelly, and enjoyable choreography by Kelly and Stanley Donen
  • Kelly’s impressive “Alter Ego Dance”
  • The colorful “cover girl” montage

Must See?
No; this one is only must-see for Kelly or Hayworth fans. But it’s worth a look simply for the dancing.

Links:

Summer Storm (1944)

Summer Storm (1944)

“When a man pities his rival, he’s preparing to pity himself.”

Synopsis:
In pre-Revolutionary Russia, beautiful young Olga (Linda Darnell) is married off to an older peasant (Hugo Haas), but secretly loves an aristocratic judge (George Sanders); meanwhile, a foppish nobleman (Edward Everett Horton) lavishes Olga with gifts in hopes of buying her favors, and the upstanding daughter (Anna Lee) of a publisher mourns the loss of her fiancee (Sanders).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Anna Lee Films
  • Cross-Class Romance
  • Douglas Sirk Films
  • Flashback Films
  • George Sanders Films
  • Linda Darnell Films
  • Love Triangle
  • Social Climbers

Review:
Based on Anton Chekhov’s 1884 novella The Shooting Party, this historical melodrama is primarily remembered — along with Hitler’s Madman (1943) — as one of Douglas Sirk’s first American studio pictures after his emigration from Germany. Film fanatics will likely be surprised to see iconic fey character actor Edward Everett Horton given a relatively substantial role here, playing a simpering, womanizing (!) aristocrat with comedic flair; unfortunately, as much as I’d love to give him kudos, his performance is ultimately more amusing than convincing.

Sanders is typecast in a somewhat serious role as a judge who falls head-over-heels for Darnell’s Olga; their romance isn’t particularly convincing either — though we’re meant to simply accept that Olga is such an intoxicatingly smoldering beauty she can’t help igniting the passions of all men around her.

Other than the rather pedestrian “suspense” surrounding Darnell’s social-climbing romantic aspirations (and an unexpected plot twist in the final half-hour), the film’s narrative tensions derive primarily from sticky class relations; indeed, the original story’s timeline was moved up a few decades to heighten the fact that Horton and Sanders’ sense of entitlement would not last long in the face of an increasingly disenchanted proletariat. Watch for a memorable supporting performance by Laurie Lane (Lori Lahner) as a maid with a crush on Sanders.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Linda Darnell as Olga
  • Laurie Lane as Clara
  • Atmospheric cinematography and direction

Must See?
No; this one is only must-see for Sirk completists.

Links: