FilmFanatic.org

Synopsis:
During World War I, a fatigued captain (Colin Clive) on the verge of a breakdown is distressed to learn that a former classmate (David Manners) who once idolized him has been sent to his company; meanwhile, an older lieutenant (Ian Maclaren) tries to help Clive stay balanced and sane until his replacement arrives.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Colin Clive Films
• James Whale Films
• Play Adaptation
• Soldiers
• World War One

Review:
Based on an enormously popular British play by R.C. Sherriff, Journey’s End is notable as the film which brought director James Whale to Hollywood, and provided Colin Clive with his screen debut. Whale had directed Clive in the original play as well, and much of the material remains overly stagebound (perhaps due to its status as a very early talkie); while a few outdoor battle scenes are included (with fine cinematography by Benjamin Kline), the bulk of the film’s action takes place within the officers’ dugouts, and consists simply of dialogue. Speaking of dialogue, the screenplay includes an extraordinary amount of stereotypically polite British banter about the war, which one can only assume is characteristic of how officers at the time might have spoken with each other; sample exchanges include the following:

“It all seems rather silly, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does — rather.”

“It’s all a damn nuisance, but I suppose it’s necessary.”
“I suppose it is.”

That damned, silly, necessary nuisance of a war, indeed! Meanwhile, in the midst of such civilized discussion, we witness a quietly powerful character study of a man (Clive is simply brilliant) struggling to reconcile the reality of his daily lived experiences with the stalwart persona he must maintain, for the sake of all his men. He lives in terror of the rumors he’s sure must be circulating about him (notably, that he’s taken to drinking at all hours of the day), but the storyline surprises us in its ultimate revelations about Clive’s reputation.

Viewers willing to sit patiently through what may be the most “talky”, least-action-filled war film ever made will be rewarded by numerous instances of quiet authenticity. My favorite scene is one in which the seasoned Maclaren (affectionately known as “Uncle”) and the green, gung-ho Manners are about to go up into battle; Maclaren reads from Alice in Wonderland while enjoining Manners to use these precious final moments to think about anything at all other than their imminent task. Less successful are periodic snippets of “comedic relief” provided by the company’s clueless cook (Charles K. Gerrard) and a rotund lieutenant (Billy Bevan) who seems resolutely determined to care more about his next meal than the chaos surrounding him. However, it’s moments like all of these, taken together, which ultimately help viewers to understand the complex psychology behind warfare, as these men prepare themselves in a variety of ways to face truly unspeakable horrors.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Colin Clive as Captain Stanhope
  
• Ian Maclaren as Lieutenant Osborne
  
• An incisive, literate screenplay
  
• Benjamin Kline’s cinematography
  

Must See?
No, though it’s certainly worth a look. Listed as a Sleeper in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review (spoiler alerts)
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A comedian (Peter Bonerz) struggles to find both romantic and creative meaning in his life.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Character Studies
• Comedians
• John Korty Films
• Mid-Life Crisis

Review:
John Korty’s second feature-length outing — after his uniquely satisfying debut film The Crazy-Quilt (1966) — was this highly experimental character study starring Peter Bonerz (then active in the Bay Area improv troupe known as The Committee). Unfortunately, the non-linear, improvisational storyline (co-written by Bonerz and Korty) fails to engage us on anything other than a superficial level; the central protagonist’s quest for satisfaction in both his career and his love life never really sustains our interest, largely because we’re not emotionally invested in this likable but self-absorbed character. As the film opens, we see that Bonerz’ “Perry” has recently broken up with a long-time girlfriend (though we don’t learn why); throughout the course of the movie, he sleeps with various women who present themselves to him, but learn next to nothing about any of them. Meanwhile, we see Perry’s resentment at having to bastardize his creative talents by contributing ideas to a marketing firm — which ironically leads to one of the film’s most engaging and inventive sequences, as we see stop-motion advertisements Bonerz has dreamed up for bug spray; one can’t help thinking of Korty’s later work on the enormously inventive Twice Upon a Time (1983).

When Perry throws a tantrum and demands to be given a chance to put on a solo show, we’re curious to see what he’ll come up with — but the result is imminently forgettable. Meanwhile, the rest of the film turns into essentially a meandering road trip, as Bonerz leaves the city (to where, we’ve never sure) and encounters a variety of diverse individuals. I won’t say more, at risk of giving away too much of the plot, but suffice it to say that the final half-hour or so consists of a series of intriguingly cinéma vérité encounters without nearly enough narrative context to sustain them. Ultimately, the entire affair comes across as simply self-indulgent — which is not to say it doesn’t hold interest on some level. Korty is a strong enough director that even his overly experimental, New Wave-inspired cinematic palette — including frequent shifts from b&w cinematography to various tinted hues — can be forgiven as simply an attempt to bring a fresh perspective to the proceedings. However, while The Crazy-Quilt is a hidden must-see gem (buy a copy from Korty himself!), Funnyman is only worth seeking out if you have a strong interest in the early development of Korty’s unusual oeuvre.

Note: Bonerz had supporting roles in a few big-name films after this — including What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? (1969) (not listed in Peary’s book), Medium Cool (1969), and Catch-22 (1970) — and was the coke-sniffing psychiatrist in Serial (1980); his best-known role was probably as Dr. Jerry Robinson on “The Bob Newhart Show”. However, the bulk of his career has been spent as a director; see his listing at IMDb for more details.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Creative incorporation of animation
  
• Peter Bonerz as Perry
  

Must See?
No, but it’s worth a look. Listed as a Sleeper in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review

Synopsis:
The ambitious eldest daughter (Brenda de Banzie) of a patriarchal shoe store owner (Charles Laughton) woos her father’s best employee (John Mills) into marrying her and setting up their own shop, much to the consternation of Laughton and her two class-conscious sisters (Daphne Anderson and Prunella Scales).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Charles Laughton Films
• Class Relations
• Cross-Class Romance
• David Lean Films
• Father and Child
• Feminism and Women’s Issues
• Historical Drama
• John Mills Films
• Play Adaptation
• Strong Females

Review:
It’s actually somewhat astonishing to be reminded that this classic comedy by director David Lean (one of only two in his oeuvre) is based on a stage play, given how utterly un-stagebound it feels. Lean’s masterful direction opens up the story to show us a pre-Industrial England in which feminism was just beginning to emerge, and women like Brenda de Banzie’s Maggie were truly unsung mavericks. Indeed, Hobson’s Choice is not only a droll comedic delight, but a notable feminist film, in addition to offering a refreshing skewering of class relations. To that end, Laughton’s Henry Hobson is a genuine paradigm of his time: he’s a self-satisfied, condescending patriarch who believes his position in life (as both a father and a business owner) provides him with de facto entitlement to boss others around, and to spend his own time lolling about in a local pub.

The storyline centers on Hobson’s delicious come-uppance — with the title itself ultimately referring to the fact that Hobson really has no choice in mending his ways. Interestingly, while he’s the clear antagonist of the story, we can’t help feeling a bit of compassion for him, given how inevitable his downfall is — and how clueless he is about its coming. Meanwhile, de Banzie’s Maggie makes for a most unlikely protagonist, but that’s precisely the point: from the very beginning, she’s posited (by Laughton) as someone too old and too plain to marry or make anything more of her life than what she has; she spends the rest of the storyline proving him wrong. It helps that de Banzie herself is a somewhat unknown cinematic face: her only other notable (supporting) film roles were as a female baddie in Hitchcock’s second version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956), and as Laurence Olivier’s wife in The Entertainer (1960). This makes her emergence as an unexpectedly strong force-to-be-reckoned-with all the more pleasantly surprising.

Peary nominates Laughton as one of the Best Actors of the Year for his work in this film, and it does remain one among many of his impeccable performances; no one was better at embodying grotesque disdain than Laughton. John Mills is equally delightful (if unexpectedly cast) in the pivotal role as Willie Mossop, a gifted yet intellectually challenged shoemaker who slowly comes into his own as a man of means. Every scene he’s in is delightful, but my favorite is probably the one showcasing the moments before and after his wedding night (with the night itself, naturally, cut out); with help from Lean, Mills masterfully conveys everything we need to know about this critical facet of his shifting relationship with de Banzie. Also worth pointing out is Malcolm Arnold’s instantly hummable score, which seems as much a part of the film experience as the visuals and storyline. This one is a true delight, and should be seen by all film fanatics at least once.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Brenda de Banzie as Maggie Hobson
  
• Charles Laughton as Henry Hobson (nominated by Peary as one of the Best Actors of the Year in his Alternate Oscars)
  
• John Mills as Willie Mossop
  
• Fine direction by Lean
  
• The effective opening sequence
  
• Malcolm Arnold’s jaunty score

Must See?
Yes, as a most enjoyable dramatic comedy. Listed as a film with Historical Importance and a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

• Good Show
• Important Director

Links:

• IMDb entry
• DVD Savant Review
• Combustible Celluloid Review
• Q Network Review
• TCM Article
• Time Out Capsule Review
• Chicago Reader Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A forever-boy named Peter Pan (Bobby Driscoll) flies into the nursery of the Darling children — Wendy (Kathryn Beaumont), John (Paul Collins), and Michael (Tommy Luske) — and takes them to Never Land, where they battle against evil Captain Hook (Hans Conreid).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Animated Features
• Fantasy
• Hans Conried Films
• Pirates
• Revenge

Review:
Walt Disney’s animated version of J.M. Barrie’s play-turned-novel is beloved by many, but ultimately remains one of his lesser classics. With the exception of the catchy tune “You Can Fly!”, the songs aren’t very memorable, and the animation — while representative of the fine work Disney Studios produced — isn’t all that distinguished. What hurts the film the most, however, is its disjointed storyline, which flits around through various scenarios (including a typically offensive one involving “redskins”), and simply never feels focused. In addition, we’re not quite sure who to be rooting for: while Peter Pan would be the obvious choice, he’s too much of a scampish scoundrel to feel much sympathy for; and though Wendy is a lovely character, she’s not sufficiently developed to be viewed as a central protagonist.

Other characters, meanwhile, are simply disappointing and/or ill-conceived: as Richard Scheib of Moria Reviews puts it, “the Lost Boys look… like anthropomorphized fluffy bunnies and Smee [Hook’s right-hand-man] looks like he has strayed in from a casting call for one of the Seven Dwarves.” Meanwhile, Hook (wonderfully voiced by Hans Conried) is too buffoonish to represent a real threat; his interactions with both Peter and “The Crocodile” rely far too heavily on tiresome slapstick. The most intriguing character in the film by a long shot is Tinkerbell, who never says a word, but says PLENTY with her expressions, body language, and actions.

Other than Tinkerbell, the most interesting aspect of this film for me (as a mom of two little kids) was the fact that young Michael Darling wears pink the entire time. This prompted me to do a bit of research, and I came upon this short article, which states: “Pink and blue arrived, along with other pastels, as colors for babies in the mid-19th century, yet the two colors were not promoted as gender signifiers until just before World War I—and even then, it took time for popular culture to sort things out.” Since the original Peter Pan was written (and takes place) near the turn of the century, this choice makes sense.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Typically fine Disney animation
  
  
• The refreshingly feisty character of Tinkerbell
  

Must See?
No, though naturally it holds some cultural interest (it was the highest grossing film of 1953), and is a must for Disney fans.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• Moria Review

Synopsis:
When a writer (Bill Travers) and his wife (Virginia McKenna) inherit a rundown cinema (the Bijou) previously manned by three aging employees — a doorman (Bernard Miles), a ticket-taker (Margaret Rutherford), and a tippling projectionist (Peter Sellers) — they attempt to turn it into a going concern in order to convince their competitor (Francis De Wolff) to buy them out.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Comedy
• Inheritance
• Margaret Rutherford Films
• Peter Sellers Films
• Rivalry

Review:
Film fanatics will surely be inherently drawn to the subject matter of this comedy about a young couple trying to revive an ailing independent cinema house (which shows nothing but westerns!). Unfortunately, while there are some genuinely charming moments scattered throughout — and one definitely gains a renewed appreciation for the skill involved in running a movie theater — the storyline itself never really takes off, making this a good-natured situation comedy with much potential but too little pay-off. Once the central conflict is established — McKenna and Travers must convince De Wolff that they’re serious in their commitment to running the Bijou — all that’s left is to watch our intrepid cast attempt to make a go of things; but their antics are mildly amusing at best. Meanwhile, none of the three “elderly” characters — played by cinematic favorites Sellers, Rutherford, and a nearly-indistinguishable Miles — are sufficiently developed (or given enough screentime):

… and the understated denouement is surprisingly discomfiting.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• An amusing look at the challenges of running an independent cinema house
  

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a look, and will likely be endearing to most film fanatics, given its subject matter. Listed as a Sleeper in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• Spinning Image Review
• DVD Savant Review (scroll down)
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A race of sexy blonde Venutians, led by Moana (Mamie Van Doren), are threatened by the arrival of a small crew of astronauts on their planet.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Astronauts
• Mamie Van Doren Films
• Peter Bogdanovich Films
• Science Fiction
• Space Exploration

Review:
This bizarre early entry in Peter Bogdanovich’s directorial career was produced by Roger Corman as a way to gain additional mileage from two Soviet space exploration films he had purchased and already used to make Battle Beyond the Sun (1963) and Voyage to the Prehistoric Planet (1965). The resulting film is — perhaps inevitably — a jarring mish-mosh of scenes, with most of the film’s running time spent following a crew of dubbed Soviet astronauts and their robot as they explore Venus, and additional scenes showing a bevy of telepathic blonde Venutians (wearing skin-tight pants and seashell bras) worshiping their god:

… and reacting with silent horror to the invasion of their planet. The two cohorts, naturally, never actually meet. It’s all frightfully sub-par — but interestingly enough, the storyline moves along at a quick enough pace that you’ll likely never be bored, exactly. You can’t help wondering what the astronauts are really saying (how closely is writer Henry Ney sticking to the original script?), and thinking about whether he was inspired at all by Woody Allen’s spoof What’s Up, Tiger Lily? (1966).

My favorite exchange:

Astronaut #1: It almost sounds like a girl…
Astronaut #2: Or a monster!

Same difference, naturally.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Moments of campy appeal
  

Must See?
No; feel free to skip this one. Listed as a Camp Classic in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• SciFilm Review
• Moria Review