FilmFanatic.org

Synopsis:
In early 19th century England, a socially ambitious orphan named Becky Sharp (Miriam Hopkins) seduces various men in her attempt to rise out of poverty, though she only truly loves her soldier-husband (Alan Mowbray).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Frances Dee Films
• Historical Drama
• Literature Adaptation
• Miriam Hopkins Films
• Rouben Mamoulian Films
• Social Climbers
• Strong Females

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary notes that while this screen version of “Langdon Mitchell’s stage adaptation of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair… restores several episodes from the novel, it differs in drastic ways”, specifically by eliminating “most of his social criticism”, failing to adequately express “how class pressures mold the character of Becky Sharp”, and making Becky “the one major character in the film”. While Becky is traditionally viewed as the “anti-heroine” of the novel — in contrast with the lead character of Amelia (played as a supporting role in the film by Frances Dee) — “Becky becomes our heroine [in the movie], the feisty figure whom we identify with or root for as she uses every trick in the book… to get what she wants.”

Peary points out that while “in the book she is ruthless”, the “script eliminates her many unforgivable acts”, leaving us to “see only her virtues”. He notes that she possesses “charm, wit, intelligence, resilience, [and] vitality” — and that while she “is selfish”, she “wants the best for her social husband… and best friend [Dee] as well as for herself”, and is “willing to sacrifice her own happiness so that they will be happy”.

Peary ultimately argues that while this film “may not be Thackeray”, it’s nonetheless “an enjoyable, if flimsy, period piece, with a likable heroine and a dynamic performance from Hopkins” (who he nominates as one of the Best Actresses of the Year in his Alternate Oscars). Unfortunately, I can’t quite agree with Peary that Becky comes across as a “likable heroine”, and I’m not overly impressed with Hopkins’ performance, in which she seems to indulge her worst tendencies towards shrillness and hyperactivity.

With that said, her Becky remains a clever, savvy heroine to be sure, and one can’t help sympathizing with her position in a society which so roundly rejects her from the get-go; meanwhile, her marriage to Mowbray demonstrates that she is capable of true love, even if her designs on men are always and forever calculated to help her maneuver her way out of poverty.

As Peary notes, however, the film is really “best known for being the first to use three-color Technicolor process”, and represents a “remarkable job [done] with [early] color experimentation”. He points out that director Rouben Mamoulian (with assistance from DP Ray Rennahan) “decided to use color thematically to express character mood, and added more and more color as the film progresses and the plot thickens”, with “every shot look[ing] color-coordinated”. He notes that his “favorite shot comes [early] in the film”, as “Mowbray and another red-jacketed soldier stand in the foreground in front of a hanging white sheet, through which we can see the black silhouettes of Hopkins and Dee — so within the frame Mamoulian contrasts color with black and white”.

He’s right to note that this is “very clever”, as is the film’s most famous sequence taking place “on the eve of Waterloo”, as the guests at a gala ball “leave according to their color group so only the ones in red remained in the ballroom”.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Fine use of early Technicolor cinematography
  

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a look simply for its historical relevance.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• Classic Film Guide Review
• TCM Article
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A sailor (Fred Astaire) on leave visits his former dance partner (Ginger Rogers) in hopes of rekindling their romance; meanwhile, his shipmate (Randolph Scott) falls for Rogers’ sister (Harriet Hilliard), but is scared away by her desire for marriage.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Dancers
• Fred Astaire Films
• Ginger Rogers Films
• Musicals
• Romance
• Sailors
• Winning Him/Her Back

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary accurately points out that the “hackneyed” subplot between Hilliard and Scott in this fifth Astaire-and-Rogers musical — an adaptation of Hubert Osborne’s 1922 play Shore Leave — “slows down the film and [unfortunately] becomes more important than the Astaire-Rogers romance”. With that said, the fact that Irving Berlin “contributed seven songs” to the soundtrack — including “We Saw the Sea”, “Let Yourself Go”, and “I’d Rather Lead a Band” — nearly makes up for the boring and predictable storyline. As Peary notes, the film’s “highlight” may be the “most playful number in the series,” when Astaire and Rogers dance to “I’m Putting All My Eggs in One Basket”, “during which Rogers intentionally dances out of synch with Astaire, as if she were a little girl… who imaginatively finds silly things to do with her feet and body each time they begin a new series of steps” — it’s a true delight to watch.

While the “plot has been criticized for making Astaire and Rogers into the comedy team”, I agree with Peary that this is “okay for a change because they’re funny” — at least up until the unexpectedly somber final number, Berlin’s “Let’s Face the Music and Dance”, which takes the characters completely out of their storyline but remains an “elegant and romantic” finale.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Fine dancing and/or singing by Rogers and Astaire, to numerous classic tunes by Irving Berlin
  
  
  

Must See?
No, though it’s definitely worth a look simply for the dancing and songs, and is must-see for any Astaire/Rogers fans.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• TV Guide Review
• Slant Magazine Review
• TCM Article
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A professional dancer (Fred Astaire) falls in love-at-first-sight with a beautiful young woman (Ginger Rogers) while she’s traveling through Paris with her aunt (Alice Brady). After a fruitless attempt to successfully woo her, their paths accidentally cross again when Astaire accompanies his lawyer-friend (Edward Everett Horton) to a hotel where Horton is helping Rogers seek a divorce from her stuffy husband (William Austin), courtesy of a hired co-respondent (Erik Rhodes).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Divorce
• Fred Astaire Films
• Ginger Rogers Films
• Mistaken or Hidden Identities
• Musicals
• Play Adaptations
• Romantic Comedy

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that “having stolen Flying Down to Rio [1933] from its topbilled stars, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers were given their first lead roles in this delightful adaptation of Dwight Taylor’s stage musical, The Gay Divorce, in which Astaire had just starred in London”. He correctly points out that the scene in which Rogers finally falls for the persistent Astaire “after they dance together to… Porter’s ‘Night and Day’ [is] one of the most elegant, seductive numbers in the entire Astaire-Rogers series” — indeed, it epitomizes the role of dance-as-lovemaking in the films, complete with Astaire lighting up a cigarette once the number is done. Peary notes that the “stars are appealing, playing very likable characters”; we can’t help but root for their romance to succeed, and it’s fun to see how they eventually overcome the mistaken-identity subplot they become immersed in.

Ultimately, of course, the storyline in any Astaire-and-Rogers film matters much less than its dancing, songs, and humor. To that end, it’s too bad that most of Cole Porter’s original songs were axed (leaving only his iconic “Night and Day”), but Astaire’s song-and-dance performance of “A Needle in a Haystack” is quite memorable, and 17-year-old Betty Grable’s rendition of “Let’s K-nock K-nees” (sung to Horton) is pleasant as well. I’m much less a fan of the “famous, extravagantly produced 17-minute song-dance ‘The Continental’,” which goes on for far too long — but it is fun to see how Astaire and Rogers manage to “slip past Rhodes and onto the ballroom floor”, courtesy of a clever (if patently obvious) ploy using a silhouette on a record player.

Meanwhile, playing “the ridiculous Italian co-respondent (a union man), Rhodes is absolutely hilarious” — he steals the movie whenever he’s on screen, whether he’s bungling his line-of-code (“Chance is a fool’s name for fate”) in an infinitely creative number of ways, or “calling his wife long distance” and boasting “that his nine-year-old son, whom he thinks he heard in the background, already has a voice that’s becoming deeper” (!). Alice Brady is effective as the ultimate ditzy socialite, and Horton is well-cast as a bungling lawyer struggling to live up to his father’s reputation — though Eric Blore (fresh from the stage play) is unfortunately given too few funny lines to make much of an impression.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Astaire’s initial seduction-by-dance of Rogers (set to the music of Cole Porter’s “Night and Day”)
  
• Alice Brady as Aunt Hortense
  
• Erik Rhodes as Tonetti
  
• A fun and frothy storyline
  
• Some fine solo dancing by Astaire
  
  

Must See?
Yes, as a most enjoyable Astaire-and-Rogers musical. Nominated as one of the Best Films of the Year in Peary’s Alternate Oscars.

Categories

• Genuine Classic

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• DVD Savant Review (scroll down)
• TCM Article
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A modern-day witch (Kim Novak) living “underground” in New York City with her brother (Jack Lemmon) and aunt (Elsa Lanchester) secretly casts a spell to lure her neighbor (James Stewart) away from his fiancee (Janice Rule). Meanwhile, her brother foolishly cooperates with an occult author (Ernic Kovacs) on his latest book, threatening to expose their true identities.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Elsa Lanchester Films
• Jack Lemmon Films
• Janice Rule Films
• Jimmy Stewart Films
• Kim Novak Films
• Play Adaptations
• Romantic Comedy
• Witches and Wizards

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that people who “saw this mild comedy” — an “adaptation of John van Druten’s play” — when it was released in theaters may “have a soft spot for it”, but warns that “otherwise you’ll be disappointed, even bored”. He notes that while a “dream comedy cast was assembled”, “everyone seems to have taken tranquilizers”, and argues that the “picture cries out for wildness, even slapstick humor”, thanks to “lifeless direction by Richard Quine”. I’m in full agreement with Peary’s assessment of this disappointing “follow-up” to Novak and Stewart’s romantic pairing the same year in Vertigo. Novak, while appropriately sexy and seductive, seems decidedly bored throughout much of the film:

while Stewart brings nothing new to his rather thankless role as a spellbound chump.

Meanwhile, Lanchester is typecast in a throwaway role as Novak’s ditzy aunt:

and Lemmon is merely serviceable as Novak’s foolhardly brother.

Smidgens of relief come from both Janice Rule as Stewart’s smug fiancee, and Ernie Kovacs as the perennially befuddled “occult” author, but they ultimately can’t save the predictable storyline from itself.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Janice Rule as Merle Kittridge
  
• Ernie Kovacs as Sidney Redlitch
  

Must See?
No; this one isn’t must-see viewing.

Links:

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review
• SciFilm Review
• Spinning Image Review
• DVD Savant Review
• Moria Review
• TCM Article

Synopsis:
A retired policeman (James Stewart) with a fear of heights is asked by his friend (Tom Helmore) to follow his beautiful wife (Kim Novak), who has recently become obsessed with her suicidal ancestor. Soon Stewart finds himself obsessively in love with Novak, and is devastated when events take a surprising turn for the worst.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Detectives and Private Eyes
• Framed
• Hitchcock Films
• Jimmy Stewart Films
• Kim Novak Films
• Mistaken or Hidden Identities
• Obsessive Love

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary begins his review of what he refers to as “Hitchcock’s most perplexing film” by noting the significance of the opening scene (a “chase across a San Francisco roof”), which demonstrates how the lead character, ‘Scottie’ Ferguson (Stewart), develops the debilitating vertigo that plagues him throughout the remainder of the film. He astutely points out that “after the cop who tries to save [dangling Stewart] plummets to his death”, “Hitchcock never shows [Stewart] being rescued” — thus, “by leaving Scottie in mid-air, Hitchcock instills in us the feeling… that Scottie has slipped into a surreal, dreamlike netherworld that exists between life and death, the present and the past, the real and illusionary”. He further notes that “because a cop died in his place, [a guilty] Scottie is attracted to death, which is embodied by the beautiful, ethereal, [suicidal] Madeleine” (a “well cast” Kim Novak).

To say more about the film’s suspenseful, psychologically intense storyline is to immediately give away spoilers; unfortunately Peary’s entire review (like most you’ll find online) is simply riddled with them. Suffice it to say that a significant death occurs about halfway through the film, and a further critical plot twist is revealed about 2/3rds of the way through — both of which should come as a deliciously unexpected surprise to novice viewers, thus adding to the film’s enduring legacy as a first-rate thriller. With that said, I’ll agree with Peary that the “unique and brilliant” structure of the film — in which “the picture becomes an intense, psychological character study of Scottie” rather than a potential murder mystery — is somewhat “infuriating”; like Peary, “I prefer the mystery unraveling to Scottie unraveling and becoming unbearably obsessive, tyrannical, and self-destructive”. Plus, as he notes, the surprisingly “tragic ending is… unsatisfying and depressing”.

Vertigo — which in recent years has steadily scaled the ranks of various highly regarded “best movie” lists, especially since a gorgeous restoration was completed in 1996 — is often cited as Hitchcock’s masterpiece, and certainly remains one of his most discussed and analyzed films. This is due in part to the fact that the story — in which middle-aged Stewart develops a near-pathological obsession with an aloof “icy blonde” — seems to mirror Hitchcock’s own idiosyncratic fascination with such women. However, while I admire the film on many levels, it’s ultimately not a personal favorite. Scottie’s treatment of Novak eventually becomes far too disturbing to easily stomach, and it’s not much fun to witness Hitchcock’s relentless assertion that when “given a choice of women, men are so weak they’ll always pick the helpless over the independent, the attractive over the plain, the frigid over the accessible, and the illusionary over the real” — indeed, the character of Barbara Bel Geddes’ “Midge” (Stewart’s ex-fiancee, who harbors an enduring crush on him) is never allowed to become anything more than a sorry symbol for everything “normal” and healthy Stewart is rejecting.

Yet regardless of how film fanatics may feel about the film’s ultimate ranking within Hitchcock’s pantheon, there’s much about it to enjoy — including Novak’s surprisingly nuanced performance(s), excellent use of Bay Area locales, and Bernard Herrmann’s justifiably celebrated score (one of his best). It remains a classic film ffs won’t want to miss viewing at least once — and likely more often, simply to absorb its complex psychological layering and storyline.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Jimmy Stewart as Scottie Ferguson
  
• Kim Novak as Madeleine/Judy
  
• Barbara Bel Geddes as Midge
  
• Fine VistaVision cinematography
  
• Good use of Bay Area locales
  
• Bernard Herrmann’s score

Must See?
Yes, as one of Hitchcock’s most highly regarded classics.

Categories

• Genuine Classic
• Important Director

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

Links: (spoilers in nearly every review – be forewarned!)

• IMDb entry
• NY Times Original Review (by Bosley Crowther)
• DVD Savant Review (scroll down)
• Film Site Review
• TV Guide Review
• Moria Review
• NY Times Review of Restored Version (by Janet Maslin)
• TCM Articles
• ReelViews Review
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
A simple country farmer (George O’Brien) is persuaded by his vampish lover (Margaret Livingston) to murder his wife (Janet Gaynor) on a boat trip — but O’Brien’s conscience gets the better of him, and he finds himself unable to carry through with his plans. He and Gaynor renew their love for one another during a romantic trip to New York City, but face unexpected challenges when they’re caught in a storm on their way back home.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Character Arc
• City vs. Country
• Femmes Fatales
• F.W. Murnau Films
• Homicidal Spouses
• Janet Gaynor Films
• Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that F.W. Murnau’s “American debut” remains a “great silent film”, one which “takes a simple, universal story and gives it startling emotional impact through breathtaking camera work”. He argues that “between The Birth of a Nation and Citizen Kane there is no better example in American film of visual storytelling”, given that the “expressionistic (sometimes lyrical) film… reveals the psychology of its characters from movement to movement through intricate lighting, camera movement and positioning, choice of setting, scenic design, and superimpositions (that reveal thoughts) and other special effects”. He points out that the “picture has a European look because it was designed in Germany before Murnau came to the U.S.”, and argues that the “acting is fine, with Gaynor and O’Brien showing why they were one of the era’s most likable screen teams, and Livingston making a devilish femme fatale“.

In his Alternate Oscars book, Peary names Sunrise the Best Picture of the Year, arguing that the actual winner, William Wellman’s Wings (1927), “pales in comparison” and “has dated badly”, and pointing out that Sunrise actually won the “Artistic Quality of Production” award, a category which was soon abandoned and is no longer remembered.

Peary’s not at all alone in his laudatory view of this visually stunning silent film, which is consistently innovative and atmospheric in its presentation style. However, one’s enjoyment of the story itself will depend greatly on an ability to view it as a fable rather than a realistic tale of infidelity and renewed marital trust. After all, Gaynor’s The Wife (as in Murnau’s equally fable-like The Last Laugh [1924], the major characters aren’t given names) manages to fairly quickly forgive her husband (The Man) for having homicidal tendencies towards her (!), allowing their New York trip to function as a second honeymoon rather than worrying about his dangerously mercurial nature. Meanwhile, the details of the entire narrative remain remarkably simplistic, in a fairy tale-like fashion; Peary himself refers to it as a “fable-morality play”.

In Alternate Oscars, Peary notes that Vidor’s thematically similar masterpiece from the same year (The Crowd) is every bit as impressive and “artistic” as Murnau’s film, but that Sunrise was still a better choice as Best Picture of the Year (calculated at that point from August 1927 to August 1928), simply given that it “turned out to be more influential”. He points out that both films “are about how a married couple’s enduring love neutralizes the hostile, destructive, corruptive powers of the city”; indeed, having recently rewatched The Crowd myself, the similarities are strikingly notable. Yet I found myself much more emotionally engaged in the travails of The Crowd‘s realistic (albeit “every man”) protagonists, while Sunrise‘s The Man and The Wife simply function as convenient archetypes, held at remove. Indeed, at times Murnau’s film edges dangerously close to stereotyping in its overly-simplistic presentation of city-versus-country, with O’Brien and Gaynor shown as naive hicks who can’t quite keep up with the pace of city living.

With all that said, there really is no denying the visual impact of Sunrise, which uses cinematographic techniques to tremendous effect, clearly demonstrating once again why F.W. Murnau is considered a pivotal figure in the early days of feature-length cinema. For that reason alone, it’s most certainly worth a look by all film fanatics.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Charles Rosher and Karl Struss’s cinematography
  
  
• Excellent use of “in-camera” effects
  
  
• Creative intertitles
  
• Atmospheric sets and art direction
  

Must See?
Yes, as a visually evocative silent classic.

Categories

• Genuine Classic
• Important Director
• Oscar Winner or Nominee

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

Links:

• IMDb entry
• FilmSite Review
• Digitally Obsessed Review
• TV Guide Review
• TCM Articles
• Jigsaw Lounge Review
• Silent Volume Review
• Roger Ebert’s Great Movies Review
• Reelviews Review
• Time Out Capsule Review

Synopsis:
When an aging doorman (Emil Jannings) at a fancy hotel is demoted to washroom attendant, he hides this shameful fact from his family and neighbors as long as possible — but could an unexpected change in fortune be around the corner for Jannings?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

• Downward Spiral
• F.W. Murnau Films
• German Films
• Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary argues that this “classic German silent film, directed without titles by F.W. Murnau”, “suffers today because of Jannings overdoing it with the self-pity and a happy ending that just doesn’t mesh with what went before.” However, he concedes that “Karl Freund’s cinematography is absolutely stunning”, noting that his “remarkable close-ups, Jannings’s dream sequence, and the opening street scene… shot through a revolving door” are “particularly impressive”. He argues that Freund’s “use of a mobile camera and his surreal effects were revolutionary”, and that “truly there are shots unlike those found in any other film”. DVD Savant’s review (of a newly restored version unavailable to Peary in 1986) provides additional insights into the movie, which he notes is often considered “the best example of German Expressionism”. He writes that “Murnau plans every shot to contrast the doorman’s proud position with his later, diminished status”, and argues that “the entire film is energized by a camera that adds its comment to each scene and each angle.” He notes that while Jannings’ performance may be “stylized”, “nothing about [it] is overwrought”, and further points out the “remarkable” set designs by Edgar G. Ulmer.

The Last Laugh is ultimately more of a cinematographic fable than a traditional full-length feature, given several factors: its rather limited narrative scope; the lack of any names given to the characters (Jannings is simply “The Hotel Doorman”); the lack of inter-titles (though written notes are occasionally used to good effect); and the admittedly “tacked on”, unrealistically happy ending. To that end, I disagree with Peary’s complaint that the epilogue “just doesn’t mesh with what went before”; instead, I see it as simply further evidence that the entire narrative is meant to be viewed from the doorman’s perspective. After all, the extreme reactions of his neighbors and family members — both to the glory of his original position, and the shame of his debasement — defy logic; therefore, the happy ending seems to nicely represent simply an extension of Jannings’ ongoing fantasies and delusions. Regardless, what’s most impressive about the film is — as both Peary and Savant point out — its visual inventiveness, making it an early classic film fanatics won’t want to miss seeing at least once.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

• Emil Jannings as the Hotel Doorman
  
• Innovative direction
  
• Karl Freund’s cinematography
  

Must See?
Yes, as a visually evocative silent fable by a master director and his DP.

Categories

• Important Director

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

Links:

• IMDb entry
• Digitally Obsessed Review
• Combustible Celluloid Review
• Roger Ebert’s Great Movies Review
• DVD Savant Review