tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45979311282682874352024-03-19T04:48:01.697-04:00MAKSQUIBS CINEMATHEQUENon-sponsored, Independent Mini-reviews of DVDs and Streaming Video New & Old, Popular & Rare. Over 5500 Write-Ups! SmartPhone Users can scroll down for the 'View Web Version' link to access all Posts, Search Box, Labels and other features. E-Mail: MAKSQUIBS@YAHOO.COMMAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.comBlogger5624125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-82299558008620826532024-03-18T16:20:00.001-04:002024-03-18T16:47:01.127-04:00ANNA (2019)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJMHp06SHTslkmSRkTBz7OxH_w3Qe0wNl63prfH8Yuxdzz59i_Jwzt_QcbrUH0cenGAr8bI8vXKUcLo20OiDBx_ye8_I0QqkRk0dWi__184rPpr9LtYskM2VYpw0N9uVJ_YkCTd32o1zaUoHZWnW1Rn0heL3QyG9pERkLgOzB5VDlXNvcCeQP_3J84k1T/s1159/anna.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1159" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJMHp06SHTslkmSRkTBz7OxH_w3Qe0wNl63prfH8Yuxdzz59i_Jwzt_QcbrUH0cenGAr8bI8vXKUcLo20OiDBx_ye8_I0QqkRk0dWi__184rPpr9LtYskM2VYpw0N9uVJ_YkCTd32o1zaUoHZWnW1Rn0heL3QyG9pERkLgOzB5VDlXNvcCeQP_3J84k1T/w294-h400/anna.jpg" width="294" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Hard to know exactly when French writer/director Luc Besson became a hack, certainly long before this project brought on sexual misconduct charges against him, leading to this SPY vs SPY thriller to receive something between a dumped release and a burial. Of course, there are hacks and there are hacks. Besson, a technically facile filmmaker to his fingertips, reliably puts out slick watchable product, here with a neat twist to the story and a tricky time-jumping narrative that put all the punch-lines months <u>ahead</u> of the set ups which he jumps back to cover for us. And the overriding twist even better as the recruitment of Russian beauty Sasha Luss for training as a Paris-based fashion model is really cover for her new life as an international double-agent assassination specialist spy. Only none of her superiors know she’s really a KGB plant, working for Moscow. Add bisexual action; John Wick levels of execution action; Hong Kong style Martial Arts acrobatic action sequences; and double-dealing backroom bargaining. But there’s no kick to the carnage; clarity but no involvement. If only Luss had a bit of chemistry with her three lovers: KGB-Luke Evans; CIA Cillian Murphy; hot haute model/gal-pal Lera Abova. Only coming alive against mean boss-lady Helen Mirren, her Ruskie controller. And thanks goodness for Mirren! Hilarious playing a cross between Maria Ouspenskaya, Lotte Lenya & Fran Lebowitz. And, to his credit, Besson knows it, giving Mirren the film’s last line.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Fair to say someone had thoughts of franchise on the brain. The posters all but scream female James Bond. But with a big financial loss and Luss's career now treading water, it ain’t happening.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-30185787897493138392024-03-17T16:20:00.004-04:002024-03-17T16:47:43.850-04:00NIGHTMARE (1942)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEmY4ZlpbNfCaQojeXIYgCBZd7vm_IArh4OxkByzUITzwiqkzu1LVCN9GIQQEpJA6XfVMbERbEwwiBFtuUnVA7xTCd-o0_b-qTNtn6hyVwWVTSTVZvD0NnKkf7vI0NJ4uWY5Iyoj5gHgfPgM-whI1y7uZodsq2zYtKtBu2Op4z_q4uedII4DwxQj8iSU_/s500/nightmare.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="500" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEmY4ZlpbNfCaQojeXIYgCBZd7vm_IArh4OxkByzUITzwiqkzu1LVCN9GIQQEpJA6XfVMbERbEwwiBFtuUnVA7xTCd-o0_b-qTNtn6hyVwWVTSTVZvD0NnKkf7vI0NJ4uWY5Iyoj5gHgfPgM-whI1y7uZodsq2zYtKtBu2Op4z_q4uedII4DwxQj8iSU_/w400-h310/nightmare.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">That generic title isn’t the only secondhand thing in this modestly effective Universal programmer; so too the plot which is largely patterned on Alfred Hitchcock’s THE 39 STEPS/’35. Here, Brian Donlevy’s gets Robert Donat’s spot as a London visitor whose chance encounter with a lady in trouble leads to a dead body and his picture in the paper as the presumed murderer. Yikes! On the lam, he heads north to find the real culprit, reluctantly helped by a mysterious lady whose antipathy slowly warms to partnership & a love match. The main structural change combining the two women (originally Lucie Mannheim & Madeleine Carroll) into one, with the murder victim now a different character. Diana Barrymore, daughter of John, has her highwater film appearance at 20, playing the combined role. (She’s good, too, but would soon be brought down by the Barrymore curse: drug and/or alcohol addiction.) Silly stuff, of course, and a far cry from Hitchcock, but not without a bit of swing & style under journeyman director Tim Whelan who got lucky with an unusually strong supporting cast for Universal: Henry Daniell, Arthur Shields, Hans Conreid & John Abbott. Lesser known Gavin Muir plays the main villain (the man with the missing finger in 39 STEPS, Godfrey Tearle), here running a Fifth Column for the Nazis. Whelan also got top-tier cinematographer George Barnes and an inventive score out of busy Frank Skinner. The two also with major Hitchcock connections; Barnes Oscar’d for REBECCA/’40, Skinner about to score SABOTEUR/’42. If only there were a decent edition around to replace the smeary dupes available on the internet. Much of Barnes' daringly dark lensing barely visible.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: *Scripter Dwight Taylor (who wrote PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET/’53 with Sam Fuller - <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2011/03/pickup-on-south-street-1953.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2011/03/pickup-on-south-street-1953.html</a>) was prescient, writing LONG LOST FATHER/’34 for Diana’s dad John Barrymore, about a long absent father meeting his daughter after twenty years. Not far off their actual relationship.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-60564666392699815502024-03-16T16:53:00.001-04:002024-03-16T16:53:33.908-04:00LES HIRONDELLES DE KABOUL / THE SWALLOWS OF KABUL (2019)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmZijziNnTY9LNlLJC7V4cCCv-rXz64jqrgR_PH9NF_dCNhV5A8ofjOBgFEPBZMue2c8TlphNTUiTwXp1vm1KvHM4j1_jOz6biNNdNOphyEew8qQO7sIob0a59NZGo7KRe82ofnJ_dU-9rrzyi5NLW-y-LhKl-O5SwM6A55Tj3QsXp8MtPsgHUhHgSCTH/s982/swallows%20of%20kabul.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="982" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmZijziNnTY9LNlLJC7V4cCCv-rXz64jqrgR_PH9NF_dCNhV5A8ofjOBgFEPBZMue2c8TlphNTUiTwXp1vm1KvHM4j1_jOz6biNNdNOphyEew8qQO7sIob0a59NZGo7KRe82ofnJ_dU-9rrzyi5NLW-y-LhKl-O5SwM6A55Tj3QsXp8MtPsgHUhHgSCTH/w294-h400/swallows%20of%20kabul.jpg" width="294" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Strong meat drawn in the style of storybook watercolors (stunningly so, often with characters simplified to little more than a slash & a dab of wash), Zabou Breitman & Eléa Gobbé-Mévellec’s animated film (from Yasmina Khadra’s novel) has a Dickensian narrative pull and structure to it, detailing the lives of a few ‘ordinary’ people in the destroyed city of Kabul under the Taliban where life is very much ‘the worst of times.’ The main characters are a young married couple (University prof; artist), chafing against zealot religious rules & regulations, living in virtual imprisonment in their empty apartment. (For the wife, having to wear the burka to go out a particular horror.) And the male jailer at a women’s prison, living thru the final days of his cancer ravaged wife. An accidental death will bring the two stories together, revealing a chance for escape, but only thru unimaginable tragedy. The climax a particular horror as a soccer game against a visiting Pakistani team gets a special opening act: political & religious motivated public executions (in a variety of methods) for your approval and entertainment. If this sort of horror true? Would a foreign team agree to such a thing? Devastating stuff, even with the distancing format of a Dickensian drama, presumably straight from the novel. Here, purposefully done in an enchantingly lovely visual style that only makes the Taliban religious madness & mania stand out in grisly relief.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL: Surprising to see that Marjane Satrapi’s superb PERSEPOLIS/’07, a highly stylized b&w animated film about a girl’s coming-of-age under the Islamic Revolution in Iran, came out five years <u>after</u> Yasmina Khadra’s 2002 novel was published.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-91251023817628014292024-03-15T16:36:00.000-04:002024-03-15T16:36:56.972-04:00WINTER SLEEP (2014)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_pQoCi0viFwXAvyvzGBNxX8UW8L9zaqYb1Tv-58K4bscZkj2afA72jAi0XpGaq85ejK5eoG8JIXUs-GMEev5VJJNbagjg4tDuC5KoiD4dHld8oN_Ur2nVVAQVLur0PcM7vUvwAmLQg04ZRTBePSfcpGmMr6jRWTa4mpsrpMvJ3C4l0PnEzl14JCDJWs5q/s1173/winter%20sleep.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="1173" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_pQoCi0viFwXAvyvzGBNxX8UW8L9zaqYb1Tv-58K4bscZkj2afA72jAi0XpGaq85ejK5eoG8JIXUs-GMEev5VJJNbagjg4tDuC5KoiD4dHld8oN_Ur2nVVAQVLur0PcM7vUvwAmLQg04ZRTBePSfcpGmMr6jRWTa4mpsrpMvJ3C4l0PnEzl14JCDJWs5q/w400-h272/winter%20sleep.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Winning Cannes’ Grand Jury Prize (shh - that’s second place) on ONCE UPON A TIME IN ANATOLIA/’11, Iranian filmmaker Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s returned after three years for the Palme d’Or (that’s first) with this fascinating, if punishing work. Fascinating in its look at rural Anatolian terrain and people, centered around a relatively wealthy family who run a tourist lodge stunningly set in some hard to reach foothills off the vast Anatolian steppes. Punishing in its formality, pacing, sheer length (3+ hours) and in detailing an entire culture & society stymied by passive/aggressive behavior; subtly (and not so subtly) attacking relatives, friends, employees, tenants and casual acquaintances in a manner so polite they needn’t act behind their back. You could pull your hair out in frustration; imagine what it’s like for them! Top dog is the lodge owner, a former actor and current pontificating bore (with the local newspaper column to prove it), patronizing to one and all in an even-handed manner that only makes it worse. (Played by Haluk Bilginer, he’s also a James Mason lookalike.) And with the annoying habit of mostly being right! Hard to win sympathy when you politely dispossess poor tenants late with the rent; deal with a disagreeable sister divorced into your household; patronize your much younger wife whose only wish is to do something on her own and play Miss Dilettante Charitable Cause with other people’s donations till it blows up in her face; just as you said it would. All this disturbingly engrossing as long as you can lower your heartbeat to match Ceylan’s steady but slow pulse. He certainly manages striking compositions to help get you thru all the dramatic caesurae.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: A personal pet peeve, but does anybody ever believe characters on stage & screen ripping up or burning piles of cash to prove a point?</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-7309206874938373632024-03-14T15:50:00.000-04:002024-03-14T15:50:42.721-04:00SUNSHINE (2007)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uBqRcVRQorMDULHT37YGVhtEzGSRrkpdeDoI-GTkOKVJ_g4t7RGYtsXD1sApfOOzYQTYlumcLl69K6aje2kf1K0tsdloWf3hUmLdgkOW40EUyjcFut_qfSAhLJtUaOGeOap4CP0fj5WoIikJDVZUU5_BJCxfVqufc-EvtkzSUYKYck1VhHMXvVLoFDw-/s1024/sunshine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="779" data-original-width="1024" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uBqRcVRQorMDULHT37YGVhtEzGSRrkpdeDoI-GTkOKVJ_g4t7RGYtsXD1sApfOOzYQTYlumcLl69K6aje2kf1K0tsdloWf3hUmLdgkOW40EUyjcFut_qfSAhLJtUaOGeOap4CP0fj5WoIikJDVZUU5_BJCxfVqufc-EvtkzSUYKYck1VhHMXvVLoFDw-/w400-h304/sunshine.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">The sun needs a jumpstart to save life on Earth in this Outer-space Techno-thriller directed by Danny Boyle, script Alex Garland. Two guys you’d think would know better than to make a 2001 Deep-Think/Deep-Space Sci-Fi statement pic from such folderol. Boyle, overworking his self-regarding Mission Quest plot like a comic grabbing his one chance to play Hamlet, piles on space station paraphernalia & graphics to prop up a standard who’ll-die-next storyline (EIGHT LITTLE INDIANS?) as a motley crew of solar astronauts try to reach the drop spot for their atomic payload where a previous gang (of seven) failed to deliver and presumably died. Cillian Murphy gets the big star push as the noblest techie on board, but had to wait on the big time when the film stalled commercially. Perhaps because the one big surprise proves just too ridiculous; perhaps because the sun glare backing the major events is so unpleasant on the eyes.* We don’t usually recommend sunglasses at the movies, but . . . or maybe one of those solar eclipse safety-view boxes. Better yet, skip the film along with the shades.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">WATCH THIS, NOT THAT: Avoided here, but isn’t this just a sober-sided ARMAGEDDON/’98? Without the gags; without Michael Bay; without Bruce Willis and the usual blowhards. Wait, SUNSHINE is sounding better by the minute.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *The film might have come with a Migraine Alert. And the big blunder that sets off a doomsday chain of events, is the equivalent of a man sent to investigate rainstorms, but forgetting to bring his umbrella.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-75112752248245391172024-03-13T16:28:00.001-04:002024-03-14T09:20:25.389-04:00KAIBUTSU / MONSTER (2023)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqr2yM7SvjAuCBai8SxvM8eq40jL3BEDfApfK1LVG1Q3b4DZPvWb3yWuEAsYMHn3OxDOyPyBWYNK98VKS5OAmZ_sz4v2kAA9gLN5rkqLq2vVPMAQhLgI_6hVmHq5KEjAu-oQN801oDI73BIPvjUdSPN70il9X2eKVzxJslJUKtSV6icRDjF0wpj5r52iu/s428/monster.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="300" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqr2yM7SvjAuCBai8SxvM8eq40jL3BEDfApfK1LVG1Q3b4DZPvWb3yWuEAsYMHn3OxDOyPyBWYNK98VKS5OAmZ_sz4v2kAA9gLN5rkqLq2vVPMAQhLgI_6hVmHq5KEjAu-oQN801oDI73BIPvjUdSPN70il9X2eKVzxJslJUKtSV6icRDjF0wpj5r52iu/w280-h400/monster.jpg" width="280" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">On the surface, Kore-eda Hirokazu’s new film shares many story & character elements with Ilker Çatak’s equally well-received THE TEACHERS’ LOUNGE/’23. (<a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2024/01/the-teachers-lounge-das-lehrerzimmer.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2024/01/the-teachers-lounge-das-lehrerzimmer.html</a>) Young public school teacher watches helplessly as a small physical incident involving a troubled student rapidly escalates into a major career-threatening fiasco. But compared to Çatak, Kore-eda is playing fourth-dimensional chess with a story structure of perplexing, yet entirely credible ‘reveals’ reversing how we thought things came about; whom we think is at fault; how the trouble started, who told the first lie; even what we think occurred. Ideas more in line with Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi (A SEPARATION/’11) and at times reminiscent of Kurosawa’s RASHOMON/’50 as we jump back to revisit scenes now told from someone else’s perspective with someone else’s ‘truth.’ Stellar directorial references there, yet Kore-eda retains a personality all his own while parsing out the difference between lies, exaggeration and honest misunderstandings without breaking a sweat . . . or our trust. A bit too neat in giving everyone a secret to bounce off the main story (for example, the school principal lying about a personal tragedy* or the boy’s younger friend having a bully for a father to explain something the teacher is blamed for), but this ’perfect storm’ of missteps is laid out in such clear patterns, we can easily follow each tit-for-tat error in judgement. The plot’s a puzzle, but a very human one.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: In spite of the great films mentioned above, what came immediately to mind was William Wyler's classic THESE THREE/’37, also about a child’s lie that blows up to destroy lives. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/05/these-three-1936.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/05/these-three-1936.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Don’t Japanese teachers have a union? They certainly need one! Though you can't help but wonder how much could have been avoided if the culture weren’t so rigidly polite, held down by restraint.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-42771859615779883312024-03-12T16:43:00.001-04:002024-03-13T09:25:12.822-04:00WAKING SLEEPING BEAUTY (2009)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_W3wEU3orvs0CfoCF0nJPFc4ic_p8TCh-p5QyV-nBHvVXvmQ6skfZHQ__7SYOjvOlM4xgnrPyqYB8JVQbhRSNy1oICaFJ9r6SqfAJ2GsV5LId1bjSLwboHj05MoNrbjuiDG647wRLzRrwldxzLloDNlWHXvKcGMJfV2Zsqi8d1agwN1t8XefkaqJw6G0/s967/waking%20sleeping%20beauty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="687" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_W3wEU3orvs0CfoCF0nJPFc4ic_p8TCh-p5QyV-nBHvVXvmQ6skfZHQ__7SYOjvOlM4xgnrPyqYB8JVQbhRSNy1oICaFJ9r6SqfAJ2GsV5LId1bjSLwboHj05MoNrbjuiDG647wRLzRrwldxzLloDNlWHXvKcGMJfV2Zsqi8d1agwN1t8XefkaqJw6G0/w284-h400/waking%20sleeping%20beauty.jpg" width="284" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Unexpectedly raw, honest and riveting documentary on the Disney animation renaissance of 1984 - 1994, a unique mix of corporate and artistic gamesmanship, largely told thru original source materials rather than Talking Heads and starry-eyed encomiums. First man down is Walt Disney son-in-law Ron Miller (as clueless a production head as anyone in town since Spyros Skouras at 20th/Fox in the ‘60s), this paved the way for Roy Disney to play prodigal nephew (of Walt), bearing Frank Wells & Michael Eisner as new co-heads and portent of his return. Still, after a bit of deadwood animation was cleared out (BLACK CAULDRON/’85 a particularly pricey loss) and the indignation of having the animators moved out of their old legendary building on the Disney lot, fresh shoots quickly generated, fully announcing itself when ‘Under the Sea’ symbolically stopped the show at preview showings of THE LITTLE MERMAID/’89. (<a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2022/12/the-little-mermaid-1989.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2022/12/the-little-mermaid-1989.html</a>) And that’s when things really get interesting behind-the-scenes as two sudden deaths and the rise of Jeffrey Katzenberg threatened to upset the apple cart.* With current Disney animation suddenly sputtering where it once hummed, the time couldn’t be better to revisit this period and see the knife’s edge they danced on.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">READ ALL ABOUT IT: *Katzenberg, universally loathed at the studio, comes off as a real life Sammy Glick (as in Budd Schulberg’s WHAT MAKES SAMMY RUN), consistently taing credit for decisions he fought against <u>after</u> they succeeded. And just generally being a dick.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-55896104254267657342024-03-11T16:28:00.009-04:002024-03-12T11:02:05.875-04:00DRAGNET (1954)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7fhH8hcBoiaHfGLVyUw1hBi1xS6oLYDdr8PbHAzRFXgtG6svJXkLzKj3TVBxPDMGAC9duCJVZPoqfMtRhsNq_4EbEWqE7YfkHaaNm4Via6xj9tVSbBmrRTWhcty63MTFvqbhPB2_wuMwGwoxbh1JdnrKt22XGOqdDviJ5MMLJRLTM1ktjMOcafRbN5Ry/s700/dragnet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="482" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7fhH8hcBoiaHfGLVyUw1hBi1xS6oLYDdr8PbHAzRFXgtG6svJXkLzKj3TVBxPDMGAC9duCJVZPoqfMtRhsNq_4EbEWqE7YfkHaaNm4Via6xj9tVSbBmrRTWhcty63MTFvqbhPB2_wuMwGwoxbh1JdnrKt22XGOqdDviJ5MMLJRLTM1ktjMOcafRbN5Ry/w275-h400/dragnet.jpg" width="275" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Curiouser and curiouser. As tv viewership rose and movie attendance sank in the ‘50s, two competing ideas fought to reignite box-office: WIDEscreen vs. DEEPscreen; CinemaScope vs. 3D. And, much like a later battle between Blu-Ray and HD, the fight all but over before it began. About a year after it started, films shot in 3D were being released ‘flat.’ Whereas WideScreen formats took off in a multitude of aspect ratios & systems. Which gets us to this feature-length edition of Jack Webb’s popular half-hour tv police procedural; the one with his odd staccato speaking style and underdressed sets. (Webb never met a wall he didn’t want to strip bare and paint over in matte gray or green.) The film is soporific, neither a 2-part tv episode reedited to feature length (see DAVY CROCKETT or THE MAN FROM UNCLE/THE SPY WITH MY FACE); nor a free-standing story using little but the tv title (Don Siegel’s THE LINEUP*). Instead, typical DRAGNET thirty-minute content (a mob murder to solve) drawn out to fill 88" in WarnerColor. To all intents & purposes, shot as if they were making a 3D film when they ain't.* Why else action scenes with multiple items directed straight at the camera? Why else knockout blows delivered right at the audience? Why else an eighty-eight minute running time? (Due to technical limitations having to do with only two film projectors in most projection booths, those 3D films ran in two 45-minute chunks with an intermission.) Was director Jack Webb too lazy . . . er, cost-conscious/efficient, to bother restaging for 2D, without gimmicky 3D POV camera positioning, <u>after</u> finding out Warners not only weren’t releasing in 3D anymore, but weren’t <u>shooting</u> in 3D? Instead, merely cropping the usual 35mm Academy Ratio Aspect (1.37:1) down to 1.85:1? Webb’s lack of response almost as weird as his mannered ideas on filmmaking & acting. On the positive side, a fair amount of L.A. location shooting, cool ‘50s men’s ware for the police detectives and a high gloss on the lacquered up/latest model cars to keep interest up in the first act. But things quickly turn sleepy when 30 minutes of plot get stretched over an hour & a half. Early views of Dennis Weaver and Richard Boone help, just not enough.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">WATCH THIS, NOT THAT/LINK: For a look at Jack Webb stylistics, try his next, PETE KELLY’S BLUES/’55 in WarnerColor and CinemaScope (2.55:1). OR: *For something considerably better, Don Siegel’s eye-popping THE LINEUP/’58, mentioned above. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2021/08/pete-kellys-blues-1955.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2021/08/pete-kellys-blues-1955.html</a> <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-lineup-1958.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/07/the-lineup-1958.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *This is largely supposition, but was there another Hollywood production planned & designed for 3D only to have the rug pulled out on them when the format was dropped by their studio, then continued in 2D as if nothing had changed?</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-22754279725511158932024-03-10T16:22:00.002-04:002024-03-11T09:47:00.063-04:00MR. BASEBALL (1993)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsA2tBlieI-2IPXvyz9oz0wMc-Xyfv4tMsBASmKUIUbtsCzhGGrsJdD3r-tN0DTW0ozO3UHWFtixubgsgF_ifo8cHt2dzIqi8UUgSRKWT3Pw2em76_ew6drOVaNi3BOSo_vvm1RebDDChn4-wfkjHeEZQe0QHsg8gOSdT25k4jiKqfqdGTcUD2-Z6L-U_/s273/mr.%20baseball%20-%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="185" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsA2tBlieI-2IPXvyz9oz0wMc-Xyfv4tMsBASmKUIUbtsCzhGGrsJdD3r-tN0DTW0ozO3UHWFtixubgsgF_ifo8cHt2dzIqi8UUgSRKWT3Pw2em76_ew6drOVaNi3BOSo_vvm1RebDDChn4-wfkjHeEZQe0QHsg8gOSdT25k4jiKqfqdGTcUD2-Z6L-U_/w271-h400/mr.%20baseball%20-%201.jpg" width="271" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;"><br />After famously missing out on Indiana Jones/RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK/’81 when CBS held him to his MAGNUM, P.I. contract, Tom Selleck continued to flirt with, but just miss, the big time on the big screen.* With the exception of THE LOVE LETTER/’99 (a Kate Capeshaw vanity project), this was his last try to crack feature film as leading man. And, like his other attempts, much better than its rep or box-office would have you think. Under imaginative direction from Fred Schepisi (and regular D.P. Ian Baker), finding new angles on an old game (and no Slo-Mo crap), Selleck’s slumping Yankee gets demoted to Japan for a tune-up and star rehabilitation. You’ll guess the rest (though a triple twist at the end faked me out), but the fun’s in how West Baseball is West and East Baseball is East and somehow the twain do meet. Some of the Ugly American cultural clichés probably a bit moldy even in ‘93 (why not make Selleck hip to sushi; ultra-smooth handling chopsticks; slurping noodles to beat the band <u>before</u> his new girl’s relatives noisily join him?). But having Selleck as self-centered asshole (with a terrific clout at bat) pushes him so far out of his comfort zone, he becomes more interesting to watch than usual. Elsewise: Japanese manager Ken Takakura* teaches him discipline; Selleck responds by getting him and his team to loosen up. And about halfway thru, those lessons start showing up, not only on the characters, but in the film DNA. Fun! (*And look who dominates the Japanese poster.) </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv67xIj1p8I_ETg1Ze4DuLeXr3EJKt_UqS-GFA39FXfsbZNgI_TiyJLQEnDzAnlsllEJRgiPPIj0E24YLrd7uYY9uxFw0oEtDfD31cvccXfkTuAhI7d9kSzBlcT0roL8EPu5b2aX_9XcggfnMR80Td2lArkO9HlL0d3NapLz1s0N6b1n3uHJWAPxkrrKs/s384/mr.%20baseball.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="281" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwv67xIj1p8I_ETg1Ze4DuLeXr3EJKt_UqS-GFA39FXfsbZNgI_TiyJLQEnDzAnlsllEJRgiPPIj0E24YLrd7uYY9uxFw0oEtDfD31cvccXfkTuAhI7d9kSzBlcT0roL8EPu5b2aX_9XcggfnMR80Td2lArkO9HlL0d3NapLz1s0N6b1n3uHJWAPxkrrKs/w146-h200/mr.%20baseball.jpg" width="146" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *Selleck was like a ball player trying to get out of the Minors and join ‘The Show.’ It’s nearly the plot of this pic. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Pace A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN's 'No crying in baseball' rule, this must be the <u>only</u> baseball pic in decades without a tear in sight.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-61427053962540534892024-03-09T16:43:00.005-05:002024-03-10T09:58:14.755-04:00THE SNAKE PIT (1948)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNsJD_4jejKJPWT8pmg8u711_EIVHAPDH3VkHGw0YmyVMDiMwO6WknXFZFq-v04WxlSsbNS0thrjalFJlNyVpTaKDDaSltQa_23rRR8QIKP5NRPHG4zS0sA7B0oYBTnmZBiSvkX-EtFYG80LJ2NFEimWVAS55saebz5wLPIfWP2ybhkVECA4WHaQcu1xg/s521/snake%20pit.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="447" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDNsJD_4jejKJPWT8pmg8u711_EIVHAPDH3VkHGw0YmyVMDiMwO6WknXFZFq-v04WxlSsbNS0thrjalFJlNyVpTaKDDaSltQa_23rRR8QIKP5NRPHG4zS0sA7B0oYBTnmZBiSvkX-EtFYG80LJ2NFEimWVAS55saebz5wLPIfWP2ybhkVECA4WHaQcu1xg/w344-h400/snake%20pit.png" width="344" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Even progressive films on social issues age better than movies about psychiatry and depictions of theory & treatment. The latest ‘couch-side’ manner and trendy terminology sure to get ‘bad laughs’ before the first-run engagement ends.* So credit all involved in this once shocking look at then current Insane Asylum practices for holding up as well as it does, at least up to some easy Freudian explanations laying out the initial causes of Olivia de Havilland’s mental deterioration. It all goes back to infant issues and bad parenting . . . don’t it always. Not that this need be wrong, but so neat & tidy; six minutes of flashbacks & narration does the trick.* But before that, Anatole Litvak’s film remains unsettling & effective (especially when it’s not trying to explain the reasons for her breakdown) and in its eye-popping look at what such public mental facilities were like at the time. (The film changed laws but decades would pass before many were shut down.) Leo Genn is solid & sympathetic as a forward-thinking doctor; Mark Stevens is understanding itself as the confused husband; and there’s an unusually strong cast of character actors as patients, all slightly batty/decidedly scary. Stand-outs include Betsy Blair (Mrs. Gene Kelly at the time), silent & prone to violence; Ann Doran as the toughest ward nurse; Jan Clayton, B’way’s original Julie Jordan in CAROUSEL, singing Dvorák’s ‘Going Home’ toward the end. But it’s de Havilland’s make-up free honesty & terror along with Litvak’s fearless imagination (the visualization of the title one of the great pull-back shots), that make the film and keep you watching thru missteps.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL: *Generally considered the first Hollywood movie to deal with psychiatric issues in a sanatorium environment, Gregory La Cava’s PRIVATE WORLDS/’35 seems laughably naive when it speaks to causes & treatment, but shows real sophistication in setting up the various hang-ups and relationship crises. It makes a fascinating watch between laughs, random insight and simplistic advice.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *More than a decade on, Alfred Hitchcock still felt this sort of explanatory summary needed by audiences to end PSYCHO/’60, though he undercuts patness with a final doubting closeup.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-7701375209841867232024-03-08T16:06:00.001-05:002024-03-08T16:31:44.570-05:00LOS ANGELES PLAYS ITSELF (2003)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBcWmuBOxbdK9mK-JxkBpA-4pIlkUzmgiOSXcKRbURcHI4QjS5s2jxBo7F2q8OBJnLtDV0K-UAOpsw1x1ErNGVYf9sFgNIzd129m-emtDdVJ33kr0Uf5pGHAiAUaN8ke3G7DKgvYhLArjpN7YDkG8LsP5qKeUwayuqyjtScBDbjN33-EJi06mNov04LsE/s655/los%20angeles%20plays%20itself.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="539" data-original-width="655" height="329" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBcWmuBOxbdK9mK-JxkBpA-4pIlkUzmgiOSXcKRbURcHI4QjS5s2jxBo7F2q8OBJnLtDV0K-UAOpsw1x1ErNGVYf9sFgNIzd129m-emtDdVJ33kr0Uf5pGHAiAUaN8ke3G7DKgvYhLArjpN7YDkG8LsP5qKeUwayuqyjtScBDbjN33-EJi06mNov04LsE/w400-h329/los%20angeles%20plays%20itself.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Thom Andersens’s superior essay film on Los Angeles and the Movies: How it’s been used; How it’s been seen; How it’s been altered over the years. Skewing somewhat toward ‘80s and ‘90s pics, but covering most of the last century, he’s held back a bit from the lack of real location shooting in the old studios days (though with exceptions and with studio sets in the mix). Exceptionally, Andersen’s treatise doesn’t cherry-pick to make predetermined points, he just seems to have seen everything; and seems to show half of it via rapid clips! (Keep your finger on PAUSE as you’ll want to write down titles for further inquiry.) He creates a sort of double history/double vision of the town, just don’t call it L.A., Andersen disapproves of the contraction. And you know he’s on the right path early on with a lovely stop to check on the interior of the much used/much loved Bradbury office building; a wonder of exposed grids; cubicles; cross-hatch gates & walkways. Another cool section covers L.A. Destroyed. Many more. Nice stuff on the different views from locals, adoptees & visitors. And when he does boil things down to top picks, he chooses well, with extended looks at CHINATOWN; L.A. CONFIDENTIAL; KILLER OF SHEEP; smartly opting for Robert Altman’s THE LONG GOODBYE over SHORT CUTS. Of course, many you’ll decide not to revisit no matter how architecturally, culturally, sociologically interesting. On the other hand, Bob Hope & Lana Turner in BACHELOR IN PARADISE/’61, directed by INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN’s Jack Arnold? Count me in! Andersen’s film a triumph.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Surprised he missed Richard Quine’s STRANGERS WHEN WE MEET/’60 which fits all his criteria and then some.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;"> DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: Many titles mentioned by Andersen can be found right here. Try using our Search Box, top left corner on the Main Site Full View Web page. Here’s a LINK to get you started: <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2009/02/killer-of-sheep-1973released-in-77.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2009/02/killer-of-sheep-1973released-in-77.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-46637554338248305332024-03-07T16:15:00.002-05:002024-03-07T16:15:22.245-05:00THE HURRICANE (1999)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xhbqptViEsjbw5APEJdvDqhZwZ3BlGz2VI3TYv6eb_OphgwGUT2vq_ftj3IcGvAcbP9YMRMfHdIfzA3tZiGwiNaQR8E4Nry5uIDeaVzl1WdkBAzY7Z0tBBnJc_9Zm9aou54T9dSHUnhQKD7N7HwbnargY-tuVzFABJcos8zYbebl-7mLk4f1GpVz6t1p/s512/hurricane.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="356" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xhbqptViEsjbw5APEJdvDqhZwZ3BlGz2VI3TYv6eb_OphgwGUT2vq_ftj3IcGvAcbP9YMRMfHdIfzA3tZiGwiNaQR8E4Nry5uIDeaVzl1WdkBAzY7Z0tBBnJc_9Zm9aou54T9dSHUnhQKD7N7HwbnargY-tuVzFABJcos8zYbebl-7mLk4f1GpVz6t1p/w279-h400/hurricane.jpg" width="279" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Producer/director Norman Jewison and his writers must have known the basic material in this largely true Miscarriage-of-Justice story about middle-weight boxer Rubin ‘Hurricane’ Carter, falsely charged with a triple homicide in the ‘60s, would play to an audience two & a half steps ahead of every legal setback, prison humiliation and racial dig. Worse, without careful handling, the tropes of Black civil impotence and White Savior syndrome (by well-meaning Canadians, no less!) could tarnish even the noblest sentiments. It explains why the first two acts are tricked out in non-linear fashion, with mini-flashbacks <u>within</u> discrete sequences in the film’s hopscotch timeline; action in the ring shot in b&w; a secondary story involving those Canadians taking in a Black inner-city kid who’ll come to idolize Carter and draw the two stories together for a third act. Here, the film restarts itself in straightforward fashion as a more traditional detective yarn, a sort of anti-police procedural to uncover the truth. This turns out to need three acts of its own. But with everyone now on the same page, the film stops having to reinvent the wheel, Jewison even comfortable enough to toss in a bit of showmanship bringing back his old IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT/’67 star Rod Steiger to act as Fairy Godfather. Not exactly light on its feet, especially when Denzel Washington’s Carter is asked to over-verbalize his thaw from prison toughness to flawed human grace. But it works; even when its aim is no higher than (Junior) High School civics class.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Though not Jewish, Jewison’s name helped get him FIDDLER ON THE ROOF/’71. Perhaps being Canadian (for real this time) landed this one.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Denzel Washington worked himself into fantastic shape to play Carter, but at just over 6', he’s a heavy-weight compared to Carter’s 5'8"/160 lb. frame, something that helps explain the boxer’s fierce personality.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-16149952173334811952024-03-06T16:20:00.002-05:002024-03-06T16:55:39.744-05:00LATIN QUARTER / FRENZY (1945)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBtt5pbtAbkKd-swmVxhLWZ331jzuf59172TSZ9JGh9j0kNo_gIbcWhdlt-sGo_0sk90Qa-kxNcRQd2APivtxSYUQFHgnLYaDGoyPYgM7dwwjQc1zFWDHa3eXpLIRbVR-hBH8oHG5q47Jj5GmwjE81mPREPpZE49Sjlz2rK4wVlfkCxuyS8Hue8oshu8t/s297/Latin%20Quarter.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="220" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxBtt5pbtAbkKd-swmVxhLWZ331jzuf59172TSZ9JGh9j0kNo_gIbcWhdlt-sGo_0sk90Qa-kxNcRQd2APivtxSYUQFHgnLYaDGoyPYgM7dwwjQc1zFWDHa3eXpLIRbVR-hBH8oHG5q47Jj5GmwjE81mPREPpZE49Sjlz2rK4wVlfkCxuyS8Hue8oshu8t/w296-h400/Latin%20Quarter.jpg" width="296" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Remarkably effective little chiller from British B-pic megger Vernon Sewell, expanding on his debut short, THE MEDIUM/’34, an early Michael Powell writing effort. Impossibly lux-looking for its budget, like a sumptuous Quota Quickie, with cardboard sets & trick shots creating a turn-of-the-last century Paris in the artist-friendly Latin Quarter. It opens with a spectacular traveling shot sailing past Notre Dame gargoyles, o’er a miniature model Paree, swooping down to narrow cobblestone streets and tenement life, cafés & hovels. (Modeled on a famous animated multi-plane shot from PINOCCHIO/’40?) It soon settles down to a starving artists story as poor young dancer Joan Greenwood (not yet famous, but already purring her lines) becomes eccentric Artist’s model; eccentric Artist’s wife (a marriage of mutual convenience: he gets a model/she gets room & board); then another artist’s mistress; and finally a Missing Model. And on the very day she’d planned to run off with her lover.* Months later, some amateur detective work and a couple of terrified psychics will help figure it all out. No real surprises in the solution, but atmosphere & style play out as if Val Lewton (Hollywood’s Prince of the suggestive psychological paranormal creep-out - think CAT PEOPLE/’42) had teamed up with Poverty Row stylist Edgar G. Ulmer.* If only there were decent prints instead of tv-sourced Public Domain dupes to up the visual ante and give this the presentation it deserves.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *That’s Derrick De Marney as Greenwood’s lover, best known for Alfred Hitchcock’s YOUNG AND INNOCENT/’37. Excellent in a dud-free cast.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: *DETOUR/’45, Ulmer’s zero-budget existential masterpiece, was out the same year, but the better match is BLUEBEARD/’44, from the year before. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2022/05/bluebeard-1944.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2022/05/bluebeard-1944.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-75876319388576376372024-03-05T16:48:00.002-05:002024-03-06T08:42:04.462-05:00THE UNKNOWN (1927) THE MYSTIC (1925)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1S9x4gSeFcxRzqIR4waPVzxBy_VbL-27wQqUGgX21e-nx2ErArotA6C_wbAUq679SLcZ1C9dBI03piqjgxVZHC-7w9CL-z9W3TAAG_iRYXlOr2waBg_p0ac_5Hxp_Ox6wlO7qgIm0gRNbsMv55vLwbuFChJ0pShsGtYTyK0L_52-Tlv8a8ZJjwLgCUAZ2/s345/unknown-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="220" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1S9x4gSeFcxRzqIR4waPVzxBy_VbL-27wQqUGgX21e-nx2ErArotA6C_wbAUq679SLcZ1C9dBI03piqjgxVZHC-7w9CL-z9W3TAAG_iRYXlOr2waBg_p0ac_5Hxp_Ox6wlO7qgIm0gRNbsMv55vLwbuFChJ0pShsGtYTyK0L_52-Tlv8a8ZJjwLgCUAZ2/w255-h400/unknown-2.jpg" width="255" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">To the extent that he’s known at all, director Tod Browning is known by his DRACULA, the 1931 Bela Lugosi original, creakyist of Universal’s foundation monster pics. Truth is, Browning never did become comfortable or find a working rhythm in sound film to match the weird wonders of what survives of his silents. And that makes this Criterion double-feature doubly appreciated. UNKNOWN, restored with ten extra minutes to something near its initial release length (10" from a 68" running time no small deal), possibly his best/certainly his sickest film, stars frequent collaborator Lon Chaney in a typically masochistic turn that goes farther than even Chaney dared before or after. He’s Alonzo the Armless Wonder, a circus performer who specializes in throwing knives <u>with</u> <u>his</u> <u>feet</u> at lovely teenage assistant Joan Crawford. Naturally he’s in love with her, but there’s a problem: she can’t bear to have a man’s hands touch her. An unexplained neurosis, but likely stemming from past sexual abuse; perhaps raped by her circus owner father. But wait, there’s also a solution . . . with a catch: Chaney’s armless wonder <u>ought</u> to be a perfect match, but he has a deep dark secret . . . ARMS! His merely strapped down for the act, and to hide the telltale double-thumb on his left hand, proof of his guilt in some unspecified, but undoubtedly dreadful crime. Yet Chaney would do anything (repeat, <u>anything</u>) to have the girl. And it only grows more perverse from there, taking in the girl’s father, the circus strong man who hopes to overcome her aversion, a medical surgeon who can be blackmailed into performing an unnecessary amputation by a double-thumb. Yikes! (And you thought SAW was OTT.) Utterly extraordinary stuff, which is more than can be said for MYSTIC, it settles for the merely extraordinary. This one, featuring a favorite Browning trope of a small confidence gang of hustlers ripping off the rich, features a Gypsy psychic (Aileen Pringle, delightful), her Pop, her would-be lover, and American huckster Conway Tearle (excellent!) who brings them Stateside to fleece New York Society with fake spiritual readings and messages from dead loved ones.* More well-made scenario than UNKNOWN, with twists & reverses, sacred & profane love, even a change-of-heart redemption for a tag ending. Both silent films as dynamic as Browning’s sound work is lethargic, and with no less atmosphere. MYSTIC also features truly splendid costumes for Pringle designed by none other than Art Deco specialist Erte.* (Double-Bill self-explanatory.) </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhROvpXY13o8-ZdlIG1g-Oz8mC_1z5w77XLORCP-q0vgWdEuZDEJ859r985yaijwSs3saqDUlJS8s77zLaAl-v27XTCBNXAlZQj11xFSiIuSpxb9dXP5wcnvvaCSHrzYhGOqjwuDQb1kCScWjkKqyGQmTGrxYHdZmi-LDpLdilxfsrQ0bsV6I9vmca4vS/s1186/mystic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="1186" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhROvpXY13o8-ZdlIG1g-Oz8mC_1z5w77XLORCP-q0vgWdEuZDEJ859r985yaijwSs3saqDUlJS8s77zLaAl-v27XTCBNXAlZQj11xFSiIuSpxb9dXP5wcnvvaCSHrzYhGOqjwuDQb1kCScWjkKqyGQmTGrxYHdZmi-LDpLdilxfsrQ0bsV6I9vmca4vS/w400-h263/mystic.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *Dean Hurley’s new soundtrack for THE MYSTIC is designed to mimic the style & even the audio frequency limitations of silent-to-sound transition era synched audio, with basic ‘Foley’ sound effects (steps, closing doors, gun shots) alongside music cues & lacquer disc surface noise from the playback record. And in THE UNKNOWN, note the visually poetic use of see-thru scrim curtains on many of Crawford’s scenes. Not a new technique (D.W. Griffith used it to fine effect when The Mountain Girl died in INTOLERANCE/’16 and tableau became tapestry), but it's unexpected lyric visual finesse from Browning. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *Pringle’s high society act hilariously close to one of those baffling museum-ready Performance Art experiences from world-renowned Marina Abramovic.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-53167904846024352592024-03-04T16:41:00.001-05:002024-03-05T08:15:30.582-05:00FLAMING STAR (1960)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkchCtRA-gN4fDC1c7lHWeM-BBsuKiEmyJAPjcxB3l4CrCokPpKI2-0YFzG-8NM3pqbSGHBK3UjHhX1Jb-GrFF5HCaR-R0Kh3pH9NmzycnFBL520EhcyMjKHGE9swYgfT6Q5-oOsYk4Z9NwCT7_7or7a5jhpfsPAfOq5W-sKkzzDV-0smibRtVRsrAP9c/s2329/flaming%20star.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1485" data-original-width="2329" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkchCtRA-gN4fDC1c7lHWeM-BBsuKiEmyJAPjcxB3l4CrCokPpKI2-0YFzG-8NM3pqbSGHBK3UjHhX1Jb-GrFF5HCaR-R0Kh3pH9NmzycnFBL520EhcyMjKHGE9swYgfT6Q5-oOsYk4Z9NwCT7_7or7a5jhpfsPAfOq5W-sKkzzDV-0smibRtVRsrAP9c/w400-h255/flaming%20star.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Envisioned as a prestige item for Marlon Brando, this Settlers vs. Indians Western caught a break when writer Nunnally Johnson opted out of directing and these major players were replaced with Elvis Presley and Don Siegel. I know, sounds unpromising: a Pop music sensation and an action oriented/tough-minded B-pic helmer. But maybe the gods were smiling or maybe the dramatic possibilities of Presley/Siegel were underrated. In any event, hard to imagine Brando & Johnson doing as well with this material at the time. (Brando directing himself in the navel-gazing Western ONE-EYED JACKS soon after helps make the point (<a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2018/01/one-eyed-jacks-1961.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2018/01/one-eyed-jacks-1961.html</a>); while Johnson, only an occasional director, never did have much of a visual identity.) No doubt, many script changes (by whom?) were made to help fit Presley into the role (he’s shockingly good), but Johnson’s basic set-up remains very strong with Presley’s half-breed (White dad/Indian mom) having to choose sides between Kiowas and Settlers; nicely complicated by his White half-brother (a very good Steve Forrest) who’s all but engaged to the White gal (Barbara Eden) whom Elvis has long secretly loved. Siegel’s direction is almost frighteningly assured, his ability to place people to let us follow events uncanny. Much helped by cinematographer Charles Clarke, pulling in the scrubby landscape as a major character. Siegel fought to keep the songs down to two, and even these are placed into a fake-out prologue before the film pivots to uncompromising action drama.* Yet Presley manager Col. Parker only had to compare grosses with the money-churning song-fest travelogue feature films and it was VIVA LAS VEGAS/’64 from then on out.*</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY (I & II): *Alas, uncompromising does not include Native Americans of any tribe cast in speaking roles. Instead, the usual ringers, here, mostly actors of Italian descent. *On the other hand, easy to imagine other actors in this excellent role, but impossible to think of any one of them blasting out ‘Viva, Viva, Viva Las Vegas.’ No small thing!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: This really is a tough little (resolution-free) story; more people die than you’ll find at the end of HAMLET.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-79383726234012433672024-03-03T15:47:00.006-05:002024-03-04T08:27:35.455-05:00ÇA COMMENCE AUJOURD'HUI / IT ALL STARTS TODAY (1998)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghsqaZOBjRNIjgT9tJbKyPh8hmP5_B6g_0CEA6f3bLn_50p65yxSUvM6_P8Pw6YQsE0fS8nszmZkuF_0XNJjCFfsr6wVSj_gPddyRUEmCu4fe8R5oy1GIRP3BG1ECJBZFdB5CP9df_oIphJxD8mWom1kbrhPVKDUvucU9-wkdZ3_hjAnI6wfvuyKiYiPt/s600/ca%20commence%20aujourd'hui.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="444" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghsqaZOBjRNIjgT9tJbKyPh8hmP5_B6g_0CEA6f3bLn_50p65yxSUvM6_P8Pw6YQsE0fS8nszmZkuF_0XNJjCFfsr6wVSj_gPddyRUEmCu4fe8R5oy1GIRP3BG1ECJBZFdB5CP9df_oIphJxD8mWom1kbrhPVKDUvucU9-wkdZ3_hjAnI6wfvuyKiYiPt/w296-h400/ca%20commence%20aujourd'hui.jpg" width="296" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Superbly realized/documentary-like look at a semester in a French public kindergarten in a haggard coal district town (Zola’s model for GERMINAL) from co-writer/director Bertrand Tavernier, working in his loose, late style. Philippe Torreton, who ran the award circuit on his previous film with Tavernier (CAPTAINE CONAN/’96, his debut lead), earned more top-honors on an utterly different characterization, director of an elsewise all-female staffed school. At first glance, the children so unruly, so unsocialized, so behind in developmental skills, you imagine it’s a Special Needs facility. But no, what we see playing out are the largely foreseeable consequences of deprivation (health, food, income, employment, government services), an overworked staff and an under-financed facility. One long-term teacher spelling out for us the decline in student attitude, behavior, even hygiene.* Tavernier, helped by his son-in-law co-writer’s twenty -years experience in the system, has a wealth of material to work with, organizing a roundelay of missed opportunities, small triumphs and major tragedies, while not ignoring personal challenges at home with the supervisor’s artistic live-in girlfriend and her teen son, currently acting out in dangerous ways. Torreton’s character obviously born for the job, even something of a saint in the classrooms he oversees, if much less so at home. Some of the administrative fights he takes up with an overburdened system feel a little pat, but mostly this is both impressive and often extremely moving. The film all but entirely missed Stateside, but try to find it on a service, perhaps under its French title.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: As mentioned, CAPITAINE CONAN, a WWI masterpiece from Tavernier & Torreton. OR: *See what that vet teacher was talking about in François Truffaut’s idealized portrait of school kids in SMALL CHANGE/’76. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2008/06/small-change-1976.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2008/06/small-change-1976.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-26513290038406633582024-03-02T16:13:00.003-05:002024-03-03T08:23:21.410-05:00THE AVENGERS (1998)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuncMBA_gLcmxyeo-Cnkt-DRCbbgYxKVSPaCf7O8am2ByekJHG2XvQ0Lg-nsniXDm3ghgVZwoEdgsbWAPz8YGqh4pZR9-ZQExeg3aeNcqhZSzvsohHWMoUYN3tYftY2j2t281_b33ecFyOPs1lvEyu0I2NIXlgD-kVe5aHDBd8nWadJ3liOAZRKw7_yKiz/s350/avengers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="350" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuncMBA_gLcmxyeo-Cnkt-DRCbbgYxKVSPaCf7O8am2ByekJHG2XvQ0Lg-nsniXDm3ghgVZwoEdgsbWAPz8YGqh4pZR9-ZQExeg3aeNcqhZSzvsohHWMoUYN3tYftY2j2t281_b33ecFyOPs1lvEyu0I2NIXlgD-kVe5aHDBd8nWadJ3liOAZRKw7_yKiz/w400-h304/avengers.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span><span style="font-size: 85%;">Lots of rumors on what the hell happened on this expensive dud, a wrong-headed attempt to get a James Bond franchise out the stylishly ‘Mod’ British spy series of the ‘60s. (Hence all the pricey, Oscar-bait below-the-line talent and top-flight supporting cast.) The original script was defanged; the original cut slashed by 5 reels after a DOA preview; the original release date moved to cover an open mass-market late summer release. All likely excuses; all likely true; none would have made a difference: the film misconceived at inception. As Mr. Steed, unflappable British agent for paranormal threats, Ralph Fiennes demonstrates (not for the first or last time) he’s less wide-release leading man than prestige actor. As new partner, Uma Thurman, lamely coifed & costumed, completely misses the frisson of constrained sexuality and leather-clad dominatrix styling that made Diana Rigg the face that launched a thousand Baby Boomer . . . er, ships. As main villain, Sean Connery (sporting a decent toupée for a change) gets to play something like his old nemesis, Goldfinger, controlling the weather as head of The Prospero </span><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">Project. (If only he <u>was</u> playing Prospero, the Shakespeare role he was born to play.*) Connery even gets a pair of scenes lifted straight out of GOLDFINGER: the underground board</span><span style="font-size: 85%;"> room meeting; the laser castration table. (One would have been enough.) Cut down to 89", this plays not like ‘60s BOND, not like The Avengers in its b&w ‘60s prime, but like campy ‘60s BATMAN. (Though composer Joel McNeely gets all the way up to the ‘70s with a John Barry like score.) Director Jeremiah Chechik & writer Don MacPherson caught most of the grief from the tens of millions lost; Fiennes & Thurman found more appropriate things to do; Connery started to plan retirement; while ultra-connected producer Jerry Weintraub was back on top as quick as you can say OCEAN’S ELEVEN/’01.</span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *Speaking of The Bard, the script has Connery quote Richard III’s ‘Now is the winter of our discontent,’ without understanding the line. ‘Now’ in this context doesn’t mean it’s now winter, but that winter has just now been 'made (turned into) glorious summer.’</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-17026805708445260122024-03-01T15:39:00.000-05:002024-03-01T15:39:10.490-05:00LE DIABLE AU CORPS / DEVIL IN THE FLESH (1947)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-xGiX1IT7oCKabM-s351Ihwk7UJk3U8IkOwQl2-0iLbdl-nsrAXrc1WlyA5nADDvL9tPl9vdG3zs9fzjqZ1LC-pEbbdBkTUgQ0xqVgRLDh5zQJP1pTOMDKVm00-8zur0tMIDQISu4OgyfMkqfcLYGyXTX7LKnEcgeDqAncVR1MoySdJUPEvQ2RVgDeUH/s529/devil%20in%20the%20flesh-him.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="449" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-xGiX1IT7oCKabM-s351Ihwk7UJk3U8IkOwQl2-0iLbdl-nsrAXrc1WlyA5nADDvL9tPl9vdG3zs9fzjqZ1LC-pEbbdBkTUgQ0xqVgRLDh5zQJP1pTOMDKVm00-8zur0tMIDQISu4OgyfMkqfcLYGyXTX7LKnEcgeDqAncVR1MoySdJUPEvQ2RVgDeUH/w340-h400/devil%20in%20the%20flesh-him.png" width="340" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Best known of Micheline Presle films (recently dead at 101, last of that generation of post-WWII/pre-<i>Nouveau Vague</i> stars) still makes its mark, but no longer seems as important (or accomplished) as it once did. Quite <i>le scandale</i> at the time, author Raymond Radiguet was only 20 when he died in 1923, the story something of a male <i>amour fou</i>, set toward the end of WWI when 17-yr-old schoolboy </span><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">Gérard Philipe</span><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">falls for the older Presle, already engaged to a soldier; beds her after she goes thru with the wedding; then father’s her child to set up a tragic, if weirdly neat ending. Once a very famous film indeed, now only nine comments on IMDb.com. Well paced and cleverly shot within a studio æsthetic (cinematographer Michel Kelber doing nifty moves in tight spaces), director Claude Autant-Lara able to coast on off-the-charts sexual chemistry from his equally beautiful leads. What a shock to realize Philipe, meant to be about ten years younger than Presle, was actually a year older and that he died 65 years ago. Their age difference, barely visible on screen, a real problem since it triggers nearly as much of the dramatic tension as her infidelity. Crucial details something of a lost cause with Autant-Lara. (Compare him with Jacques Becker.)</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHrg8Xn_FVIhO8Ccz_nopsWOS3B5qv4J5wm88at-lpf0P8pieJ17S3cfEPBhF_CAN1jttseYJsorkfjbnL6lH1skn-aNa2OcI2jUr48G-BZPbW2mP9_ZEZpt6uk2CeYkGKrd5-g9Yq691C6XkUz2VnRGca9ncZQ7vdyyptSVPXj57fgsQOrMn8D6orVHs/s969/devil%20in%20the%20flesh-her.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="719" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHrg8Xn_FVIhO8Ccz_nopsWOS3B5qv4J5wm88at-lpf0P8pieJ17S3cfEPBhF_CAN1jttseYJsorkfjbnL6lH1skn-aNa2OcI2jUr48G-BZPbW2mP9_ZEZpt6uk2CeYkGKrd5-g9Yq691C6XkUz2VnRGca9ncZQ7vdyyptSVPXj57fgsQOrMn8D6orVHs/w148-h200/devil%20in%20the%20flesh-her.jpg" width="148" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Choose your desire with dueling posters for our starry-eyed leads.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL: Even with 186 acting credits, Presle's only other well-known title </span><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">outside of France </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">(not seen here) is BOULE DE SUIF/’45, an adaptation of the same Guy de Maupassant story John Ford used in STAGECOACH/’39.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">CONTEST/SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Post-WWII, every country with a film industry seemed to find their own angst-ridden new generation (often tragic) star. James Dean over here, in Poland Zbigniew Cybulski, but Gérard Philipe was first out of the starting gate. Did the U.K. have one? Surely it can’t be Dirk Bogarde! Best suggestion wins a MAKSQUIBS Write-Up of their choosing.</span></p><p></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-4399435178773708552024-02-29T16:40:00.002-05:002024-02-29T16:58:52.463-05:00SEVEN DAYS IN MAY (1964)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3e8jK9QtYvPGZLWR3Ge9axptm6UIxe5UiFE15MdmUZb8g_3R9qIyE3OAkfbQB-Ps9JaaU79AG9T60NeOcf5_h0DWEQl3qBnRfkTBsDNYyCceA7HXxwZa1_GAmXSbZOXor1wU_MMOxc_n-zBCEpxeO60uI4EHxHLgB5ey_T0odluMdFEHxMuC8-QJzazy/s703/seven%20days%20in%20may.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="700" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3e8jK9QtYvPGZLWR3Ge9axptm6UIxe5UiFE15MdmUZb8g_3R9qIyE3OAkfbQB-Ps9JaaU79AG9T60NeOcf5_h0DWEQl3qBnRfkTBsDNYyCceA7HXxwZa1_GAmXSbZOXor1wU_MMOxc_n-zBCEpxeO60uI4EHxHLgB5ey_T0odluMdFEHxMuC8-QJzazy/w399-h400/seven%20days%20in%20may.png" width="399" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">On the big screen, 1964 was the year of political paranoia & nuclear endgame. Hipsters got scary/comic brilliance in Stanley Kubrick’s DR. STRANGELOVE; squares had Sidney Lumet’s earnest & dutiful FAIL-SAFE. The difference in tone matched by two other Presidential thrillers of the period: John Frankenheimer’s THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE/’62 and John Frankenheimer’s SEVEN DAYS IN MAY, the first outlandish & subversive, the second, with scripter Rod Serling’s ‘well-made play’ vibe, dropping obvious clues to underline every story beat. But if CANDIDATE is more daring, sophisticated, wacky & original, SEVEN, unlike the self-important FAIL-SAFE, is an impressive achievement in its own straightforward way, and a real nail-biter. Coup-hungry General Burt Lancaster and suspicious Col. Kirk Douglas are both at their best, helped by having an equal third-party, President Fredric March, between them. It turns their competitive streak away from them as stars, and toward character. But everyone’s dandy in this one; and there’s extra fun substituting current politicos in most of the roles. Imagining modern candidates being so articulate even gives the speechifying final showdown between Lancaster & March an extra frightening kick.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY/LINK: *At times, it really <u>is</u> a ‘well-made’ play, specifically, Gore Vidal’s 1960 B’way smash THE BEST MAN which it steals a significant plot point from. BEST MAN also a 1964 movie, and with FAIL-SAFE’s Henry Fonda in it. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-best-man-1964.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-best-man-1964.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Look for producer John Houseman making his acting debut at 62.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-33059409998418320252024-02-28T15:24:00.001-05:002024-02-28T16:20:30.611-05:00CHILDREN OF THE SEA / KAIJÛ NO KODOMO (2019)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v-HkkfEaaM_XCe0OyYQ6DeVOFY2nlNSFXguzS7rj5qz3r7sk3ZRnegsRZburtP90N9SKPf_CFQWEpmuUlDwQAJ1Jz3_AXPxrSK6FI7SadrPc2JawJ51wnTs3i-qhknT6nrkcWzGRlSO_W0BHJKSSHaEwaFicdS1Nx43p0EJAA2QLabENGlYG5uLiYMIQ/s818/children%20of%20the%20sea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="818" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v-HkkfEaaM_XCe0OyYQ6DeVOFY2nlNSFXguzS7rj5qz3r7sk3ZRnegsRZburtP90N9SKPf_CFQWEpmuUlDwQAJ1Jz3_AXPxrSK6FI7SadrPc2JawJ51wnTs3i-qhknT6nrkcWzGRlSO_W0BHJKSSHaEwaFicdS1Nx43p0EJAA2QLabENGlYG5uLiYMIQ/w400-h308/children%20of%20the%20sea.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Spectacular <i>manga</i>-based <i>anime</i> proved a tough sell for G-KIDS Stateside with little in the way of a traditional storyline. But beyond the film’s standard summer-break/coming-of-age teen tribulations (young girl with separated parents gets tossed off the summer-league soccer team for acting out), something quite different & fascinating, laid out in stunning animation from Ayumu Watanabe & Beyond C. Studios in a style quite different from Studio Ghibli & other Japanese firms. Philosophical in ideas, more abstract in extended set pieces, we watch as Ruka, the just banned summer-league soccer player, visits the local aquatic museum where her father works. Behind the tank, she stumbles upon a unique sea creature few have seen, a teenage boy (Umi) who literally swims with the fishes. So too his older brother Sora, who Ruka will meet later and who appears to be undergoing some sort of metamorphosis. Not the only seismic shift in the film: sea, sky and earth are also experiencing changes after a meteor strike. Is Ruka falling in love with one of these brothers, or perhaps changing into some sort of ‘Gaia’ prophet, if that’s what they are. No doubt this all parsed out more clearly in the <i>manga</i> series of books, but sometimes lack of specificity, not quite knowing what’s going on, helps rather than hurts if you can ZEN-up and go with the flow of illustrious illustrations. (In the ‘70s this would have been considered an essential Head Trip experience.) Here and there, the plot, such as it is, goes sappy and well-meaning, but wisely holds back from nailing down concepts too literally with exposition & explanation. The story not even bothering to wind things up by having Ruka rejoin her teammates for an uplifting ending. Hurrah! (Though wait thru the end credits to get a bit more story.) Best to put any expectations to the side, and prepare yourself for a climax that draws on 2001's ‘Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite’ . . . and gets away with it.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL: Ayumu Watanabe’s other credits mostly in tv series, but a follow-up feature, FORTUNE FAVORS LADY NIKUKO/’21 (not seen here), looks to be more traditional. (And brought in about a fifth the gross.)</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-16618483824381479672024-02-27T15:36:00.004-05:002024-02-27T16:28:29.324-05:00PAN SI DONG / THE CAVE OF THE SILKEN WEB (1927)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHb7Sk3h61cvzBQM2L3o_dgAe6PXl72LEEgM0JUvzoy8SRtCWTMUFeW1bpplBkAe2U9LvF95TuaXgvcLcP8Ce6rnk5MNthEUNcGLJHLnJdxbFvQfAJgucEy4Gzm_n-XoN6Qrt5T4OR2DYoPomvRmZj56DJFlTq3VY0YIKMXSjBNAA_Qq1ZD_s6pbOjwaR/s345/cave%20of%20the%20silken%20web.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="230" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHb7Sk3h61cvzBQM2L3o_dgAe6PXl72LEEgM0JUvzoy8SRtCWTMUFeW1bpplBkAe2U9LvF95TuaXgvcLcP8Ce6rnk5MNthEUNcGLJHLnJdxbFvQfAJgucEy4Gzm_n-XoN6Qrt5T4OR2DYoPomvRmZj56DJFlTq3VY0YIKMXSjBNAA_Qq1ZD_s6pbOjwaR/w266-h400/cave%20of%20the%20silken%20web.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">A challenging but rewarding watch, this once lost Chinese silent survives thru a print found (and restored) in Norway. Missing the first two reels, it now runs about an hour and there’s a small amount of nitrate damage to get thru. (Mostly at the start.) And what a familiar story it tells! Not only because Cheng'en Wu’s 16th century multi-part JOURNEY TO THE WEST saga has served dozens of adaptations* (this probably the first), but for its echoes to . . . well, here’s a brief. Our lead, on a journey thru unknown territory to fetch a precious item, is kidnapped and taken to a cave castle, yet hopes to be rescued by anthropomorphic pals Monkey, Pig & Shark who must scale a craggy mountain to gain entry. And it’s not only THE WIZARD OF OZ that comes to mind. Here, our ‘Dorothy’ is a monk on a journey to find precious manuscripts in some heavenly territory, and her pal protectors are on the clock. (Monkey, <i>primus inter pares</i> like The Scarecrow, is also a shape-shifter, something which comes in handy against the beautiful ‘She-Devil’ kidnappers who plan a forced marriage and human flesh appetizers instead of a monk’s proper vegetarian diet. Worse, those lady devils are really spider people. Yikes! The transformation no more than a puff of smoke and a ‘matched’ edit, but the spider costume is impressively creepy. The production is surprisingly elaborate, if not up to international late-silent standards, the filmmaking technique more late ’teens than late ‘20s (see Maurice Tourneur’s THE BLUE BIRD/’19), with acting that’s very UFA German Expressionism when not British ‘Panto.’ (You even get racial stereotypes with dark complexioned cave servants.) It all climaxes at the wedding with mad dances out of a ‘rave’ and a <b><span style="color: red;">RED</span></b> tinted fiery conflagration for a finale.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">LINK: Watch for free here: <a href="https://archive.org/details/pan-si-dong-cave-of-the-silken-web" target="_blank">https://archive.org/details/pan-si-dong-cave-of-the-silken-web</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL: *Not seen here, but first on the list when you type CAVE OF THE SILKEN WEB on a search engine (or IMDb) is a version from 1967. No doubt, it would clear things up, but sacrifice some of the silent film’s enticing perplexity.</span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-91210286970300232152024-02-26T15:55:00.000-05:002024-02-26T15:55:29.802-05:00DEVIL IN A BLUE DRESS (1995)<p><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDa5vmrXP5XMwgoKBUsXoOCdlttSt_Ke_dUxZHwdhUdUhA-Ace1sqsDweHc3Z9mzgyznuGP5Shp5XqlufZtE2iVV7wigbkFeODlIK__ohktRi-eWapvoxHyT-LWnPnZTQ8OqX731bFloWiEQVfg-PdUw_DbaduJxK1J97Vje8dbDcnLAsjGA7KTt3X6Dh/s1229/devil%20in%20a%20blue%20dress.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="863" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDa5vmrXP5XMwgoKBUsXoOCdlttSt_Ke_dUxZHwdhUdUhA-Ace1sqsDweHc3Z9mzgyznuGP5Shp5XqlufZtE2iVV7wigbkFeODlIK__ohktRi-eWapvoxHyT-LWnPnZTQ8OqX731bFloWiEQVfg-PdUw_DbaduJxK1J97Vje8dbDcnLAsjGA7KTt3X6Dh/w281-h400/devil%20in%20a%20blue%20dress.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Hard to see why this accomplished adaptation of Walter Mosley’s first Easy Rawlins detective novel flopped.* (A streaming series of the 15 titles in development.) True, it’s CHINATOWN derivative (how not, given the L.A. post-WWII period setting?); Tom Sizemore’s Joe Pesci villainous copycat act brings little new (same for Maury Chaykin’s John Huston shtick); writer/director Carl Franklin* & cinematographer Tak Fujimoto lay on over-ripe period texture to beat the band (props look like ‘props,’ the atmosphere lacquered, <u>exteriors</u> like showroom models. But Franklin, and his generally good cast, get too much right to miss out on, capturing the urban experience of an ambitious, home-owning Black vet trying to stay out of harms way and keep the cash flowing with pick-up work that lands him on the edge of the law, the casual indignities of simply being Black in America ‘tell’ in ways rarely caught on film. Perhaps that’s because its subtext is seen thru the lens of strict<span> </span><i>film noir</i><span> </span><span>detective tropes. Incriminating photographs, interracial love affair, blackmail, kidnapping, hideouts, friendship loyal & disloyal; all in a twisty political story about a mayoral race you can largely follow. Denzel Washington makes one sexy Rawlins; they could have auctioned that ribbed-‘T’ to make up any box-office shortfall. (see poster) And if Jennifer Beals’ mystery gal is no Faye Dunaway (Mosley probably made a mistake giving her too close a variation of Dunaway’s ‘My sister, My daughter’ routine), Don Cheadle’s dangerous psychopathic BFF more than makes up for it. (Why not a streaming series on this guy?)</span></span></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">DOUBLE-BILL/LINK: *Lots of violent detective work for director Franklin before & after, on tv & film. ONE FALSE MOVE/’92 a particularly tasty example. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/03/one-false-move-1992.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/03/one-false-move-1992.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-13239184685865669652024-02-25T16:55:00.000-05:002024-02-25T16:55:43.844-05:00THE GORGEOUS HUSSY (1936)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDLkolyBmU09NPnotoiYgiq20mt5h5rpLUVQiyqDzo9mU9WyvcyTFF4TMP_m8meZ9DyTL_dZIEdGbS5VB0XV6ADN6St6CcnotMn-f8vH_38og-ADHsKI69yBy4tvDO9MEOhFPwDRXUKPeJZUKmHxgOv0zqmRKzhIeG60oaP_5zz8WCh6kogVGzIrjFFRN/s269/gorgeous%20hussy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="269" data-original-width="188" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDLkolyBmU09NPnotoiYgiq20mt5h5rpLUVQiyqDzo9mU9WyvcyTFF4TMP_m8meZ9DyTL_dZIEdGbS5VB0XV6ADN6St6CcnotMn-f8vH_38og-ADHsKI69yBy4tvDO9MEOhFPwDRXUKPeJZUKmHxgOv0zqmRKzhIeG60oaP_5zz8WCh6kogVGzIrjFFRN/w280-h400/gorgeous%20hussy.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Everyone in-front & behind the camera/above & below the line is at their worst in this inert period historical, stiffer than the Petticoat that gave name to this Andrew Jackson political scandal.* Joan Crawford, never at ease in period pieces (or in flouncy clothes), is Peggy O’Neal Eaton, serial inamorata to Virginia Senator Melvyn Douglas, Navy hunk Robert Taylor, Man-about-town James Stewart, Cabinet Secretary Franchot Tone; as well as enjoying the personal protection of President Lionel Barrymore . . . er, Andrew Jackson. More sinned against than sinning (in this telling), her choice of romantic chaperones always blowing up in her face. In some ways, it’s Crawford’s PARNELL/’37, the Clark Gable mega-flop historical. Only this one somehow made money. All those stars*; and just as many in support. A pity, too, as whenever we leave the romance and head to the Capital, you can faintly make out the proto-Civil War story wasted here.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *And that includes producer Joseph L. Mankiewicz, hotly being wooed to take over from mortally ill production head Irving G. Thalberg, and ex-wooer of Crawford whose recent marriage to co-star Tone was already on the rocks.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK: *Taylor suddenly a major star after a loan-out to Universal for MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION/’35. Above-the-title second billing (and extra curly hair!) in spite of getting killed off at the end of act one, a mere 41" into the film. Even Janet Leigh lasts longer than that before her much discussed early demise in PSYCHO/’60. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2009/08/magnificent-obsession-1935.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2009/08/magnificent-obsession-1935.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">WATCH THIS, NOT THAT/LINK: Underrated contract director Clarence Brown lives down to his mediocre rep on this one. At least the film earned out; more than can be said for his next, CONQUEST/’37, a real money pit for Garbo & Charles Boyer. Yet, these two disappointments followed by one of his best (and least known) films, OF HUMAN HEARTS/’38. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2019/07/conquest-1937.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2019/07/conquest-1937.html</a> <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/01/of-human-hearts-1938.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/01/of-human-hearts-1938.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-16066180213073886742024-02-24T16:55:00.005-05:002024-02-24T17:39:21.593-05:00EDMOND / CYRANO, MY LOVE (2018)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pPJQlwIBGJaZKAHipIaWG-IZitUUb2Gi699kBozW4rXx-lq7l4qAJW6YQ6yVfh2vnLOThhigmH2s9exUimFyn5G01-yEVPBSEmzGWZO5va1VYt7Ysma63BZAVJJOxgewmsruLHG4Z8Gy6_nUj_P43-vN42HJN5yq5p1oj6QqMhK6IlycTKpfYRlFJXk/s1023/edmond.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1023" data-original-width="751" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pPJQlwIBGJaZKAHipIaWG-IZitUUb2Gi699kBozW4rXx-lq7l4qAJW6YQ6yVfh2vnLOThhigmH2s9exUimFyn5G01-yEVPBSEmzGWZO5va1VYt7Ysma63BZAVJJOxgewmsruLHG4Z8Gy6_nUj_P43-vN42HJN5yq5p1oj6QqMhK6IlycTKpfYRlFJXk/w294-h400/edmond.jpg" width="294" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">That’s Edmond, as in Edmond Rostand, turn-of-the-last century French-verse playwright, but don’t blame him for that ridiculous export title. Author of CYRANO DE BERGERAC, by common consensus the greatest second-rate play in the canon. So maybe there’s justice in a third-rate bio-pic, alas, not the greatest. Instead, a rollicking embarrassment of clichés as Rostand & putative star Benoît-Constant Coquelin seek to create a hit play. Writer/director Alexis Michalik has no shame inventing whimsical backstage shenanigans on the order of those old bio-pics where real life events ‘inspire’ an author/painter/composer/architect to immortality. You know, Strauss hears a hunting horn, takes out a notebook and voila! . . . The Blue Danube is born. The film has some fun with CGI cityscapes, creating a pop-up picture-book look instead of trying to convince. and there’s a clever bit for rival playwright Georges Feydeau that plays out like one of his farces. Plus, theatrical tropes found in just about every backstager kick in by the third act. You really care if the damn thing gets up & running. Or would if Michalik hadn't just ‘cured’ a shy actor with a confidence-building dressing room blow-job. A general rule of thumb on backstage bio-pics is that the <u>only</u> factual moment in the whole thing is sure to be the most unbelievable one. Here, best guess is papering a skimpy opening night crowd with drunks & hookers, but I wouldn’t swear to it.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK: Considering its many adaptations, CYRANO has been as unlucky on screen as it’s been lucky on stage. For a good English verse translation, Anthony Burgess; his play not his musical, on B’way with Derek Jacobi. Best known film adaptations all have the stink of an officially sanctioned ‘quality project’: 1950 with José Ferrer (verseless), 1990 with Gérard Depardieu (with verse), 2021 with Peter Dinklage (the verse). Steve Martin’s modern take, ROXANNE/’87, charmed when it came out, but I wouldn’t risk a second viewing. A brief scene made in 1900, with pre-recorded synch-sound via acoustic wax cylinder, from Benoît-Constant Coquelin (Olivier Gourmet plays him here) is merely a curiosity. (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BC4xgu40da8" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BC4xgu40da8</a>). But a 1923 silent, directed by Augusto Genina and starring Pierre Magnier is the only film to get anywhere near the effortlessly overwhelming effect found in nearly any stage production.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY/LINK: *Michalik claims inspiration from SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE/98 (it shows, it shows). If only he’d gone with THE BAND WAGON/’53 or FRENCH CANCAN/’55. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-band-wagon-1953.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-band-wagon-1953.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">WATCH THIS, NOT THAT/LINK: To see how these things can be done without risking the cutes: CHOCOLAT/’16. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2023/02/chocolat-2016.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2023/02/chocolat-2016.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4597931128268287435.post-17830758543437684022024-02-23T16:23:00.000-05:002024-02-23T16:23:31.925-05:00OUTRAGE (1950)<p><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lbipUw2hQ0wlJmQ2nbGijlTUXhcipFNJUt4qDv5l8PhXHGQNPkkbA9uBBXIW91cVvyYi2gsjldXbKdfmaIgfEHwNMepPLCCzCQcVuXmnxv0vTSOlnWlkST006Z9RQK_Ld7tH3XZQ0u-PdO4TXQ_fbxtHNo6OJHPhmCI8QWZRo3mt-sVLiFhVmuMre9hO/s369/outrage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="369" data-original-width="300" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lbipUw2hQ0wlJmQ2nbGijlTUXhcipFNJUt4qDv5l8PhXHGQNPkkbA9uBBXIW91cVvyYi2gsjldXbKdfmaIgfEHwNMepPLCCzCQcVuXmnxv0vTSOlnWlkST006Z9RQK_Ld7tH3XZQ0u-PdO4TXQ_fbxtHNo6OJHPhmCI8QWZRo3mt-sVLiFhVmuMre9hO/w325-h400/outrage.jpg" width="325" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">Fourth of the six independent features Ida Lupino directed, co-wrote & just once starred in as part of The Filmmakers, all with producer/writer Collier Young, her husband whom she divorced halfway thru the series. Possibly the best, it’s certainly toughest of the social issue topics they covered; rape and its psychological aftermath.* And while producer Stanley Kramer got more press hanging his indie shingle on social issues, he tilted toward the noble where Lupino was hard-nosed & no-nonsense. As usual, Lupino (pretty much the only game in town when it came to female directors) tends toward blunt, and is hardly blessed with filmdom’s best casts (here Mala Powers’ sophomore outing as the victim has you imagining Lupino taking over the role). But as director, Lupino packs a lot into every shot as this young woman in a small town where everyone knows your business is attacked, tries to act as if everything’s fine, then abruptly breaks her engagement and without a word runs off to . . . where? Headed from the Midwest to L.A. (SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST?) she finds a welcome at a stopover in California orange territory, its migrant no-questions-asked workforce and orchard job openings just the ticket to a fresh start, even a fella. But when a social event reignites the demons she was running away from, Powers erupts with violence and heads to the hills. This second dash also ignites something in Lupino, who, with help from cinematographer Archie Stout, turns out the best set piece in her entire output. A rapturous, lyrical terror, caught by Stout in rich fluid textures, more bright poetic hysteria than dark <i>noir</i>, in a manner that recalls Frank Borzage or even F.W. Murnau. There’s a tricky renunciation at the end, and some moral/legalistic speechifying, but the film easily rides them out. Strong work by Lupino, who soon moved to tv directing after her remarkable independent run.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY/LINK: Powers must have felt comfortable next to co-star Tod Andrews since he looks (and acts) like a stand-in for her debut co-star Farley Granger in EDGE OF DOOM/’50. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/06/edge-of-doom-1950.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/06/edge-of-doom-1950.html</a></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 85%;">ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK: *The critical & commercial success of JOHNNY BELINDA/’48 helped sell the tough subject matter to distributor R.K.O. Note that you still couldn’t say ‘rape’ or even ‘sexual assault’ if you wanted to get a wide theatrical release; ‘criminal assault’ had to do. <a href="https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2008/05/johnny-belinda-1948.html" target="_blank">https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2008/05/johnny-belinda-1948.html</a></span></p><p></p>MAKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12311083897392733104noreply@blogger.com0