THIS REBEL BREED (1960)

Descriptions of this zero-budget exploitation indie might as well be promising THE BLACKBOARD JUNGLE meets 21 JUMP STREET (the earnest  ‘87 series, not the winking 2012 film).  Drug-fueled, racially-charged High School on the edge of violent gang-led implosion admits a pair of undercover cops posing as (very remedial) students to investigate the problems.  And damned if this description ain’t accurate.  At last, truth in movie advertising!  But directors Richard L. Bare & William Rowland so incompetent, the product so dreary, so starved of invention, there’s hardly a bit of fun to be had.  Worse, in trying to squeeze out an extra dribble of cash (from where? - Drive-In triple-bill rentals?), they tacked on a few make-out sequences which pop up at random moments for half-minute orgasmic rug rolls with skimpily-clad sexpots & horny boyfriends not in the rest of the film.*  Even a belly dancer as Special Guest Boob.  Rita Moreno is in here for the big dramatics as a Hispanic with a taste for White boys.  One knocks her up before getting knocked off.  (And why not?  When Moreno knocked off work she presumably was nailing her audition for WEST SIDE STORY/’61.)  BTW,  Moreno already 29, and all the other speaking parts cast with ‘teenagers’ also nearing 30 who’d soon be seen on tv; like Mark Damon in swarthy Mexicali make-up; Al Freeman Jr. there to give racial peace a chance; Richard Rust trying to hook the whole school (and selected kid brothers) on ‘Mary Jane.’  This ought to be a hoot.  Instead, it’s a pass.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *The re-release with softer-than-soft-core trimmings retitled THE BLACK REBELS.  Pretty insulting; especially as the Black gang gets less footage than Whites or Hispanics.

SKYLARK (1941)

Even in the ‘20s. ‘30s, and ‘40s, when B’way’s footprint on mass culture was at its height, reigning stage divinities rarely made the movie version of their latest smash.*  Take Gertrude Lawrence, the hard-to-photograph stage star of this Samuel Raphealson play.  Here, she’s been replaced by Claudette Colbert as an advertising man’s wife who succumbs to ‘the Five Year Itch’ when husband Ray Milland puts business first once-too-often and a flirtatious Brian Aherne pitches woo.  Colbert proves one of the best substitutes in locating the elusive Lawrence charm, poise & presence.*   (Previously, Colleen Moore, Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford & Ginger Rogers took turns; later Deborah Kerr.)  Raphaelson’s rueful, but rather sour play is perilously ‘opened up’ by ‘Hollywood Ten’ scripter Allan Scott.  (One of the few on the Communist Blacklist who actually tucked a bit of Leftist ideology into a film.  Listen up in a subway sequence where bickering husband Milland & wife Colbert hear out various riders’ comments, including a proletariat type behind his newspaper.  It’s Scott’s best addtion to the play.)  Elsewhere, he’s content to dumb things down with physical shtick and a kitchen cooking fiasco for Colbert.*  Director Mark Sandrich shows a limber touch when he can (see prologue), but elsewise has to deal with the arguments on work, life and compatibility reduced to a level that makes Colbert’s final choice even more unsatisfying than I think Raphealson wanted it to be.  Still, if not particularly funny, pretty interesting as a period piece on marriage & mores if you read between the lines.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  *Katharine Hepburn, an apparent exception to the substitution rule on her ‘comeback’ role in THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, only got the film because she controlled the show rights.  *BTW note Kate also played the kitchen fiasco scene from this film for her PHILLY follow-up in WOMAN OF THE YEAR/’42.

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:  To see Colbert really run with the idea of fixing a stale marriage with a flirtation, Preston Sturges to the rescue in next year’s THE PALM BEACH STORY/’42.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-palm-beach-story-1942.html

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  STAR/’68, the Julie Andrews/Robert Wise bio-pic on Lawrence famously missed capturing the aura that saw Noel Coward, Richard Rodgers, Cole Porter, George Gershwin and Kurt Weill all write SongBook Standards for a woman unable to stay on key.

THE INNER CIRCLE (1991)

Pushing 90 and still active, few filmmakers of Andrei Konchalovsky’s stature have a C.V. as uneven as this Russian exile.  Showing good form in pulpy Stateside action/suspense like RUNAWAY TRAIN/’85, brilliantly sharp as recently as 2020 in his bureaucratic ‘Party Line’ takedown DEAR COMRADES!* (https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2021/03/dear-comrades-dorogie-tovarishchi-2020.html), then serving up five embarrassments for each winner.  But he’s rarely been so evenly divided between his best & worst instincts within a single film as in this fascinating, fact-based life of Ivan Sanshin, personal projectionist to movie fan (and deadly critic) Comrade Josef Stalin.  Tom Hulce does a great job as the star-struck projectionist (watch him load film without looking) who can’t believe his luck, or notice how his good fortune is ruining his life with fragile wife Lolita Davidovich.  He becomes entangled with Stalin’s Inner Circle; she becomes emotionally entangled with the child of arrested neighbors.  Konchalovsky oversells everything in typical Russian fashion (the heartier the acting the better), whether scooping out caviar or baring your soul.  But while Hulce has the acting chops to cope with extremes, Davidovich is all at sea, unable to regulate.  Her tragedy seems less preordained fate than poor life choices.  And Konchalovsky never noticing the wheels are coming off his conception.  Still, fine scene setting (Moscow 1939 - 1953) and great supporting players almost get the project back on track.  Coarse & powerful/banal & thought-provoking; it’s the Konchalovsky dilemma.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  *Konchalovsky was at his very best in early collaborations with Andrei Tarkovsky on two stunning masterpieces, IVAN’S CHILDHOOD/’62 and ANDREI RUBLEV/’66.  A stabilizing influence who kept Tarkovsky grounded in narrative soil.  (And there are rumors of a third film: planned, shot, never released.  MosFilm!, please check your archive!)

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:   Armando Iannucci’s mordant/alarming THE DEATH OF STALIN/’17.   https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2018/07/the-death-of-stalin-2017.html

THUNDERBIRDS (1965 - ‘66)

Irresistible.  Of the fantasy/adventure puppet shows created by Sylvia & Gerry Anderson in the mid-‘60s for British tv (filmed in SuperMarionation!; still syndicated ‘round the globe), this 32 episode series about a top-secret/family-run/last-resort rescue outfit is the best-remembered.  Not that it's so superior to similar Anderson shows of the ‘60s.  It’s more that where the others made do with half-hour time slots, THUNDERBIRDS got a full-hour.  Subtracting commercials and credits means a bit over 20" vs. a bit over 40"; the latter proving a perfect length for set-up, characterizations, unfolding disaster; late plot twist and dangerous mission hitch before saving  things from catastrophe in the nick of time!  Set a century in the future (2065) our heroes a family of five grown-up boys, The Tracys, commanded by their widowed dad, and living on a secret island with Grandma and a few non-family assistants (technical genius 'Brains' like a nerdy sixth sibling) while underground silos store fabulous jets & space rocket rescue vehicles.  Stories mostly the same: futuristic technology goes haywire and the family is contacted to save the day.  (A ‘clip’ show ends season one and a Christmas Special ends the series.)  What makes it so charming & fun is watching them solve all the technical tricks in scale within the limitations of marionette puppetry.*  (Occasional cheats come via close-ups of real hands and real scenery.)  Spot the modest improvements in detail work: immovable mouths loosen up; eyes start to blink, hair is restyled, but keeping extravagant eyebrows on all the villains.  A ‘Cool Britain’ vibe lasts for the first ten episodes (very SECRET AGENT MAN; THE AVENGERS) with Barry Gray’s pulse-pounding score (bongos to the fore, then refraining till the penultimate episode).  And note how Dad Tracy favors eldest son Scott (the only one with dimples!); and constant changes to London agent Lady Penelope’s coifs and couture.  Plus sexual tension on the isle; so much testosterone and only one eligible gal.  (Son Virgil Tracy mentions a wife and kids, but we never see them.)  But if there’s no sex, we do get plenty of suggestive space docking and surface drilling.  Yikes!  That rubber cement glue used for all those scale-model space ships and hovering jet planes must have lingered in the air on set.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  The Tracys always end ship to ship or ship to base messages saying ‘F.A.B.’  Apparently, it’s no anagram, simply a phrase like A. O. K. or Roger & Out acknowledging reception.  F.A.B.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *One thing Andersons & crew can do little about is getting water and fire to match scale.  A problem only solved (if that’s the word) once CGI came on the movie scene.

HIGHEST 2 LOWEST (2025)

Spike Lee has made better films (a few) and worse (quite a few), but never one more unnecessary.  A glossy, but empty remake of Akira Kurosawa’s stunning realization of Ed McBain’s KING’S RANSOM, reconfigured as a suspense-filled experiment in film structure for HIGH AND LOW/’62.  The basic set up remains: cash-strapped mogul holding the line on quality & integrity in his product (Lee swaps out shoes for music) has the rug pulled out from him in the middle of a risky business gamble when his son is kidnapped.  Suddenly his financial maneuvers all meaningless.  Dropping company deal-making for family business, he bites the bullet on bail bargaining to save his son only to discover the kidnappers took the wrong kid; they grabbed the chauffeur’s boy.  Yikes!  Will he still go thru with the payout?  It’s a pulpy plot (hey, Ed McBain/87th PRECINCT - see post directly below!), but what Kurosawa did with it was genre genius.  A long still-life Act One, set entirely inside the family’s apartment.  Short Act Two leaping into movement on the street/in the subway for the cash drop-off.  Act Three a brief presto of a chase, then a quick cadenza of a coda.  (Kurosawa not a Western classical music buff for nothing.)  Lee sticking to usual hostage genre tropes & tripe (second & third act all nonsense - that ultra-coordinated  bail drop!), lets his aging star, Denzel Washington, take the glory where Kurosawa all but pushes Toshiro Mifune out of the pic.  Mifune 42 at the time; Washington older and thicker than you remember, is 71.  Worse, he works too hard to show he’s still got what it takes when he ought to be paring back.  (Call it Kirk Douglas syndrome.)  Over-produced/under-characterized, with a weirdly ineffective ‘cool jazz’ score by Howard Drossin and would-be chart-busting hits to show Washington’s still got ‘the best ears in the biz.’  Where’s Quincy Jones when Spike needs him?

WATCH THIS, NOT THAT/LINK:  Go with the obvious choice, HIGH AND LOW.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2012/07/tengoku-to-jigoku-high-and-low-1962.html

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  Look sharp when Washington & chauffeur Jeffrey Wright investigate a lead at a crummy apartment building.  The apartment number?  A-24.  Get it?  Lame-O, Spike.

COP HATER (1958)

First try filming 87th PRECINCT, the popular paperback police procedurals by Ed McBain, is both pulpy and priceless.  Pulpy because this cheaply made/down & dirty NYC indie looks a good half-step below episodic tv of the time (unintentionally perfect for what hack director William Berke is going for); priceless because it preserves bits of NYC back-alley ‘nabs’ from back in the day.  Even rarer, real interiors: ‘dive bars,’ tenement halls & kitchens, plus aging institutional buildings filmed check-by-jowl with whatever faceless underdressed sets they could afford.  And doubly priceless as it also preserves a rising new style of urban Method Acting (the post-Elia Kazan model) that John Cassavetes codified starting with FACES/’64.  The big difference that whereas Cassavetes & Co. never seemed to have met a person who wasn’t a struggling Method Actor, this team act as if they’ve stayed in touch with paid-by-the-piece laborers.  The lack of self-referential mannerism, even when the acting’s awkward, keeps them relatable and believable.  With debuts (or nearly so) for Jerry Orbach, Vincent Gardenia, a lithe/sexy Robert Loggia, et al.*  Story and execution nothing special, but it’ll do as a series of cops from the 87th get randomly shot.  Some psycho?  A gang of trouble-making toughs who failed the audition for the original cast of WEST SIDE STORY?  A gun humper hot for his latest 45 caliber?  Well, it works for the 1'15" running time; and the books would go on to be a tv series, tv movies and various international iterations, while McBain would also go on.  You know him better under his real name, Evan Hunter.  The one he used writing THE BIRDS/’63 for Alfred Hitchcock.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *Check out Glenn Cannon, co-starring with Orbach at the time in THE THREE-PENNY OPERA at the Theater de Lys, the longrun Brecht/Weill/Blitzstein revival that established Off-Broadway as a commercial enterprise.  Cannon’s great as a punk kid being interviewed by a slick newspaper reporter.  The whole thing looking like a Chelsea pick-up.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  Loggia’s fiancée is written as ‘deaf and dumb,’ actress Ellen Parker who plays her is neither.  Still, kudos (to novelist McBain?) for making her condition largely incidental, not the focus of the story.  Very unusual at the time.

THE LAST SUNSET (1961)

After officially emerging from the ‘50s Hollywood Blacklist of Card-Carrying-Communists (and those who may simply have rubbed shoulders with one) in 1960 with the one-two-punch of SPARTACUS and EXODUS, longtime top-tier screenwriter Dalton Trumbo* solidified his renewed standing with this solid Western for Rock Hudson and Kirk Douglas who also produced.  Based on a novel by Howard Rigsby*, it’s a neat piece of plotting that can’t nail the ending, but still worthy under Robert Aldrich's firm control; stately, but flaring up whenever Joseph Cotten’s ex-Confederate officer hits the bottle and in some imaginative action under clouds of dust, courtesy of cinematographer Ernest Laszlo.  The main story has Sheriff Rock Hudson following Kirk Douglas into Mexico with a warrant for his arrest on a murder charge.  Douglas, not only escaping the law, but trying to rekindle an old relationship with Cotten’s wife Dorothy Malone, stuck on their cattle ranch with pretty young daughter Carol Lynley.  Hudson & Douglas make unlikely hires to get the herd back to the States for sale . . . and Douglas to trial.  Trumbo can’t quite finesse this major plot point, but, hey, there’s a movie to be made.  Hudson near his best here, much helped by having to play with an actor as naturally theatrical as Douglas, the ball coming back harder than he throws it.  (Benefits also work in the opposite direction.)  And the cattle drive sees shifting allegiances as Malone leans in to Rock while daughter Lynley falls for Douglas.  With a good twist up ahead to drive the finale after having survived rough terrain, a trio of mutinous cow hands (Jack Elam, Neville Brand, James Westmoreland) and a Capitalist tribe of Indians.  Trumbo no doubt delighted by these smart Native traders.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  Check out the three-inch heels on Kirk’s boots.  There’s a clear shot near the end on a wharf.  Kirk usually touchy on the subject even allows 6'4" Rock to describe him as a short guy.

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:   *TRUMBO/'15.   https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2016/07/trumbo-2015.html

CONTEST:  *Either Rigsby or Trumbo must have had Hemingway’s THE SUN ALSO RISES in mind when they were figuring out two major plot points.  Figure out the connection and put it in Comments to win a MAKSQUIBS Write-Up of a streamable film of your choosing.

O AGENTE SECRETO / THE SECRET AGENT (2025)

Extrapolating from the four films I’ve been able to see, Brazilian writer/director Kleber Mendonça Filho has been turning out well-made, enigmatic, politically-minded shorts, tv & features for two decades.*  (Not much distribution Stateside.)  Now, he's upped his game from solid to great.  This film awarded everywhere but the Oscars®.  (Four noms/zero wins: you can always count on Mr. O.)  The film a portrait of Brazil in 1977 (there’s also a 2025 epilogue) less focused on military rule and atrocities than the wide, often banal effects (deadly in their own way) of a corrupt government: venal cops threatening to ’plant’ evidence on shakedown targets; eagerly cooperating bureaucrats in State offices; highly organized Southern gangs using Quotidian Horrors and Mob Murder to control the obsequious North of the country.  Actor Wagner Moura (probably new to most viewers*) in protean form, is Marcelo/Ambrose, a man trying to leave the country, along with his young son after the mother’s death from cancer, finds he's being blocked by past politics.  Going North for possible escape, he travels under an assumed name and pays the expected bribes & fees to get his papers & passport in order, waiting it out in a house of similarly desperate people.  Filho handles the large cast. sweeping action & events with the dexterity of a Disney artist with a multiplane camera, everything clear (character & narrative) with lines of action indirectly indicated rather than being pointed out.  The elliptical style giving a timeless/universal quality to events.  With the sort of thrillingly choreographed suspense and compound street chases Francis Coppola was a master of when he still regularly made movies.  Filho’s film immensely satisfying on multiple levels.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK:  *Now 50, if looking about 35, Moura is suddenly a hot property with upcoming co-stars like Colin Farrell, Ralph Fiennes & Kristin Stewart.  You may already know his voice as he was ‘Wolf’ in the superb PUSS IN BOOTS sequel, THE LAST WISH/’22.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2023/01/puss-in-boots-last-wish-2022.html

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:  *Try Filho’s hauntingly enigmatic NEIGHBORING SOUNDS/’14, a film that blows up inside your head months after watching it.   https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2014/07/o-som-ao-reder-neighboring-sounds.html

THE JAZZ SINGER (1952)

No BlackFace in this remake of the 1927 Al Jolson original.  So, progress?*  Alas, not much else improved.  No doubt someone at Warner Bros. thought popular nightclub entertainer Danny Thomas could carry a film.  After this, Thomas never tried again.  Now best known for his charity hospital (daughter Marlo still fronting donations), Thomas was a pleasant rather than riveting presence, just the thing for tv.  (Even more successful as a producer.)  Monologist rather than jokester, his strength as a performer something the film fails to get across.  So, we’re left with the old story of a Jewish Cantor Father assuming his son will carry on the family tradition at Sinai Temple rather than go into showbiz.  Tempting songster Peggy Lee’s around to encourage his ambitions, but Danny backtracks when he doesn’t make a quick breakthru.  Not much director Michael Curtiz can do with this one; Thomas changing his direction with the wind, Peggy Lee disconnected from the main action (not a peep about religious differences, and backstage insider stuff completely outgunned by next year’s THE BANDWAGON/’53), while attempts to make the plot less melodramatic only thins out the atmosphere & texture, the two main things going for the 1927 original.  That and Jolson’s raw, almost disturbing, force.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  In a parallel Father/Son story, the 1927 original (considered Hollywood’s first Talkie) was directed by Alan  Crosland, father of this film’s editor, Alan Crosland Jr.

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:  *BlackFace is back, baby!  For all you masochists, BlackFace returned (less black than fleshly gray & clownish) when Jerry Lewis remade JAZZ SINGER for a 1959 live tv production ‘in Living Color.’  Real deal Yiddish theater star Molly Picon brings verisimilitude as Momma and Eduard Franz repeats from here as ‘Poppa.’   And if you think Jerry doesn’t take over shabbos services while still wearing traces of that clown-face makeup, you’ve got another think coming.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBe0qy5k8vk

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  Nothing we’d call ‘jazz’ found in any version of this story.  The term has narrowed over the decades; but who’d go to see THE SYNCOPATED ‘POP’ SINGER?   (A perfect title for the Neil Diamond/Laurence Olivier iteration of 1980.)  ALSO:  A real Jazz Singer story might be found in the loving relationship between American Songbook composer Harold Arlen and his father, longtime Cantor at Temple Adath Yeshurun in Syracuse, NY, who used to sneak his son’s tunes into services.  Imagine hearing bits of ‘Blues In The Night’ in the midst of his cantorial melismas.