EXPORTING RAYMOND (2010)

And the trailer looked so funny. Phil Rosenthal, one of the top creative guys on EVERYONE LOVES RAYMOND, flies to Moscow to help start up a Russian version of the popular domestic Sit-Com, rechristened EVERYONE LOVES KOSTYA. Struggling to retain the show’s tone of wry, observational humor, he’s met with wacky comic exaggeration, Soviet-era production facilities and non-starter ideas about designer duds for his cast. It’s hard to know who you’d rather strangle first, Rosenthal with his unchanging quizzical expression or the uncomprehending Russian tv pros he’s up against. A couple of sidebar looks at life & times away from the studio give a bit of relief, they might work as the ‘light’ feature on a Sunday Morning news show, but this painfully conventional documentary offers little enlightenment other than the notion that ‘bland’ loses little in translation.

DES HOMMES ET DES DIEUX / OF GODS AND MEN (2010)

Xavier Beauvois’s fact-inspired film of modern martyrdom, set in Algeria during a 1996 uprising of Islamic fundamentalists, calmly watches as seven members of a small Catholic monastery (and, later, a visitor from the local diocese) decide what actions (if any) they should take to protect themselves. Welcome members in the local community, and the only medical resource in the area, the men are fully aware of the encroaching danger, but are unwilling to adjust, neither accepting protection from the military nor able to deny treatment to the rebels when asked; they're A MONASTERY FOR ALL SEASONS. But, as with Robert Bolt’s version of Thomas More, something’s gone missing. For More, as portrayed in A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS/’66, it was the irony of embracing the ‘principled’ religious edicts of a politically-minded Pope. For DES HOMMES, it’s the idea that religious conviction & daily routine immunize against consequences. Is their (lack of) response noble & courageous or blind & vain? The film seems to have made up our mind for us. Handsomely put together and superbly acted (even when the seven monks make you think of Disney’s 7 Dwarfs), but without the abstracted stylization, pace & theatricality Fred Zinnemann was able to give the earlier film, it weighs you down when it wants to haunt you.

DOUBLE-BILL: Those with a taste for the monastic life (and a lot of patience) can soak up a year’s worth of solitude & quiet atmosphere with INTO GREAT SILENCE/’05.

LES FELINS / JOY HOUSE (1964)

French director René Clément’s reputation seemed to hover on and off the proscribed list of ‘Quality MovieMakers’ held in contempt by the ‘Cahiers du Cinéma’ crowd. And, in truth, even the titles that keep his name alive (FORBIDDEN GAMES/’52; PURPLE NOON/’60) don’t quite match the encomiums found on the packaging. So, it’s no surprise to find this lighter effort, a sort of shaggy-dog thriller, so eager to tap into creepy, crawly DIABOLIQUE/’55 territory, it fritters away its possibilities. Alain Delon, a stud on the lam, is fleeing some revenge seeking Stateside killers when he’s plucked out of a French homeless shelter by a couple of chic chicks (Jane Fonda & Lola Albright) to serve as their new chauffeur. If it sounds too good to be true, it is; a situation Delon soon scopes out when he investigates the many closed rooms in the cousins' over-decorated mansion between rival bouts of l’amour. Turns out there’s a fourth side to this budding triangle. Clément knows what he’s after, trying to cover plot holes with decor, but the fun leaks out with the logic. On the other hand, Fonda, long before she started exercising & became self-conscious about her acting, is something to see.

DOUBLE-BILL: Going all outlier here, THE BEGUILED/’71, Don Siegel’s unexpected Civil War morality tale traps Alpha-Male soldier boy Clint Eastwood in a horror house of love-starved women.

MAN ON THE FLYING TRAPEZE (1935)

Pricelessly, even painfully funny W. C. Fields comedy finds the great man living in a kind of domestic chamber–of-horrors with a shrewish second wife, a couple of appalling in-laws and a loyal, good-hearted daughter. Life is just one comic gem of frustration after another as Fields confronts tipsy burglars in his basement; collects four traffic tickets in six minutes; loses his job by taking his first afternoon off in 29 years; and generally lives the Life of Job . . . in a neat seven reels. Ionesco and Beckett had nothing on Fields when it comes to the absurdity of modern life . . . but could they juggle cigar boxes?* Everyone gets to be mean & hilarious in this one, with ripe theatrical turns played straight to the gallery. (Grady Sutton is a particular tower of asinine behavior.) Clyde Bruckman, more of a gag man (with Buster Keaton, Laurel & Hardy and Harold Lloyd on his C.V.) than a director, uses homely proscenium set-ups that tap into a theatrical energy, so there’s always some forward movement whatever the pace. Look for Fields’ long-time mistress, Carla Monti, doing quite nicely as his understanding secretary. It’s a real part, too, with a chance to shine on a few tongue-twisting lines explaining what really went on when Fields went AWOL.

DOUBLE-BILL: Field’s silent version of this one, RUNNING WILD/’27 (not seen here), has a so-so rep, but it’s director was the great comedy director, Gregory La Cava, of STAGE DOOR/’37 and MY MAN GODFREY/’36 fame. Apparently, it uses the same basic set-up but charts a very different narrative. No DVD, yet, but adventurous types might want to try the subfusc dub on YOUTUBE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVW_lhu3ltk

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *Considering that Fields juggled his way around the major theaters of the world, his films rarely caught him ‘in the act.’ But there’s a pretty complete record of his Cigar Box routine in THE OLD FASHIONED WAY/’34.

TROUBLE WITH THE CURVE (2012)

Few famous film quotes bat quite as high an inaccuracy percentage as Tom Hanks earns for ‘There’s no crying in baseball.’ It’s hard to think of another sport quite as weepy. And that goes double for movies about baseball. This one also managing the unlikely trick of pitching (that’s story pitching) BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY/’73 meets ON GOLDEN POND/’81. Clint Eastwood, in raspy-voice, curmudgeon mode, takes the Robert De Niro/Henry Fonda spot as an aging major league talent scout who’s losing his sight and needs to reconnect with his powerhouse daughter. That’d be Amy Adams, batting for Michael Moriarty/Jane Fonda in the line-up as the high-powered attorney who takes a break from her job to sort out her well-tended grudge against Pop, all the while helping him hold on to his job. Hmm, which makes Justin Timberlake . . . Katherine Hepburn? No, that’s not right. Well, anyway, they’re all down South to check on a promising hitting sensation, a nasty blowhard type who’s got a weak spot only Clint can spot. But who’ll believe him? Newbie megger Robert Lorenz gets a nice lazy rhythm going, but he can’t seem to keep away from adorable photo-ops: a bar fight, a midnight swim in a pond, diners with sassy waitresses, clog dancing . . . CLOG DANCING? The last reel kicks in with a whole laundry list of cheap dramatic payoffs that might have worked in a different, less laid-back sort of film. (Does the peanut boy really have to be the next Sandy Koufax? Geez.) Still, the company is pleasant enough, and Amy Adams a good deal more than that.

DOUBLE-BILL: To see Clint deliver in late curmudgeon mode, try GRAND TORINO/’08.  OR: For a baseball fix without tears, there’s always IT HAPPENS EVERY SPRING/’49.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2015/12/it-happens-every-spring-1949.html

THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE (1947)

When John Van Druten ‘opened up’ his trim ‘three-hander’ for the movies, he turned the biggest hit of his career into a very ordinary romantic-comedy, with little trace of the play’s purported enchantment. Eleanor Parker, in a failed bid at catching the mannerisms & charm Margaret Sullavan brought to the original stage production, plays a young actress just getting over a casual affair she took too seriously. Still licking her wounds, real love is the last thing she’s looking for. But it’s just what she finds when gal pal Eve Arden dumps a nice soldier boy in her lap when a better prospect unexpectedly turns up. Arden, normally the most reliable of players, gives a desperate sort of perf, lunging at quips she’d normally toss off to twice the effect. Blame megger Irving Rapper who has his cast plant both feet before delivering. The freshest thing in the film is Ronald Reagan, top-billed in a Triple A project, at last! It’s not his best work, but as a decent guy who’s comfortable in his skin (and even in the kitchen), he knows how to relax and still make his mark.

DOUBLE-BILL: Irving Rapper muffed the stage magic of two more classics in film adaptations of THE CORN IS GREEN/’45 and THE GLASS MENAGERIE/’50. On the other hand, he had much better luck turning Louis Verneuil’s flop ‘two-hander,’ OBSESSION, into the deliciously over-ripe film ‘three-hander,’ DECEPTION/’46.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Two tell-tale Production Code moments to look for. Watch for a quick cut of Reagan going back to his hotel when it’s obvious he really spent the night . . . and not on Parker’s daybed. No doubt, a sop to top censor Joseph Breen. And what’s the deal with Kent Smith’s producer? His part, the casual lover who dumps Parker, is only spoken of in the play, but note how holding to Production Code niceties make him seem either gay or, perhaps, an asexual chum, giving off a vibe Parker misreads. Intentional or no?

POPPY (1936)

A. Edward Sutherland first directed W. C. Fields in the silent feature IT’S THE OLD ARMY GAME/’26; remade in ‘34 as Norman C. McLeod’s far superior sound film, IT’S A GIFT/‘34. Here, the pattern is reversed, as Sutherland megs the inferior sound remake of Fields’ first silent feature, SALLY OF THE SAWDUST/’25, well handled by D. W. Griffith, a man not generally known for comedy. POPPY, staged in 1923, was Fields’ first big stage success outside of revue formats like the Ziegfeld Follies. With a lightly sentimental plot and a co-star from Hollywood (Madge Kennedy), it still had space to showcase Fields' specialty act and let him play an actual character. Griffith made any number of structural changes for his film version, mainly to highlight leading lady Carol Dempster. But he also clarified the backstory of a ‘wronged woman’ as well as her link to the Carny Con Man who, years later, hopes to use his informally adopted daughter to fleece some wealthy locals, passing her off as their long lost granddaughter. The gimmick is that she really is their long lost granddaughter. Griffith’s smartest move was also the simplest, moving it out of its period setting to bring in a livelier, modern pace. Sutherland’s film goes back to 1883, and lets everyone fall into Fields’ increasingly slow drawl. The film plays like an early ‘30s release from FOX, and never does get up on its feet. A possible explanation is that Fields was ill during the shoot (note all the lousy stunt doubling), but that hardly excuses the rest of the cast. While this obviously holds a singular trump card over the silent film just by offering up those dulcet Fieldsian tones, Griffith’s earlier version remains preferable in every other way, a real charmer.

WATCH THIS, NOT THAT: As noted above, SALLY OF THE SAWDUST even with its silly ride-to-the-rescue finale; or IT’S A GIFT for a blast of Fields in his absolute Paramount Studios prime.

THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY (2012)

You know something’s seriously off in this opening salvo of Peter Jackson’s Super-Sized tri-part prequel to LOtR when you get giddy merely at spotting Gollum, that evil little pixie, crawling out from behind a rock. After three long hauls thru LOtR, who’da thunk his annoying calls of ‘Precious’ would sound so welcoming? To be fair, the film actually finds its footing two sequences earlier, when some rocky Mountain Monsters come to life. (Jackson seems to have finally figured out how he might have managed KING KONG/’05 . . . and does it in a neat eight minutes.) Presumably, Jackson had mentally moved on after three LOtR pics, and tried pretty hard to get someone else on this. No wonder, the first two acts feel dutiful & lifeless, with guest appearances from old team members like Cate Blanchett & Christopher Lee coming across with all the vivacity of a Royal visit to a Children’s Hospital. Wave. Smile. Move On. Maybe, the big improvement of the last act can be seen as an indication of better things to come. Hopefully, with a couple of gags that aim higher than Kiddie Pantomime . . . and fewer uplifting music cues.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Hollywood ECON-101: Topic: Milk That Cow:

1. HOBBIT the Book - one-fifth as long as LORD OF THE RINGS the Book.

2. HOBBIT the Movie Trilogy - estimated running-time to exceed LOtR the Movie Trilogy.

SOUND OF MY VOICE (2011)

Newbie megger Zal Batmanglij & writing partner/actress Brit Marling got a distrib pick-up, but almost no commercial traction on this MumbleCore/Psychological Thriller about a pair of amateur video investigative journalists trying to crash a nascent mini-cult. The laughably transparent leader claims she’s from the future, but it’s hard to believe anyone would follow her to Dairy Queen for a free double-dipped cone let alone paradise. The film spends most of its time trying to tantalize us, vigorously applying the supernatural/metaphysical ‘maybe’ factor, all the way to a ‘gotcha’ denouement that feels more like narrative surrender than the gasp-worthy moment they were aiming at. Those who can keep their focus thru the flat uncadenced acting that passes for naturalism in these things (just imagine giving the cast a good slap every now & then) may get something out of noting how much the peer-pressure inside the cult resembles the group-think mentality at Film Fests that gives so much crap premature commercial/artistic buzz.

WATCH THIS, NOT THAT: The Gold Standard for ghostly paranormal tales remains Henry James THE TURN OF THE SCREW; disturbingly filmed as THE INNOCENTS/’61. But Jeff Nichols’ TAKE SHELTER/’11, while hardly a complete success, is a nearer companion piece, right down to its infuriating ‘gotcha’ twist-ending.