Thursday, July 21, 2022

  

Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films




ROM COMS, ANYONE? 


      Always ready for a laugh, now more than ever, I wonder if you, dear readers, are familiar with these somewhat overlooked and under-appreciated romantic comedies from the Golden Age.

 

     For years, I appreciated Ginger Rogers only for her dancing partnership with Fred Astaire.  But, at this point, I can see that she was a very engaging personality in non-musical roles as well. In a past post, I mentioned her playing opposite William Powell in a stylish mystery (Star of Midnight).  In Lucky Partners (1940), she is paired with Ronald Coleman in one of his rare comedy roles. In this story, Coleman is an eccentric artist, who is living a modest life in Ginger’s neighborhood.  He really is quite a successful artist, but keeps that a secret when he meets Ginger and persuades her to invest in half of a sweepstakes ticket with him.  Ginger is seriously engaged to Jack Carson, who objects to the terms of the partnership:  if they win, Ginger must go on a trip with Coleman to see the world before she settles down in married bliss. Predictably, they win. You can guess what complications ensue. Directed by Lewis Milestone.

 









     


      Although this is also a comedy, Ronald Coleman plays a very sober and principled judge in the George Stevens film, Talk of the Town (1942). He shares star billing with Cary Grant and Jean Arthur. Grant plays a wrongly accused character who is hiding out in Jean Arthur’s house, which she is renting out to Judge Ronald Coleman, who is there to write a book. After he is unable to continue hiding, Grant forms a somewhat congenial relationship with the judge, pretending to be the gardener. Things get a little sticky when the judge is told he is being nominated for the Supreme Court, and at the same time discovers Grant’s real identity.  With loyalty to both men, Jean Arthur runs interference, and, of course, inspires romantic notions.











      


      Jean Arthur is a favorite star in many well-known comedies of the era, but If You Could Only Cook (1935) is not so well-known.  Co-starring Herbert Marshall and Leo Carillo, Arthur is unemployed and Marshall is the head of an automobile company who has just walked out of a board meeting in a huff.  They meet on a park bench where Arthur is reading the want ads and complaining that there are many ads for couples.  In an inspired moment, she asks Marshall, who she assumes is also unemployed, if he could pose as a butler and apply for a job with her as the cook.  He agrees, on a lark, and they begin work for gangster, Leo Carillo.  If your only experience with Carillo is as Pancho in the Cisco Kid series, you will be pleasantly surprised by his comedy skills. Also starring Lionel Stander with some great lines as Carillo’s suspicious sidekick.  Directed by William A. Seiter.

 









       A similar plot is the vehicle for Paulette Goddard and Fred MacMurray in Standing Room Only (1944). Goddard poses as a secretary when she overhears that the manager, MacMurray, needs one to take to Washington, D.C., where he will be trying to secure a government contract.  But as a secretary she is so incompetent that she cancels their hotel rooms in wartime Washington because she says they were too small. Not able to secure accommodations anywhere else, she finds them rooms in a private home -- as butler and cook for Roland Young and Anne Revere. Revere is great as a major in an organization aiding the war effort, working with paratroopers, and Young is bored with managing the household and has a roving eye. MacMurray is engaged to Hillary Brooke, the daughter of the boss, Edward Arnold. Of course, the moment arrives when they are the dinner guests and much laughter is produced by the ensuing difficulties.  The script is clever and the direction by Sidney Lanfield is crisp, but, in my opinion, it's all about the stars.  Paulette Goddard and Fred MacMurray are just delightful together.

 




 







       Another actress with great comedy skills, Carole Lombard starred in some iconic roles. One film that may not be so well-known is the 1934 farce, Twentieth Century.  Directed by Howard Hawks and written for the screen by the combo of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, the same group that went on to make one of my favorite all-time comedies, His Girl Friday from 1940. This is an influential screwball comedy, co-starring a manic John Barrymore as Oscar Jaffe, a great Broadway producer who has suffered some failures and is in need of a hit. Lombard is a former protégé, and lover, Lily Garland, who has run to Hollywood to escape his controlling and jealous obsessions, and who is now an actress of such stature that she could singlehandedly reverse Jaffe’s fortunes. When Jaffe finds out they will both be taking the train, the 20th Century Limited, from Chicago to New York, he plans to use the trip to convince her to star in his new play. It’s a wild ride and both actors play their parts to the outrageous level. Hilarious.

 






         Edward G. Robinson had an enviable film career as the quintessential tough guy-gangster and a favorite of impressionists (the show biz genre, not the painting style). Few people realize how skilled he was in comedy roles.  When I came across A Slight Case of Murder (1938) on some late-night movie channel, I couldn’t believe it was not better known. Based on a Damon Runyan tale, Robinson stars as Remy Marco, bootlegger turned legit, but not transformed enough that he is happy that his just-returned-from-finishing-school daughter wants to marry a state trooper – a cop!  Meanwhile, some acquaintances from the old days have pulled off a robbery of local bookies’ cash and somehow it is stashed in Remy’s house, and some unreformed types come looking for it.  Oh, and in a bid for respectability Remy has taken in a teenaged delinquent (Dead-End kid, Bobby Jordan), who turns out to be a handful, and whose care Remy delegates to his loyal, but less than capable, associates.  All of this is going on at the same time that Remy and his wife, played by Ruth Donnelly, are giving a party to impress his neighbors, which include the parents of the state trooper. Directed by Lloyd Bacon with precision timing, and co-starring well-known sidekicks, Allen Jenkins, Harold Huber, and Edward Brophy as the loyal associates, this is a fast-paced comedy that has that Damon Runyan wit.

 





       Lloyd Bacon also directed Robinson in Brother Orchid (1940), and it turns out to be a winning comedy combination.  Robinson plays Johnny Sarto, a gangster who has quit the mob to take a grand European tour, and after losing most of his money, returns, hoping to take up his old role as boss, which is now in the hands of his former number two, Jack Buck, played by Humphrey Bogart.  Naturally, Buck has no intention of giving up the job, and decides that Sarto has a lot of dirt on him and must be eliminated.  Sarto escapes being rubbed out by hiding in a monastery, and plays along with the house rules under the guidance of Donald Crisp, who plays the Brother Superior. The contrast of the world view of the gangster and the monk is the basis of the comedy, but the sincere kindness of the brothers drawing a hidden shred of decency from the gangster is what makes this such fun.  Ann Sothern is great as Flo, who loves Sarto, but has to make other plans when he disappears. A young Ralph Bellamy is the "other plan" and is the casualty of a wild wedding day.

 











          In a year of great movies, perhaps the greatest year of great movies, there is one that features two of Hollywood’s most popular stars and is surprisingly little known. It's a Wonderful World from 1939 stars Claudette Colbert and James Stewart, directed by W.S. Van Dyke, with a screenplay by Ben Hecht.  How could this miss? How could this not be well-known?  James Stewart plays a detective, on the lam from being wrongly accused of aiding a murder.  He stumbles on Claudette Colbert, who plays a rather successful poet, kidnaps her, and convinces her that if he is free, he can solve the case and prove his innocence.  She is not only convinced, she tries to help him, much to his chauvinistic dismay. A fine supporting group of character actors round out the cast, and Stewart is pretty good playing kind of a rough guy with some unusual bits of physical comedy, while trying to show how he’s better off without Colbert. Colbert is a comedy pro and does not disappoint in the role.

 



 








       Another lesser-known James Stewart comedy is Come Live With Me from 1941. Directed by Clarence Brown, Stewart’s co-star is the lovely Hedy Lamar, who plays a refugee who has been informed that her visa is expiring and she is running out of legal options.  Her rich, married lover, played by Ian Hunter, is working the system with all of his influence, but, in the meantime, Lamar has met Stewart, a struggling writer, who is also in dire straits, financially.  In desperation (this is wartime and she definitely doesn’t want to go back to Vienna), Hedy asks Stewart to tally up his expenses and she will pay him that as a salary if he will enter into a marriage of convenience to get the immigration people off her case. She only visits him to give him the check, but eventually they end up going to visit Stewart’s grandmother in the country, and boyfriend, Hunter, who coincidentally is a publisher and has read Stewart’s book, which is an account of the arrangement with Lamar, comes racing after them. This is a quiet comedy and a sweet romance.

 












      I may have mentioned this film before, but I have to mention it again because it truly is funny, and is not anywhere as well-known for its stars, William Powell and Myrna Loy, as the Thin Man Series, which everyone loves and admires for the stars’ chemistry and sharp wit. But Love Crazy (1941) directed by Jack Conway with an estimable skill for timing, has a few scenes that will elicit outright laughter, the kind of involuntary response you get from controlled slapstick.  Through a series of unfortunate mistakes that Powell makes on his anniversary, mistakes which are compounded by an obnoxious mother-in-law (Florence Bates), a glamorous old acquaintance who is a new neighbor (Gail Patrick) and a neighbor who gets involved by mistake (Jack Carson), his wife, Myrna Loy, is filing for divorce, and the only way Powell can delay the proceedings is to be declared “crazy” and signed into an institution.  How he gets out and proves his innocence to Loy is the hilarious basis of the rest of the plot. Don’t miss some great lines from Ms. Loy and don’t miss the shower scene!





 



Monday, April 4, 2022

 

Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films




If you need a break from reality…..


        Although, I see the value of the arts, especially in tough times, I sometimes think it can seem a little frivolous to be talking about classic films when Planet Earth is spinning out of control.  That said, the way I deal with it all is to bury myself under the metaphorical blanket of what I call comfort movies.  Present reality can only be absorbed in limited doses.  Then I feel the need to take a break with films that offer more than mere escape, films that wrap me in a quilt of familiar things, of stylish people who inhabit a world of order and reason, where damage is limited and repaired, and I can detox for a brief time.  


       It may seem strange, but I find a lot of comfort in mysteries, and a mystery series in particular, has very comforting characteristics.  In a series, we know what to expect, and right always prevails. The Thin Man (1934) is the first of six films featuring detective, Nick Charles, and his wife, Nora. This series is one of the best because of the chemistry between stars, William Powell and Myrna Loy, and their lighthearted banter that contrasts with the murders in which they find themselves embroiled. It makes murder seem less violent, somehow. It is adapted from the Dashiell Hammett novel and co-stars Maureen O'Sullivan. Although all six are fun, the first three titles are the freshest in terms of style and wit, coming out in the thirties, while the fourth through sixth were less carefree, reflecting the changing life of the couple and the different mood of the forties.


 After the Thin Man (1936), the second in the series, is cleverly titled to appeal to the audience that liked the first, by inferring that  'The Thin Man' was the William Powell character, even though in the first film (and in the novel), it was the corpse.  It co-stars newcomer, James Stewart, in an early role, and takes place in San Francisco.




Nick and Nora travel back to New York for the follow-up, Another Thin Man (1939), where Nick does not want to get involved in another mystery, but does, because he can't refuse to help a family friend.  In this one, they have a baby, as well as Asta, the dog, in a recurring role for Skippy.




           William Powell also lent his stylish manner to two other favorite comfort mysteries.  The Ex-Mrs. Bradford (1936) with Jean Arthur is a neat little mystery that drops into Powell's life along with his ex-wife.  I don't pay much attention to the actual plot, which has a typical pay-off scene with all the suspects gathered, because it's so comforting to watch the sets and Jean Arthur's costumes, and the way the two stars work together.



The other film, Star of Midnight (1935) has a mystery that's even harder to follow, but it's very stylish, especially Powell's apartment -- look for the scene in his bathroom.  His co-star is Ginger Rogers, who plays the daughter of a friend, who had decided that she will marry him one day.  Fun banter, not as fun as with Myrna Loy, but a good time.







          Another series that I find amusing and stress-free is the five Saint mysteries starring George Sanders and the Falcon films, four with George Sanders and ten with his brother, Tom Conway.  George plays the Saint and the Falcon with essentially the same suave and witty sophistication, with a bit of a cad thrown in.  And he puts it all together with that superior, upper-class voice.  Brother, Tom, took over the Falcon role when George was anxious to leave to do more demanding roles.  Tom looks and sounds very much like his brother -- who can forget the voice of the collie in One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961)? 


-- and he went on to make the Falcon series even more successful.








Check out The Saint Takes Over (1940) with Wendy Barrie as the love interest 



and The Saint in Palm Springs (1941), also with Ms. Barrie.




The Falcon and the Co-eds (1943), 


 


The Falcon in Hollywood
 (1944), 




The Falcon in San Francisco (1945),



and The Falcon's Adventure (1946) give a pretty good flavor of this series.



    



        A fun murder mystery (I know -- a contradiction) from 1938 starring Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda, The Mad Miss Manton, has Barb playing one of group of rich girlfriends playing amateur sleuths to solve a murder mystery and getting in reporter Fonda's way.  Amateur sleuths comfort me -- a remembrance of my Nancy Drew days. Not as memorable as their pairing in The Lady Eve (1941), but it is easy to watch.





       A whole series with a female sleuth that is quite entertaining was adapted from the novels by Stuart Palmer.  The character, Hildegarde Withers, is an unmarried schoolteacher of a certain age who uses her superior intelligence to help police inspector, Oscar Piper, solve mysteries.  My favorites are the first three starring Edna Mae Oliver as Hildegarde:  The Penguin Pool Murder (1932) which takes place in the New York Aquarium,



Murder at the Blackboard (1934), which occurs in Ms. Withers' school,




and  Murder on a Honeymoon (1935), where Hildegarde is called to Catalina Island to help James Gleason, who stars as Oscar Piper.



These might see a little primitive, but Hildegarde is entertaining with her sharp tongue and insulting remarks, usually directed at Inspector Piper.  Gleason continues in the role when Helen Broderick takes over the role of Hildegarde in Murder on the Bridal Path (1936),




and when Zasu Pitts play Hildegarde in the last two of the series, The Plot Thickens (1936),



 and Forty Naughty Girls (1937).


So turn off the news. Spend an hour or two with some old mysteries. Be comforted.  




 

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

 

Watchingwell 

                                                                              

                                                             Curated classic films




More on Sacrifice




    Looking back, I see that I thought that last December was the right time it to talk about sacrifice – because we were all in that place where we had to forego many parts of a normal life for the common good – the health of the community.

 

     This year I was thinking about sacrifice in a different light, having heard a lot of whining from the folks who are tired of foregoing normal life.  In fact, some have declared that they are done with the whole health-of-the-community thing – and they are declaring it in very unfortunate ways.  This made me think of my parents’ generation and how I was so glad that they fought Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan and we don't have to.  I don’t know – maybe, people today would come through if push came to shove, but let’s remind ourselves of what another generation had to forego and was willing to do for the common good.

 

     Some people, in Europe and Asia, were meeting life-and-death decisions daily and demonstrating how ordinary people act in extraordinary circumstances. American audiences were fed inspiring tales of their suffering and sacrifice to boost public support of the war effort.


A village in an unnamed country, which seems a lot like occupied France, is the setting for a fine drama from 1943 directed by Jean Renoir.  In This Land is Mine, Charles Laughton plays a timid schoolteacher, babied by his mother, played by Una O’Connor, who secretly loves Maureen O’Hara, and endures fear and scorn under the German occupation of his village until he finds courage at the very end.  It is the tale of a quite ordinary man who undergoes a transformation when the situation requires.  Good supporting performances from George Sanders and Kent Smith.


 

Norway is the setting for two films of resistance to Nazi occupiers, both from 1943. The first, Edge of Darkness, is one of Errol Flynn’s best roles as a fisherman who leads his village in action against the invaders.  Directed by Lewis Milestone, and also starring Ann Sheridan as Flynn’s fiancée, with Walter Huston and Ruth Gordon.


The other film deals with resistance in a less violent, but possibly more dangerous form.  Merle Oberon stars as a woman who is hated as a collaborator, but in reality, is getting information from the Germans that she passes on to the Norwegian underground.  The film, First Comes Courage is notable also because it is directed by Dorothy Arzner, the only female director of her time in Hollywood.


Perhaps the best-known film of ordinary people doing the extraordinary in times of war, Mrs. Miniver, from 1942, swept the Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actress (Greer Garson), Best Actress in a supporting role (Teresa Wright), and best director (William Wyler), as well as Best Cinematography, Black and White, and Best Writing, Screenplay.  It has been said that it is pure propaganda (and Winston Churchill was supposedly in agreement) – one perfect, plucky English family being bombed, participating in the Dunkirk evacuation, capturing a downed German pilot, and losing a family member, and still winning a prize at the garden show – all designed to win support for U.S. aid to Britain, holding out against Germany.  Nevertheless, one can’t help getting caught up – Greer Garson is so convincing – in this family’s story.



Before we leave the subject of Europeans responding to extraordinary times, I would draw your attention to a little film that I saw in the sixties, while not from the Golden Era, is pretty old and I thought it quite inspiring when I saw it. The film, Conspiracy of Hearts from 1960 is the story of a group of nuns in Italy, led by Lili Palmer, and featuring a fine cast, who hide of group of Jewish children from deportation.  It is actually very exciting, directed by Ralph Thomas.


     

      Sometimes, it was necessary to put Americans in Europe to illustrate the dangers of Nazi occupation.

Cary Grant is a reporter in Once Upon a Honeymoon (1942) who tracks down Ginger Rogers, a Burlesque star, who has just married a German ambassador played by Walter Slezak. It seems that bad things happen wherever Slezak goes and Cary wants an interview to find out his Nazi connections.  Directed by Leo McCarey, who can’t resist a few touches of comedy inserted into the dire situation. But even so, when is Cary Grant not worth watching? 


A professor and his new wife are recruited to contact a colleague in Germany while on their honeymoon, a man who has vital information about a German secret weapon. Above Suspicion (1943), adapted from the novel by Helen MacInnes, stars Joan Crawford and Fred MacMurray, with Basil Rathbone and Conrad Veidt playing his usual villain role. Directed by Richard Thorpe.


Note:  Conrad Veidt, pictured above, in between MacMurray and Crawford, recognizable to those familiar with films from the World War II era as the actor most often cast as the Nazi commandant.  His claim to fame before this was starring in the 1920 silent classic, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.  But when the Nazis came to power in Germany, he chose to leave and relocate to England with his wife, and eventually became a British subject.  He was actively anti-Nazi, donating the major portion of his personal fortune to the British government for the war effort, and had it in his contract that he only play Nazis as villains.


Back on the home front, Americans were adapting to shortages of goods and men diverted to the war effort. Women went out to work in factories and tried to manage alone. In Tender Comrades (1942), several women doing war work decide to pool their resources and share a house and housekeeper.  Although the major part of the story is about Ginger Rogers and her romance with new husband, Robert Ryan, who is now fighting overseas, Kim Hunter and Ruth Hussey add different experiences to their little community. Although we can laugh about it now, at the time, it was examined by the thought police of the House Un-American Activities Committee, as a possible endorsement of communism (‘Comrades’ right in the title!) because of the concept of sharing resources and contributing what one is able being so un-American. After hearing this, Ginger Rogers made statements criticizing the picture, even though she turned in a rather good performance. Directed by the very suspect director, Edward Dmytryk.


Housing shortages were most acute in Washington D.C. where the population swelled, directing the war effort.  Jean Arthur thought it was her patriotic duty to sublet a room in her apartment, but hadn’t planned on it being Charles Coburn, or that he would sublet part of his room to Joel McCrea.  So begins the hilarious problems for Jean in The More the Merrier, directed by George Stevens in 1943.  Charles Coburn won an Oscar for actor in a supporting role. One of the great screwball comedies.




Robert Cummings was working in a west coast arms factory in Saboteur, the 1943 Alfred Hitchcock film, when circumstances force him to flee cross-country from a charge of murder. Along the way, he encounters Priscilla Lane, a network of spies, and a plan to do damage to a naval launch, which he decides to foil. Pretty exciting all the way, especially the ending at the Statue of Liberty.



In addition to working in factories, some unlikely sorts become patriotic when they are made to see what is at stake.  Humphrey Bogart stars in All Through the Night from 1942, directed by Vincent Sherman. Bogart is part of a Damon-Runyan-type of New York with a cast of characters who have avoided being bothered by the war. One day, they find German spies are responsible for a murder in their neighborhood and they become involved in uncovering the ring.  A sort of serious approach with touches of comedy from Bogart’s gang:  Frank McHugh, Phil Silvers, William Demarest, and Jackie Gleason, while the menace comes from Peter Lorre and, of course, Conrad Veidt.




Also from 1942, Alan Ladd plays a gangster who is drafted and does all he can to get out of it, to no avail, in Lucky Jordan, directed by Frank Tuttle. Also starring Helen Walker and Sheldon Leonard, Ladd’s character goes AWOL and gets involved with marketing some secret plans to foreign agents. But along the way, he comes to realize that he really doesn’t like the guys on the other side and starts to think it’s worth fighting for something besides himself.

 



While the war was being fought, there were many fine films that paid tribute to the fighting men who had volunteered or been drafted to serve. This certainly was a war of ordinary men being called upon to do extraordinary things.  But there were ordinary women who did extraordinary things at the battlefront.  Two films from 1943 that I have mentioned in previous posts are an illustration of this.  Cry Havoc starring Margaret Sullavan, Joan Blondell, Ann Southern, Fay Bainter, as nurses on Bataan in the days before the surrender.  Directed by Richard Thorpe, its gritty depiction of the conditions under which they worked really affected me as a child when I saw it on TV. Until then, women war heroes were few:  Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale.  


I didn’t see the other film on the subject, So Proudly We Hail until much later, and it has a slightly better reputation because of the production values and the star power of Claudette Colbert, Paulette Goddard, and Veronica Lake. Directed by Mark Sandrich.


*Recently, I found this fascinating 27-minute film about the nurses. Check it out to get the real story. https://archive.org/details/WeAllCameHome




Speaking of Claudette Colbert, I will finish with one my favorite holiday films that also could be called the American equivalent to Mrs. Miniver.  Sure, the family in Since You Went Away, is too perfect, too upper-middle class to have to take in a lodger, with the perfect, devoted maid (Hattie McDaniel) who works for no pay, but with the polish of these actors and filmmakers -- director, John Cromwell, music by Max Steiner, cinematography by Stanley Cortez and Lee Garmes, one is drawn into their story.  Colbert's husband is serving overseas, Jennifer Jones and Shirley Temple are her daughters. Joseph Cotten is a friend of the family who visits while on leave and Monty Woolley is the disgruntled lodger whose grandson, Robert Walker, is a great disappointment to him, and who nevertheless becomes romantically involved with Jennifer Jones (At the time, his real-life wife and shortly to separate, but convincing as a couple here.) Agnes Moorehead is the voice of the not-so-patriotic home front, presented as a contrast to Colbert and her girls, who are happy to be doing their part. For all the contrivances to win our sympathy, I defy anyone to watch this completely dry-eyed, especially, the train station farewell.




Happy Holidays!