Michael

The Omega Man (1971)

Apocalypse Now?

I began The Omega Man with some initial trepidation from the not so great editing (including a pointless fade away on zooming out shot) the use of sped-up footage and obvious line dubbing; thankfully after that, it gets better. It must appreciated the filmmakers clearing the streets of Los Angles with spanning, wide shots of the city in which it is deserted; no easy task. To accomplish this the filmmakers had to film during Sunday morning and due to filming at this golden hour, the deserted streets and the golden light reflecting off the buildings has a real beauty to it. I don’t know of the film’s budget but it does come off feeling like a low budget production but does so in a charming way. The campy 70’s sounding music score feels like it’s on the verge of killing the mood and being too corny but just about manages to avoid doing so.

Charlton Heston’s Nevillie feels like the predecessor to modern action movie heroes with his use of one-liners. The scene in which he pretends to negotiate with a dead salesman at a car dealership feels very Arnold Schwarzenegger. On the other hand I do find there is some Initial unintentional humour coming from seeing Heston dressed as an aristocrat and talking to a chess-playing bust of Julius Caesar but once that settles these do showcase some poignant scenes of the last man alive trying to keep himself occupied; also I do love this little world he has created for himself in his apartment. Likewise seeing the later Republican Heston watching and the enjoying the film Woodstock and even reciting lines is intriguingly odd. The Omega Man also features one of the earliest on-screen interracial kisses between black and white. I don’t know if it was intentional that a film about repopulating the Earth has an interracial romance but thankfully doesn’t have to call attention to itself.

The Omega is a perfect example of Charlton Heston’s immense screen presence and his ability to carry a movie as he spends much of the runtime alone. When I think “screen presence” several actors will pop into my head, Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas, Clark Gable and of course Charlton Heston.

Ben-Hur (1959)

You Truly Are The King Of Kings

Metro Goldwyn Mayer hadn’t created a production this big since Gone with The Wind some twenty years earlier. Ben-Hur was created with the intent of lifting the studio out of financial trouble, yet somehow along the way art managed to be created. With the gloriously pompous opening credits set to the backdrop of The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo and the booming horns of Miklos Rozsa’s score, the stage is set. During the early scenes of Ben-Hur, I get the satisfaction of knowing that everything in front of the camera is real and had to be assembled, such as every single extra in those trails of Roman soldiers which go back as far as the eye can see. Ben-Hur was William Wyler’s Cecil B. DeMille picture, well certainly thematically. Technologically Ben-Hur is an incredibly different film to those made by DeMille. The films of DeMille’s where largely staged despite their epic scope which does work in its own way and while I’m not trying to dismiss The Ten Commandments (it is my favourite biblical epic) it can’t be denied Wyler is a far superior craftsman and that comes through in Ben-Hur; his filling of the frame is more rich and vibrant with a great sense of depth of field. At nearly four hours long, Ben-Hur is the perfect example of how to pace a movie of long length; it feels shorter than it is.

Ben-Hur was only one of a handful of movies shot using the MGM Camera 65; an extremely wide aspect ratio. The wide lens is not just for grand sweeping shots, it helps make the intimate, close up moments more immense and make the actors more godlike. Any close up of only one actor in the middle of the frame with an out of focus background looks majestic. Ben-Hur seems to be a movie largely remembered for just its spectacle, which is a shame. It is also a movie of rich layered vibrancy, evoking the senses and full of emotion.

The story also includes that age-old idea of one’s destiny being by a seemingly insignificant event. If that tile didn’t fall off the roof during the Roman parade and killed the governor then things may have turned out very differently. I also love Jack Hawkins’ words of “You have the spirit to fight back, but a good sense to control it”, and “[hate] That’s good, hate keeps a man alive; it gives him strength”; two more additions to my book of life advice from movie quotes.

People will be quick to dismiss Charlton Heston as a ham actor. He’s a classically trained actor, over the top and boisterous at times (in a good way) but so was Laurence Oliver yet everyone gives him a free pass; I guess when you’re the star of mainstream, blockbuster films then you don’t garner as much respect. The style of acting is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I relish in it.

One of the reasons why the famous chariot race is so great is because the action is real; people were actually put in danger’s way for the creation of art. There is no music during the race; just primarily the sound effects of the chariots and horses storming across the ground with the cheers from the immense crowd of spectators nor was any rear screen projections used; it’s all the real deal. The filmmakers brought 2,000 years ago back to life; nine minutes of cinema history in which your eyes are truly glued to the screen; the chariot race is one of the reasons why the 1959 film version of Ben-Hur will always be the definitive version. If anyone thinks they can do a chariot race which is better then they are fooling themselves. Imagine if Hollywood remade Ben-Hur with a CGI chariot race, that would be really awful, wouldn’t it? Oh wait, never mind. The ship battle sequence on the other hand, while superb I do feel the battle in the 1925 version of Ben-Hur is more effective in which lifeboats full of extras were used rather than the remake’s use of miniatures and rear projection shots. Not to mention the 1925 sequence is more brutal, with people being tied to the front of ships and snakes are catapulted into enemy boats.

Even as someone who is not religious I can’t deny the power of the film’s religious moments such as the scene of Jesus giving Judah water and the Roman guard being unable to whip him, and even the birth of Jesus appears very dreamlike. Even the use of miracles as a device to resolve plot points doesn’t hurt my enjoyment of the film such as the section of the movie at the Leper colony; a powerful and disturbing pair of sequences in which people segregated from the rest of society with a debilitating illness. Yet is it not an easy way out when the leprosy of Judah’s mother and sister are cured instantly via a miracle? Regardless, such use of Deus Ex Machina does not hurt my enjoyment of Ben-Hur.

The Yakuza [ザ・ヤクザ/Za Yakuza] (1974)

Perhaps You’ve Heard of the Yakuza, the Poison Fists of the Pacific Rim. The Japanese Mafia!

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

In the audio commentary for The Yakuza, director Sydney Pollack speaks of what attracted him to the project, that he wanted to create a film which examines the clash between western and eastern cultures. In particular, the opposing view the two share on forgiveness. The Christian ethic in the West believes that confession absolves one of guilt and sin, whereas in Japanese culture, forgiveness is something you must earn; if you cause pain, then the only way to atone for it is to inflict pain upon yourself. As protagonist Harry Kilmer (Robert Mitchum) is described at one point in the film, “When my brother spoke of you as a unique stranger, I took it to mean that you were a westerner who had values consistent with our own, that a man pays his own debts, discharges his own obligations, that they are all that make him a man”.

Kilmer is a World War II veteran who remained in Japan after the war and fell in love with a Japanese woman, Eiko Tanaka (Keiko Kishi). I find it difficult to imagine a better choice for the role of Harry Kilmer than Robert Mitchum. The ultra-cool, world-weary actor (who still retained a magnificent mane of hair in his old age) carries a real level of gravitas. An icon of film noir and someone who was often cast in movies about the war in the Pacific, his casting in this neo-noir on the seedy underworld of Japanese gangsters is a perfect marriage of actor and role.

The Yakuza is a love letter to Japanese cinema. You couldn’t ask for a non-Japanese production about Japan to be more respectful, thoroughly researched and authentic than The Yakuza. The opening credits themselves are reminiscent of the film Kaidan (1964), while the names of the Japanese actors appear in the traditional last name, first name format. The score by Dave Grusin is itself magnificent, combining eastern and western influences, delivering a real sense of aching beauty as it plays alongside scenes of the bustling, neon-lit Tokyo streets. The filmmakers clearly took full advantage of the Japanese locations at their disposal; the Kyoto International Conference Centre is an incredible piece of architecture (it’s not a 70’s movie unless there’s some brutalist architecture), while the sento (public bath) with its minimalist waterfall and carp-filled aquariums has a real Blade Runner vibe. Westernisation in Japan is often a shock to outsiders, and that is on display in The Yakuza, in particular, the scene in the nightclub in which patrons are singing My Darling Clementine. However, as stated early in the picture, “The farmers in the countryside may watch TV on their tatami mats, and you can’t see Fuji through the smog, but don’t let it fool you. It’s still Japan. And the Japanese are still Japanese.”

Kilmer and his friend Oliver Wheat (Herb Edelman) are so engaged with Japanese culture and its customs to the point that they’re second nature to them. Richard Jordan, as Dusty, on the other hand, acts as the audience surrogate character for the non-Japanese viewer as he experiences Japanese culture for the first time. He expresses a genuine interest and curiosity, such as when he gets too comfortable examining a katana sword, to expressing his observations; “When an American cracks up, he opens the window and shoots up a bunch of strangers. When a Japanese cracks up, he closes the window and shoots himself. Everything’s in reverse, isn’t it?”. The Yakuza is part of the Gaijin subgenre of films. A long lineup of films about foreigners’ interaction and navigation through Japanese culture, often confronting their own cultural blind spots. The Yakuza wouldn’t even be actor Ken Takakura’s (as Eiko’s brother Ken) final appearance in such a film, as he would also appear in Ridley Scott’s thematically similar Black Rain (1989) and the sports comedy Mr. Baseball (1992), playing the cultural counterpart to a foreigner. From what I understand, Takakura only had a perfunctory understanding of English, although watching The Yakuza, you would think the man is fully fluent.

The scenes involving the dealings of The Yakuza themselves give the film the vibe of being the oriental Godfather; suited men negotiating at desks while smoking cigarettes, with a strict hierarchy and their own set of customs (such as the introduction of extending their hand from their right knee to show they have no weapon). The Yakuza is a film with some very violent scenes, but it is not a schlocky film; thus, the violence is portrayed in a classy, arty tone and not gratuitously, with an effective combination of gunfire and katana duels. The film does, however, have one reality-bending moment in which a gangster has his arm chopped off, yet the severed arm continues to hold a gun and fires it in mid-air (either way, it looks cool). The film’s rescue plot, in which Harry, Dusty and Ken have to rescue a kidnapped American girl, and its messy aftermath is quite complicated and hard to follow with its web of conspiracy and double crossing, but even during my first viewing of The Yakuza, it didn’t detract from the film’s emotional core.

The romance angle of The Yakuza is established with a Casablanca-like set-up. After Eiko refuses to marry Harry (a love made forbidden due to family ties), Harry leaves Japan, but leaves Eiko a café named the Kilmer House as a sayonara gift. Following Harry’s return to Japan, he arrives at the Kilmer House just as the café is closing for the night, to greet Eiko for the first time in 20 years, as they subsequently spend the evening reliving their nostalgic memories of the occupation years. The Yakuza shows that Mitchum was not only a tough guy, but could also play a great romantic lead with a tough yet tender personality. So why did Eiko refuse to marry Harry despite being in love with him? In the film’s big final third twist, the man we are led to believe is Eiko’s brother, Ken (who returned from the jungle several years following the end of the war), is actually her husband. Although Ken was always grateful to Harry for saving Eiko’s life after the war, his current return to Japan is what leads to the death of their daughter, Hanako (Christina Kokubo), at the hands of Yakuza – a disbalancing of debt and obligation.

Upon Harry’s realisation that ‘’I destroyed his past and future”, Harry offers Ken an apology fitting of a former Yakuza, completing the overarching theme of the film. In a scene featuring some of the finest acting of Mitchum’s career, Harry performs the Yakuza ritual of Yubitsume (cutting off the tip of one’s little finger). During the scene, there is the nervous anticipation as Harry sits down, takes a deep breath, then takes out a handkerchief and knife with the look on his face of “I can’t believe I’m really going to do this”, before proceeding with the act itself. He offers the severed fingertip to Ken, as Harry’s face and voice are overcome with physical and emotional pain as he delivers words of sorrow in both English and Japanese (“No man has a greater friend”). The Yakuza ends with a sense of tragic yet melancholic closure. However, why did Eiko never tell Harry the truth all those years ago? Would the truth not have caused less heartache? The final interaction between Harry and Eiko puts a cap on this ambiguity:

“I have no more secrets, do I, Harry?”

“Never run out of those darling.”

Ash Wednesday (1973)

The Fountain of Youth

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Richard Burton hated this movie, calling it a “f***ing bloody, lousy, nothing film”: I must strongly disagree. Ash Wednesday paints a haunting picture of a plastic surgery hospital, with patients walking around like zombies with bandages over their heads in a last desperate bid to be young again. As Keith Baxter’s character puts it “we all simply refuse to accept reality”. One moment during the film is in which a group of patients are playing cards; reminds me of the ‘waxworks’ scene from Sunset Boulevard. Realistic or not, this whole section of the movie is eerie and effective. Even after Elizabeth Taylor has left the hospital there is this continuing sense of unease, as if she has just sold her soul to the devil; helped in part by Maurice Jarre’s music score. The movie’s theme of fading beauty is made all the more poignant since its Elizabeth Taylor of all people doing the role.

The first act of Ash Wednesday features graphic scenes of plastic surgery. Watching the film I didn’t know if they were real or just really convincing special effects. Nope, it turns out it is real footage with skin being cut open and plenty of exposed flesh in close up detail. I do wonder who is actually under the knife in this footage but it is an effectively put together sequence in which I believed Elizabeth Taylor’s character was the one undertaking plastic surgery.

The opening credits of the film feature a series of cut and paste photographs of Elizabeth Taylor and Henry Fonda in an effort to make it appear they have been a married couple as they age over the years. Fonda being much older than Taylor in real life, these series of photos feature the two at the same age periods, so a photo of Fonda in the 30’s will be cut and paste with a picture of Taylor from the 50’s. It’s not entirely convincing but is neat to look at.

What I appreciate most about Ash Wednesday is just honest the storytelling is. Taylor’s husband played by Henry Fonda simply doesn’t love her anymore, there is no sexual attraction between the two them and they don’t satisfy each other’s needs anymore; yet he doesn’t come off as a jerk getting these points across. Untimely the two learn to accept this but not without having an understanding of each other and move on with their lives.

Ash Wednesday has yet to ever see the light of day on DVD, remaining VHS only.

Summertime (1955)

Summer Summer Summertime

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Watching Summertime kind of feels like going on a holiday, it just has that summer-like feel to it which is hard to describe. The film doesn’t have the epic scope of David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia or Doctor Zhivago yet it still has that same epic feel. I’ve never been to Venice but with the European cities I have been to, you know that they feel like time capsules. Summertime also feels like a documentary that could have been filmed in subsequent decades (whenever 1950’s fashion isn’t apparent on screen) adding to the timeless aspect of the film. I often say it but the world itself is the greatest movie set of them all. Just as impressive is the sound design. The ambient noise of footsteps, dogs barking, birds singing or music in the faint background; Summertime is a good movie to have playing the in the background to create an atmosphere in your own house. I am however disappointed to report however the UK DVD release of Summertime from Second Sight is pan & scan only, shame on you!

Katharine Hepburn plays a tourist who exhibits a number of stereotypical tourist habits including the need to record everything she sees, I guess that’s not such an annoying modern trait (all that is missing are the selfies). At least though she is an independent spinster who wants to see the authentic side of another country and not the phony stuff in comparison to the couples she meets who fall for the tourist traps and guided tours. This is one of the aspects of Summertime which I can relate to as the older I get I have less patience for organised group trips abroad and just want to go off for an adventure at my own will. That and the romantic fantasy of going to an exotic place by yourself in search of love. At its, heart Summertime is a deeply tragic film once we discover just how lonely Katharine Hepburn’s character is as she tries to mask her emotion and not feel awkward when conversing with married couples. We know little of this character’s background and why she is going on holiday on your own?

David Lean may be known for his epic visuals, but the man can create an incredibly emotional story (I still say the ending of Brief Encounter is one of the most powerful film moments I’ve ever witnessed). Summertime draws a number of parallels to Brief Encounter and of course, the movie ends with the two being separated at a train station as he rushes to get there before the train leaves. It’s a cliché ending used for decades but for good reason, I believe.

Man’s Favorite Sport? (1964)

Can You Smell What the Rock Is Cooking?

Man’s Favorite Sport? would have to be my favourite neo-screwball comedy (does such a term already exist or can I claim to have invented it?), and perhaps the last screwball directed by one of the original masters of the genre, Howard Hawks.

The factor which by far most surprised me in Man’s Favorite Sport? was Rock Hudson. My previous encounters with the actor left me unimpressed, leaving me to classify him as one of classic Hollywood’s duller leading men. However, the fact that I not only enjoyed his performance in this film but found him hysterically funny was such a shock that I was demanding answers. Did Hudson acting abilities improve by 1964? Is he better than comedy than drama or had he just grown on me? It just goes to show that there are very few classic Hollywood stars who can’t impress me in at least some small way or another, even if my previous impression of them were not very good. Paula Prentiss is also entering my books as a one-hit wonder actress; I’ve yet to see her in another film in which she is as joyous and energetic as this with that comically imposing voice of hers. Being a semi-remake of Hawk’s Bringing Up Baby, the two leads could have just done impressions of Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn but the avoid doing so and make the roles their own but like Grant and Hepburn their chemistry is on fire.

This movie exemplifies in the early to mid-1960’s aesthetic with its fashion, the cars and overall appearance showcasing the final days of old Hollywood glamour. I want to know who the set designer in this film was; the revolving bar alone has to be one of the most unabashedly 60’s sets ever. Even the less “out there” sets such an office, or a fishing shop, have a certain beauty to them. The film’s colorful visuals help give it the appearance of a live action cartoon, partly due to the fact that many of the outdoor scenes take place on obviously fake sets but then again isn’t a live-action cartoon one of the definitions of screwball comedy. I also don’t normally go for those cheesy opening credit songs from the 50’s and 60’s often sang by the likes of Doris Day but this one is dam catchy.

Unlike the manic intensity of its sister film Bringing Up Baby, Man’s Favorite Sport? is surprising a very relaxing film to watch, aided by lakeside resort setting and Henry Mancini’s music score, which is so mellow. I just love the juvenile innocence of the gags present in this film, such as a bear riding on a motorcycle to many variations of William Powell’s fishing scene from Libeled Lady. Likewise, the common screwball comedy theme of crises of masculinity permeates the film. Hudson’s Rodger Willoughby (a name which feels straight from a 1930’s comedy) is an icon of masculinity from writing books about fishing, yet he is secretly a phony who has never fished in his life and completely fails at his attempts at his attempts at outdoor living while being made the foil of two hyperactive women. Man’s Favorite Sport? shows by the 60’s it was still possible to make these kinds of movies with the same velocity they had back in the 30’s.

Night Nurse (1931)

I’m Nick…the Chauffeur!

It doesn’t take long into Night Nurse to see the film isn’t a very positive portrayal of the health care service circa depression-era United States. Dr. Kildare this is not and even makes 1934’s Men In White come off as a more an idealised vision of the health care system in the 1930’s; Night Nurse is anything but. All within the picture’s first ten minutes Lora Hart (Barbara Stanwyck) is turned down for the job as a nurse but then gets it after catching the fancy from another doctor. Likewise one of the interns is a pervert and fellow nurse Maloney (Joan Blondell) recommends tricking patients into thinking you’ve saved their life in order to get money out of them. Blondell’s character, in particular, I really found myself loathing from an actress who normally played such likable characters. She clearly dislikes her profession and even recites the Florence Nightingale pledge while chewing gum – Night Nurse is a movie with a wide range of despicable human beings on display. There is even a scene which appears to show an actual baby in distress and another in which children talk about in graphic terms of the mental and physical abuse they and their dead sister have received – not very comfortable viewing.

Director William Wellman was one of the most interesting filmmakers during the pre-code era, whose film’s go against the conception of movies from the early 1930s being static and lacking camera movement or fluidity. Night Nurse is a perfect example of the kind of pictures Warner Bros produced during the 1930’s; a thought-provoking socially conscious melodrama. Whether or not it’s exaggerated, the plot of hospital corruption and the ineffectiveness of both the hospital and the authorities to prevent child abuse, the movie does succeed in packing a punch. What does it say when the intervention of gangsters, people working outside the law are required to save the lives of two children? Warner Bros was also known for featuring ethnic casts in their movies. At the beginning of the movie a shot focuses on a group of Chinese people sitting around a hospital bed speaking in their native language, helping to set the film’s gritty mood. There is also an emphasises later in the film that the shop which is broken into in order to steal milk for a bath in order to save the lives of malnourished children is from a Kosher delicatessen. Is there a particular reason for this? This was 1931 but history has made of this scene of the delicatessen windows being smashed unintentional creepy.

The other major reason to watch Night Nurse is to see Clark Gable in the pre-stardom role of Nick the Chauffeur in his glorious 5 minutes and 25 seconds (approx) of screen time (yes, I timed it). The film builds up to his reveal with the name of this unscrupulous “Nick” being thrown around. His character’s introduction with the use of a camera zoom and the uttering of “I’m Nick…the chauffeur” gives me chills in one of the most memorable moments in pre-code cinema. Gable is scary enough as a dominating brute who wants to murder children and isn’t afraid to punch women or the elderly but this is multiplied by the fact that he’s dressed like a Nazi. Ok not really, it’s a chauffeur’s uniform but when I first saw him wearing this, my instant reaction was “Why is he dressed like an SS officer?” (likewise, just as equally striking is his costume choice of a black kimono). The role of Nick is an odd duckling in the career of Gable which shown he had the knack for playing terrifying villains – such unrealised potential. As much as the man’s appearance in the background is enough to make you go, “oh s—t!”, and in a big way sister.

Adventures of Don Juan (1948)

Juan But Not Forgotten

You could look at it cynically and view Adventures of Don Juan as a career life support, seeing Errol Flynn going to back to doing what made him famous in the first place after a string of unsuccessful pictures at the box office but it is none the less Errol Flynn returning to do what he does best. Despite not having done a swashbuckler since The Sea Hawk in 1940, Adventures of Don Juan manages to recapture the magic of his earlier days in this very dialogue driven swashbuckler. Flynn’s signs of ageing are increasingly apparent but considering his health and status as a star this would have been the final time Flynn could have headlined a big budget production such as this.

The Technicolor here doesn’t have the striking vibrancy of The Adventures of Robin Hood but the beautiful, detailed backdrops and very large scale sets with immaculate attention to detail are superb. The only complaint I have production wise is the very obvious use of footage taken from The Adventures of Robin Hood which sticks out from the rest of a movie which was filmed a decade later. It’s a shame they couldn’t get Michael Curtiz to direct for one last Flynn adventure or Erich Wolfgang Korngold to do the music score, none the less Max Steiner’s score does the job. I also previously knew Viveca Lindfors as the teacher from the 1985 comedy The Sure Thing. To see her 37 years earlier play a Spanish queen in the 17^th century was such a contrasting role.

Unlike John Barrymore’s take on Don Juan in 1926, Flynn’s Don Juan uses the character’s insatiable lust for woman for laughs rather than for tragedy (I doubt a film in the tone of the Barrymore Don Juan could be made during the code era). Flynn’s Don Juan is a charmer but with a tad buffoonery to him, who’s lovemaking antics threaten relations between England and Spain. However, Flynn injects some John Barrymore into his performance with his manner of speaking, which it should then come as no surprise that Flynn would later portray Barrymore in Too Much, Too Soon. What is also taken over from the Barrymore Don Juan is the famous breathtaking epic dive down the stairs, and it does not disappoint.

The two villains in Adventures of Don Juan, the King of Spain (Romney Brent) and the Duke de Lorca (Robert Douglas) attempt to hatch a plan to build an armada in secret for world conquest and use shady tactics along the way such as abducting subjects by force for the navy. This was only a few years after the Second World War had ended and the memories of Hitler were still vivid in people’s minds. Robert Douglas channels a bit of Basil Rathbone in his performance while the partnership between these two villains is the classic Emperor/Darth Vader set up; with one figure taking the public limelight and the other pulling the strings behind the scenes; as the Duke de Lorca puts it, “I have no desire to sit on a throne, I much prefer to stand behind it”.

Silk Stockings (1957)

In Soviet Russia, Stockings Wear You!

I’m rather disappointed with the latter era MGM musicals. High Society, Les Girls, Gigi; as one of the numbers in Gigi sums it up: “It’s a bore!” Silk Stockings is one of the better ones, not perfect but it shows this now increasingly outdated style of musical could still be glorious, despite their lack of economic viability from the rise of television. Whereas High Society came off to me as an unneeded remake of The Philadelphia Story, Silk Stockings manages to hold its own and not come off as a cheap remake Ninotchka, which was released prior to the cold war in 1939 (and not doing much good for American-Soviet relations). Silk Stockings was made right during the cold war and towards the end of the McCarthy years. It’s interesting seeing the story of love overcoming ideology retold from the cold war perspective in this critique of communism just like Ninotchka before it favours the gayety and decadence of the west to the rigid and gray world of the Soviet Union. While Silk Stockings may be moving denouncing communism it does paint a positive picture of Russian arts. The movie, however, is self-aware its propaganda, with the film being made within the film described as “The iron curtain dissolved by music” and Astaire gleefully proclaiming the film within a film as “what propaganda!”

The influence of the director Rouben Mamoulian is one of the aspects which helps elevate Silk Stockings. Mamoulian was one of the most innovative directors of the 1930’s, whose credits include the ground-breaking musicals Applause and Love Me Tonight. Although this was 1957 and his final film, he was an innovator of the genre and his handsome direction is apparent throughout the film. The musical numbers take full advantage of the Cinemascope frame, such as the number ‘We Can’t Go Back to Russia’ which features multiple people dancing at once in a long, unbroken shot. While Fred Astaire is dancing, Peter Lorre might be doing something amusing in the background. The dancing on display in the film is not Astaire’s most accomplished but is entertaining none the less. Mamoulian never worked with Ninotchka director Ernst Lubitsch, although Love Me Tonight did feature Lubitsch elements, as well as regular Lubitsch stars Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald. Elements of the famous Lubitsch Touch are present throughout Silk Stockings; for example, when the Soviet commissar has just finished his first encounter with Ninotchka and is surprised to discover she is a woman, his secretary then bursts into the room to tell him this very fact, very much a Lubitsch inspired gag.

Cyd Charisse succeeds in holding her own, not merely doing an imitation of Greta Garbo; showing that she was an underrated actress as well as a great dancer. Plus it simply a pleasure seeing Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse reunited again after The Band Wagon. Astaire could have conceivably played Melvyn Douglas’ role back in 1939 (I often wish the man could have done more non-musical comedic roles) so his casting does work; plus I’ve always championed Astaire’s for his unsung comic abilities. The casting of Peter Lorre as one of the three operatives is a brilliant decision, while Janis Page is also very entertaining as the uncultured actress Peggy Dayton.

The film’s selection of songs written by Cole Porter are very good. ‘Stereophonic Sound’ is a satire on the habits of moviegoers more concerned with a film’s technical aspects over the content of the film itself, while Cyd Charrise’s solo dance number captures the decadence of capitalism in the form of dance. The ‘Ritz Roll n’ Rock’ reflects the changing musical landscape from jazz to rock n’roll and appropriately so as this marked Astaire’s retirement from musicals, in the final number of the film dressed in his trademark top hat, white tie, and tails; what a send-off! Although my favourite number in the film is Astaire and Charisse dancing on a film set in ‘All You Dance’, simply beautiful. The big flaw I have with Silk Stockings, however, is the length; at the two hours the movie is too long and some trimming could have gone a long way. With thirty minutes chopped out, Silk Stockings could go from a good movie to a great one.

Dark Passage (1947)

The Man With Bogart’s Face

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Dark Passage is one of the more experimental movies of Hollywood’s golden age with the majority of the film’s first third being filmed from the first person point of view of Humphrey Bogart’s character. I never thought a black & white movie from the 1940’s would remind me of a modern video game. I would like to see more films which experiment with this point of view style. MGM’s Lady In the Lake (also released in 1947) was filmed in POV for the entire film which the studio promoted by claiming the POV style was the most revolutionary style of film since the introduction of the talkies. Nope, it didn’t catch on. The use of POV took me off guard at first as I wanted to watch some Bogart but I did not get to see him on screen. Bogart’s distinctive voice alone though helps carry the picture, thanks in part to his many witty remarks. We’re then given a section of the movie in which Bogart doesn’t talk and is wrapped in bandages looking like a horror movie character (these scenes also make me squeamish). Considering we have to wait a whole hour until we finally see and hear Bogart in his entirely makes Dark Passage nothing short of a daring role.

For the plot, you do need to suspend your disbelief at the number of highly improbable coincidences. Irene (Bacall) just happens to be out painting near San Quentin on the day Vincent Parry (Bogart), the man she has an obsession with escapes and she knows where to find him. Oh, and she also happens to be friends with Madge (Agnes Moorehead) who gave false testimony in court against Parry that he murdered his wife. I find it is easy however to just roll along with the ridiculous plot as the movie plays out like a dream, culminating in the satisfaction of seeing Bogart get his revenge on Agnes Moorehead (a useless old bag and a real love to hate character) and seeing these two characters getting their happily ever after together in South America. One minor complaint I have is the reveal of Frank Parry’s face on the newspaper, prior to getting plastic surgery; because the character doesn’t actually have Bogart’s face, I would have preferred the mystery of not knowing what he looks like. Also, a plastic surgeon who can give you the face of Humphrey Bogart? Someone should have told Woody Allen that in Play It Again Sam. Dark Passage in part sees the return of gangster Bogart but still has the romantic elements of his on-screen persona which he developed after achieving stardom. Right from the very beginning, we’re in classic gangster territory, a prisoner escaping from San Quentin, the type of setting not seen in a Bogart film since High Sierra. The on-location filming in San Francisco also really adds to the film, giving you a sense of the world the movie inhabits and Irene’s apartment with the two floors and the art deco designs – I want it!

I once said ‘All Through the Night’ was the most Hitchcockian film Bogart starred in but Dark Passage wouldn’t be far behind it. We get the innocent man falsely accused on the run while trying to prove his innocence. The focusing on landmarks (the Golden Gate Bridge), while the San Francisco setting has some Vertigo vibes. The trippy plastic surgery sequence feels reminiscent of the Salvador Dali dream sequence in Spellbound; while Madge’s death rings a bell of the character death shots in Vertigo in which someone falls from a great distance.

When attempting to review a movie, I can’t always predict how much I will have to say about it. Occasionally though you get movies like Dark Passage, which have layers and layers of fascinating details worth talking about. Dark Passage is my favourite Bogart & Bacall film, although to be honest, I was never a huge fan of their partnership. To Have and Have Not bored me and The Big Sleep was, well, a big sleep. Plus I never fully got the appeal of Lauren Bacall; she never struck me as a massively interesting screen presence. I find Bacall plays a much more interesting character than in the previous two Bogie & Bacall pairings. Not a vamp but a lonely single woman who purses painting as a hobby. During the first kiss between Bogart and Bacall, I had the reaction of “Ok, now I’m getting it”.