Juzo Itami’s penultimate film Supermarket Woman has all the hallmarks of a movie intentionally trying to position itself for cult classic adoration from its quirky premise to the film’s comic book-like aesthetic in terms of both its visuals as well as the comiclly clear-cut distinction of good-guys and bad-guys. Above all, Supermarket Woman feels like a film in which its visual motifs were created with the intention of selling real-world merchandise. I’d happily buy t-shirts with the logos of fictional supermarket rivals Honest Mart and Discount Demon.
The noble but failing Honest Mart is struggling against its absurdly evil rival Discount Demon, a supermarket run like a militaristic operation out of Imperial Japan (with their business meetings emitting strong Yakuza vibes). Discount Demon is the Chum Bucket to the Krusty Krab or Mondo Burger to Good Burger, thus it takes the ever-fabulous Nobuko Miyamoto as Hanako Inoue to use her womanly, housewife intuition to reinvigorate Honest Mart. Miyamoto’s impeccable comic timing both physical and verbal has a real sense of contagious enthusiasm. Much of the sheer fun within Supermarket Woman comes from the screwball comedy-like antics of Hanako and her co-workers as they try to please customers and right various wrongs, from gathering hoards of shopping carts left in the parking lot to dealing with frustrated Karens on the verge of asking for the manager. Equally as memorable is Miyamoto’s wardrobe of bright, contrasting colours. Even when she wears an informal blazer it is accompanied alongside tartan trousers and sneakers, in keeping with a character who never takes herself too seriously.
Just how accurate a reflection is Supermarket Woman of Japanese commerce in the post-bubble 1990s? It is unique to observe a wholly independent supermarket that doesn’t trade under a franchise name (something which I’ve never even seen in my own country). This is emblematic of the world Supermarket Woman inhabits, one which presents Japanese supermarkets like the Wild West with the absence of any legal regulations or government oversight. Discount Demon is determined to eliminate the competition so they can raise prices, while both outlets engage in actions such as repacking food with a new expiry date, mixing meats and passing them off as more expensive cuts and even falsely advertising imported meat as being home-breed Japanese.
The exterior and interior of Honest Mart is a world of unbridled, Americana-inspired artifice with its frequent use of checkered patterns and bright colours (in particular the film’s prominent use of pink and red) as well as a general warm and fuzzy atmosphere. To accompany this is the film’s soundtrack to consumer capitalism – stereotypically, catchy department store music by composer Toshiyuki Honda. Can any lost media sleuths track down an isolated version of the score? As far as weirdly specific film accolades go, Supermarket Woman is the 2nd best Supermarket-themed film I’ve ever seen. The top spot goes to oddly enough, another Japanese film, Mikio Naruse’s Yearning (1964). Recommend for a slightly more unorthodox double-feature experience.
Due to the complex and troubled production behind Superman II it seems likely it would have been destined to become a disaster of a film with the switching of directors from Richard Donner to Richard Lester during the principal photography process. However, instead of turning into a Frankensteinian mess of two director’s visions stitched together into one, I consider Superman II to be the perfect Superman film. A film which improves on the original in so many ways and delivers a more emotionally satisfying film and offering two hours of pure escapist bliss. A rare instance of the perfect combination of cast and crew coming together to create something wonderful. I will also take this opportunity to say: Lester cut > Donner cut (yes, this is a hill I am willing to die on). After watching Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut I thought to myself “Thank God Donner was fired from this production and replaced with Richard Lester”. Within the Donner cut, the romance between Lois and Clark is very forced and underdeveloped; there is a lack of humour, and no exaggeration, one of the absolute worst endings I’ve ever seen – but that’s for another review.
Lester’s style for Superman II forsakes the more epic scope Richard Donner employed for the first film, instead opting for scenes in the film to more resemble the frames of a comic book – Superman II does have more of a comic book/pop-art vibe. Lester brought on cinematographer Robert Paynter for the film to evoke the colour scheme of the comics however the contrast between Lester’s new footage and that shot by Donner which still made it into the film (i.e. all of Gene Hackman’s scenes) isn’t great enough to become distracting. Superman II has a much more brisk pace than the first film, as evident by the opening scene which re-edits the Kryptonian council’s trial of Zod, Ursa and Non to that of a more frantic pace. It does create a continuity issue with the first film as Marlon Brando has been completely removed from the scene (and is absent for the entire film), however, I am able to look past this as the opening is just so darn exciting and perfectly establishes the tone for the rest of the film. With all the setting up done in the first film, Superman II is able to get straight into the thick of it with the action sequence involving terrorists at the Eiffel Tower, and creating high stakes right off the bat. Correspondingly, another individual who doesn’t return for Superman II is that of composer John Williams and thus is lacking the sounds of The London Symphony Orchestra. Rather the film is scored with a smaller orchestra led by composer Ken Throne, however, I actually don’t mind the stripped-down approach to the music and find it does work in its own way. John Williams may have written the iconic Superman theme, but I find Ken Throne’s faster rendition for the opening credits of Superman II to be the best version of the famous theme with its quicker tempo. Likewise, someone in the production must have been fond of the Average White Band song Pick Up The Pieces as not only does it appear in the film, there is a neat orchestral version of it during the second dinner scene.
While their appearance in Superman: The Movie was fleeting, Superman II finally gives us General Zod (Terrence Stamp) and his two accomplices Ursa (Sarah Douglas) and Non (Jack O’Halloran) in all their glory. Terrence Stamp as Zod is one of those performances which bring me eternal levels of respect for an actor. Every one of his beautiful hammed-up, menacing lines I could listen to all day (a posh English accent makes any on-screen villain all the more evil). Alongside Stamp’s scenery-chewing, part of what makes the trio so intriguing is the innocence of their evil. The three don’t actually seem to be unaware of the immorality of their actions, with Ursa, in particular, taking great joy in her evil misdeeds (one of the many international TV cuts of Superman II does feature a scene in which Non kills a child off-screen, although I prefer this scene’s non-inclusion in the theatrical cut as it is too dark in tone with the rest of the film). Likewise, I greatly enjoy the trio’s genuine curiosity during their time on Earth, such as when Zod is genuinely baffled by Lex Luthor’s impudence (“Why do you say this to me when you know I will kill you for it?”). Much humour is devised from this 3rd Rock From the Sun-type humour such when the trio mistake Earth’s name as planet Houston, nor would any comical/semi-comical act be complete without the dumb one, as even the Kryptonian Council denounces Non for his lack of intelligence (ouch!).
As Zod, Ursa and Non have the same strength as Superman when on Earth, their characters do harken back to the original predecessor story to Superman, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s short story The Reign Of The Superman from 1933, in which an indestructible “superman” imposes tyranny on the world rather than using his powers for good. However, once Zod becomes supreme leader of Earth in Superman II, he doesn’t actually do anything. He, Ursa and Non just lounge around the Oval Office and don’t do anything while the rest of the world continues as normal. As I argued in my review of Superman: The Movie, Zod was correct to stand up to the authoritarian dystopia that was Krypton, and on Earth, he is the libertarian hero we need. I for one welcome our new Kryptonian overlords (#ZodWasRight). It is also worth noting that in the TV cut of Superman II, during the invasion of The White House, Zod takes particular umbrage at a portrait of Richard Nixon and starts frantically shooting it even though he should have no knowledge of who this man is, I guess it just rubbed him the wrong way.
Although I may put my defence of Zod on hold in favour of the film’s grand action set-piece as the son of Jor-El takes on the Kryptonian trio in a climatic fight which spawns the city of Metropolis. As combat with a villain was absent in the first film, this fight more than satisfies that desire (”Man, this is gonna be good”), with all those wonderfully kitschy special effects on display just getting better with age. The fight also includes multiple humorous uses of product placement as Superman gets thrown onto a Marlboro Cigarettes truck followed by Zod being flung into a Coca-Cola sign only a few seconds later to my great amusement. The inclusion of product placement for Marlboro Cigarettes is odd though considering early in the film there is some very subtle humour coming from Lois Lane speaking about how she is trying to stay healthy her via her intake of orange juice, all while she continues to chain smoke.
As with the first film, the scenes in The Daily Planet have that screwball comedy vibe, however, I feel the dialogue in Superman II is even wittier this time around. The recurring players in all the Christopher Reeve-era Superman films have such a great dynamic together that even in a movie as poor as Superman IV I can still enjoy their interactions. The major cast member absence of Superman II is Marlon Brando, however Susannah York as Superman/Kal-El’s mother does an effective job filling Brando’s shoes as she is commanding and stoic and like Brando, is a comforting presence in The Fortress Of Solitude. Moreover, Superman II offers further insights into the character of Lex Luthor with his desire just to be the ruler of Australia (and then later Cuba). He may be an egomaniac, but at least knows his limits; he can’t have the world but can happily make do with a continent. The TV cut of Superman II also interestingly features an interaction between Luthor and Jimmy Olson (Marc McClure), two characters that otherwise never encounter nor interact with each other at any other point in the series. I also adore how Superman refuses to look Luthor in the eye when speaking to him as he is that unamused by Luthor’s antics (probably in part since Hackman still got billed above Reeve in the opening credits). Other memorable characters from Superman II include Rocky (aka Mr Wonderful), the perfectly executed love-to-hate character, not to mention that kid from the redneck town who for some bizarre reason sounds like he’s from Victorian-era London.
The other aspect which makes Superman II so great is the romance between Lois and Clark. I was left so badly wanted to see these two get together, two down-to-earth souls who are too perfect a match for each other. Their interactions at the beginning of the film are so endearing as Lois almost mothers the clumsy and meek Clark, not to mention you can really feel the pain as Clark gets friend-zoned big time. Following Lois’ discovery that Clark is indeed Superman, Clark surrenders his powers as Superman to live as a mortal in order to be with Lois. This is followed by the two of them going all the way which I assume Clark would be unable to do as Superman as his superhuman strength would literally kill her (so am I to assume Superman gave up his powers just because he was that thirsty?). The crescendo to the Lois & Clark romance comes to ahead with easily the most emotionally powerful moment in the series, as following the restoration of Superman’s powers, the two try to comprehend continuing to professionally work together in the same vicinity despite their feelings for each other. Margot Kidder’s voice is so emotive and she has that Margaret Sullavan-like quality to her (at the film’s most intense romantic moments her tearful pleas kill me). This conflict is resolved by Clark giving Lois a memory-erasing kiss (another addition to the list of bizarre powers Superman uses once and never again alongside going back in time, repairing the Great Wall Of China with his laser eyes and the infamous cellophane S from earlier in the film). A conclusion like this could easily have come off as a cop-out but I will argue in its favour. Firstly, the manner in which he erases Lois’s mind is via the romantic gesture of a kiss is tonally consistent with the scene, and secondly, the sacrifice that is endured on the part of Clark. Lois can have her mind erased to forget the pain, but Clark is not offered that privilege, he must continue to remain stoic to carry the heartache. That said, with the status quo returned, another Superman adventure beckons, to which the beginning of the end credits to Superman II offers the viewer a tease:
Melsa Manton (Barbara Stanwyck) and her ilk of rich, bored socialites use Manhattan as their playground similarly to the wealthy socialites in My Man Godfrey, using the city for bizarre escapades such as sleuthing in the middle of the night and all while still dressing to impress at the same time in The Mad Miss Manton. Stanwyck’s enthusiasm alone is infectious and the quick-fire interactions of the girls are one of the film’s highlights (“I was never much of an individualist, if the upstairs has to be searched we search it together – why that’s communism!”). They even partake in a number of Scooby-Doo like moments, in particular actions reminiscent of the character Shaggy, i.e. making a sandwich in the kitchen when sleuthing in a trespassed apartment. The other memorable addition to the cast is the sarcastic, wisecracking Hattie McDaniel who takes no nonsense from anyone and has a comeback to everything despite her socio-economic status (“Comes a revolution and we’ll start being exploited by our help”).
Francis Mercer is real dead ringer for Gail Patrick
Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda – one true pair if there ever was one. Their chemistry makes it more believable that Peter Ames (Fonda) with his dorky bow tie would fall head over heels for this spoiled Park Avenue princess who is trying to sue him for a million dollars over an editorial. He is even driven to the point in which he casually imposes marriage on her. Henry Fonda isn’t given enough credit for his comic abilities, in particular, the scene in which he fakes his own deathbed in order to extract information from Miss Manton. In one scene Fonda is even seen holding a knife, in the same manner he would years later in 12 Angry Men.
The Mad Miss Manton was one of many films throughout the 1930’s which attempted to get a piece of that Thin Man pie. The formula of the 1934 comedy-mystery romp was an effective one and could easily be recreated with low budgets. It doesn’t matter that the mystery in The Mad Miss Manton is incomprehensible. The comedy and the atmosphere are what makes the movie, of which the picture succeeds in creating with the high contrast, film noir-like lighting during the sleuthing sequences (especially with the sequence in the subway) even though the film is visibly a low budget production.
Teacher’s Pet showcases that even by the late 1950s, Clark Gable still had a gift for comedy. His timing, facial gestures and body movements are all spot on (likewise the cartoon drawing of Gable in the opening credits is the spitting image of Gomez Adams). It’s clear by this stage in his life Hollywood had gotten the better of him and he wasn’t the sex symbol he once was but the animal magnetism is still there (despite what appears to have a missing tooth or a large gap between his teeth). Teacher’s Pet is one of the few worthwhile endeavors of Gable’s later days in which he plays working-class hero Jim Gannon; editor for a large city newspaper. Gannon is a man who never went to high school and has a dislike of colleges (says he can’t even stand the smell of chalk) and a distrust of intellectuals. Gannon believes the only way to be trained for the world of journalism is through practical, hands-on experience and not in the classroom.
In the late 1950s, the majority of American newspapers still employed old school journalists and editors. However, a new post-war idea sprang up to help professionalize the news industry (among other fields) by requiring would-be journalists to get a university diploma in order to get hired as a news reporter; a field which had been traditionally more working class. This conflict between these differing world views is at the heart of Teacher’s Pet in which Gannon pretends to be a newcomer to the profession in the journalism class of Dr. Erica Stone (Doris Day).
Stone is a representation of what we would now identify as the typical university-educated liberal with her butch haircut and concern for social issues (“Was it because he’s the member of a minority group, struggling to solve the complex problem of assimilation? Did society at large create the climate for this tragedy?). She doesn’t look highly upon Gannon’s breed of journalist, describing them as the “unpressed gentlemen of the press”, and a dying race. Teacher’s Pet certainly saw the writing on the wall, as today journalism is seen as a profession of the university-educated class. It appears the movie is going to take a corny best of both world’s view for its conclusion until Jim decides at the end that he can’t change his perspective.
Part of what makes Teacher’s Pet entertaining is Jim’s epic, what we would refer to in the early 21st century as trolling in which Jim pretends to be a journalism newcomer to show Dr. Stone and her class to show “what a phony-baloney the whole thing is” (and yes this guy must have a lot of free time outside of work). He acts a pathetic nuisance to the class, only to then write an article to Dr. Stone’s amazement which includes the key ingredients of any news story; who, what, where, when and why?
The cast of Teacher’s Pet also includes Mamie Van Doran as a second rate Marilyn Monroe. She primarily starred in juvenile delinquency B movies in the late 1950s and even sings a number in Teacher’s Pet which reflects this. Likewise, the always memorable Charles Lane plays a member of Jim’s staff roll at the paper, portraying less of a sourpuss this time round. Many viewers appear to comment that Gable is too old to be a journalism prodigy, however, I believe his old age is central to the character; just like how Gannon represents a different age of journalism, Gable represents a different age of Hollywood to that of Doris Day. The first half of Teacher’s Pet moves along at a brisk pace, although I find the film’s second half doesn’t flow quite as good, particularly when it pulls the dreaded lair revealed cliché. It slows down proceedings, leaving Teacher’s Pet a good if not quite great comic outing, but a prophetic one at that.
The Kind of Woman Who Makes Entire Civilisations Topple
Ball of Fire is the more grown up, risqué version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs; even during the opening scene the film’s cast of professors are seen walking in tandem through Central Park like the seven dwarfs as they adhere to a strict daily seclude in an attempt to compile an encyclopaedia of all human knowledge. The film plays off the public perception of bureaucrats, bankers, librarians and people in other such mundane professions. Are they such sheltered, socially awkward individuals who are in bed at 9 every night and have likely never been in a relationship? The recurring Howard Hawks’ theme of male bonding is ever present in Ball of Fire, although here it is all the more goofy with a cast of characters playing nerds. Regardless there still remains one very poignant scene in which Professor Oddly (the only bachelor of the group) recounts about his past wife and the men start singing.
There are few other character entrances in film more entertaining than that of Barbara Stanwyck as Sugarpuss O’Shea (a not so innocent name by today’s standard) as she enters the picture singing and dancing with Gene Krupa and his orchestra – could the character’s fast-living personality be summed up in a more entertaining manner? Likewise, that dress! No wonder Edith Head had decades working in the industry. Notice it’s nonstop sparkling every moment it’s on screen, making Stanwyck look all the more tantalising. Almost all the outfits worn by Stanwyck in Ball of Fire are clearly designed to make her look as sexually appealing as possible. When Professor “Potsy” Potts (Gary Cooper) and Sugarpuss are alone, the sexual sparks fly and when she holds up a leg she gives a group of socially awkward, sheltered middle-aged to old men a sexual awakening. It’s all the more poignant that the man she seduces is played a Gary Cooper; a contrast to his boy scouty screen image. Here Cooper is a nerd, and while he did play tough guys on screen, he will always be that boy next door. Ball of Fire is full of lines and moments which wouldn’t feel out of place in a film made before the production code. At the beginning of the film, we even see Professor Potts arousing the funder of the encyclopaedia project by merely talking to her in an attempt to convince her to keep the project running.
Ball of Fire is worth watching multiple times for all the lines you can easily miss out on. For example, when a garbage man (Allen Jenkins) comes into the house to ask the men for assistance on radio quiz, one of the questions regards the correct way to state a mathematical problem: “2 and 2 is 5, 2 and 2 are 5, 2 or 2 makes 5”. Cooper states the correct answer is “2 and 2 are 5” however the mathematician of the group then states “2 and 2 are 4” followed by the garbage man responding, “that’s a good one, nobody’s gonna get that”. Am I detecting a sneaky Orwellian statement pre-1984?
Does communism have a moral equivalency to Nazism? Conservatives have long complained of a double stand for Nazi and communist crimes. Nazism is based on heinous sounding ideas; communism is based on nice sounding ideas. However, that makes communism and left-wing radicalism more appealing to people of good intentions and perhaps that makes communism more dangerous and an evil in disguise. I’m undecided on this question myself but regardless of which ideology is worse, there is one thing I’m certain about: communism sucks and the fact that it has nowhere near the reputation of Nazism is disturbing. This is an ideology which was responsible for the deaths of 100 million in the 20th century yet I am able to buy t-shirts featuring its dictators in pop culture stores.
The 1939 Ernst Lubitish directed and Billy Wilder penned comedy Ninotchka is reflective of this lack of moral equivalency between Nazism and communism despite the film clearly being anti-communist (apparently the film was responsible for communists losing an Italian election in 1947). The scenes in Ninotchka which take place in Russia are grim. The complete censorship of information, the regimented support of the regime, the asphyxiating and claustrophobic living conditions, rationed food, fear of spying neighbours and the overall lack of personal freedoms. Yet despite critique such as this which the film levels against communism, Ninotchka does not present communism as the utterly monstrous belief system that Hollywood suggested Nazism was. When I first watched Ninothcka as a politically lay viewer that’s the impression I got – “communism isn’t great but Nazism is worse”. That’s not to say Ninotchka would be so much better a film if it went the full throttle and showed us the gulags and mass starvation but would a film like Ninotchka transposed to Nazi Germany ever get made with the same comic and tonal approach, one which doesn’t go the full throttle by mentioning concentration camps and persecution of Jews and other minorities. Would it even be morally appropriate to do so? – Food for thought.
One of the ways in which Ninotchka jabs at the Soviets is through the Russian characters skewered thinking. In the opening scene the three comrades on a mission in Paris attempt to justify choosing an expensive hotel over a cheap one because apparently, it’s what Lenin would have wanted and refusing to simply admit they really just want the royal suite (“but who said we had to have an idea”). In another scene in the film, Ninotchka explains why Soviet Russia is “peddling our precious possessions to the world at this time”. She goes onto say, “Our next year’s crop is in danger, and you know it. Unless we can get foreign currency to buy tractors, there’ll not be enough bread for our people and you comrades.” As if tractors could overcome a drought and famine. Likewise, there is Leon’s (Melvyn Douglas) statement in regards to Russia, “I’ve been interested in your five-year plan for the last 15 years”.
I do find much of the Ninotchka’s first 18 minutes prior to the introduction of Garbo to be a bit flat even with some humorous scenes in which the three comrades are being seduced by capitalistic decadence and start fawning over Leon. The setting up of the background behind the jewels as a plot device and the scenes between Melvyn Douglas and Ina Claire are not terribly interesting. Once Garbo appears, however, the film is on fire.
Greta Garbo is not one of my favourite actresses but I totally understand the appeal. Nina Ivanovna “Ninotchka” Yakushova Envoy Extraordinaire is one badass. She claims to have been a sergeant in Third Cavalry Brigade and she is certainly one with the ability to convince the uninitiated to communist ideals. Lines such as “I have heard of the arrogant male in capitalistic society” and “That’s no business, that’s social injustice” don’t sound too different from talking points by modern lefties. Ninotchka is driven by facts and statistics in comparison to Leon who is more driven by emotion (although I guess the fact of communism’s failure is one for her to ignore). The Soviet State as represented by the figure of Ninotchka is genuinely concerned with the great mass of its people but it is so interested in their statistical well being that is has forgotten their emotional needs and has become cold, oppressive and inhuman. Garbo’s cold emotionless voice and her stone face are fully utilised in a faultless deadpan, comic performance. However, when she finally laughs for the first time and unleashes her endearing side, it feels so genuine and uplifting. At the heart of romance in Ninotchka is that of love triumphing over opposing ideologies.
Ninotchka’s communist ideology does rub off on Leon as he becomes somewhat of a campaign socialist and humorously turns to violence in order to track down Ninotchka later in the film. As good as Melvyn Douglas is in the role of Leon, I can’t help but wish William Powell could have performed the role as no one does suave cynicism like Powell. Regardless Douglas does deliver one of my all-time favourite set of movie lines in which he tells Ninotchka to just smile “At the whole ridiculous spectacle of life, at people being so serious”; I like to remind myself of this whenever I feel frustrated at the state of the world we live in.
One of the most interesting scenes in the film involves Leon’s butler Gaston (Richard Carle) telling his master about his concern regarding Ninotchka’s (or simply the Bolshevik Lady) influence over him; Gaston as much as refuses to dust Leon’s copy of Karl Marx’s Capital as it is a socialistic volume. Gaston also mentions how Leon has not paid him two months in the movie suggesting that capitalism isn’t perfect; however, Gaston finds the prospect of sharing belongings with Leon and being on an equal footing as him to be terrifying. By the end of the film, neither Ninotchka nor Leon directly renounces communism but I doubt they will be returning to Russia any time soon.
As a political junkie its fun to watch films like The Talk of the Town and dissect their deeper political and philosophical meaning which in this case is intertwined within a screwball farce that effortlessly transitions between wacky comedy and serious drama. The movie centres on a fantastic triangle of characters played by Jean Arthur, Cary Grant and Ronald Coleman with the real meat of the film being the relationship between Leopold Dilg (Grant) and Professor Michael Lightcap (Coleman) while Miss Nora Shelley (Jean Arthur) tries to keep this unlikely family of three in one piece.
Leopold Dilg is one of the more interesting characters Cary Grant ever played, a radical activist and one role in which we see him dressed just like a commoner. However, he is one handsome activist at that rather than some hair dyed SJW (that man can make any clothes look dapper). If it weren’t for the production code then the character of Dilg would certainly be labeled as a communist. The movie is full of clues pointing to this (educated young working-class intellectual, opposes capitalist corruption, belief that violence is sometimes necessary, his father’s resentment for work, even his fondness for borscht). The production code would not have allowed a possible communist to be a sympathetic character or a hero thus the word “communist” or related term is never mentioned. On the other hand, Dilg is shown to have much respect for the Supreme Court so is he really a communist or just a leftie? With Dilg we even get an insight into why one might be an activist; as he puts it, activism is a form of self-expression – “Some people write books, some music. I make speeches on street corners.” Dilg would have felt right at home in the age of the internet (“When I hear a man talk nonsense I always get an impulse”).
Ronald Coleman, one of Hollywood’s most charming English gents is Professor Lightcap. Dilg and Lightcap are two intellectuals but from different worlds in this clash of the classes yet they find common ground in their interest in the political and philosophical; their conversations and so much fun to listen and make the film worth watching again as they’re a lot to take in. Dilg views Lightcap as “an intelligent man, but cold” with “no blood in his thinking” and thus doesn’t desire to see him take a seat in the Supreme Court with his current mentality. By the end of the film, both Dilg and Lightcap change their philosophies on law. Dilg comes around the see the need for law and order while Lightcap begins to see that the law is not sterile. During the film’s final monologue Lightcap speaks to an angry mob at a courthouse on the importance of law:
“This is your law and your finest possession. It makes you free. Why have you come to destroy it? Think of a world crying for this law. Then they’ll understand why they ought to guard it and why the law should be the concern of every citizen, to uphold it for your neighbour as well as yourself. Violence against it is one mistake; another mistake is to look upon the law as just asset of principles. Just so much language printed on heavy paper. Something he recites and then takes it for granted that justice is being done. Both kinds of men are equally wrong. The law must be practiced every minute, to the letter and the spirit. It can’t exist unless we fight a battle every day to preserve it.”
I’m not sure what message to take from The Talk of the Town. On the one hand, it showcases the importance of upholding a lawful and just society (which would have resonated with the war against fascism in Europe) and the dangers of mob mentality. On the other hand earlier in the film Lightcap spoke of how “If feelings had any influence on the law, half the country would be in jail” and “you conduct your law on random sentimentality and you will have violence and disorder” only to later soften these views as evident by his final monologue. These statements sound just like a description of the PC politics of the 21st century; facts don’t care about your feelings. Just how far will the professor go with this change of heart? Still, at the end of the day, it is thought-provoking stuff.
The character of Tilney (Rex Ingram) is one of the better, more dignified portrayals of an African American as Professor Lightcap’s servant of whom he considers Tilney’s judgment to be superior to his own. In one of the more unusual but emotionally powerful scenes in the movie, Tilney sheds a tear in an extreme and long close up at the sight of his master shaving his beard; a black actor having a long close up with real emotion behind it. The scene plays the emotions up to 11 as Tilney realises his friend and employer is undergoing a profound change as he shaves his beard as a metaphor for casting off old ways.
The beginning of The Talk of the Town is incredibly different from the rest of the film, setting it up as a horror/thriller with its moody, melodramatic music and making Dilg out to be a sinister, threatening character. If you went into the film completely blind you would be shocked as it gradually morphs into a comedy as the lighting and shadows become less dim, the music becomes more cheery and starts to take on a pleasant New England, small-town feel. Likewise, listen out for a piece of music heard throughout the film including at the end which sounds just like Yoda’s theme from The Empire Strikes Back.
Director Peter Bogdanovich knows his classic Hollywood with his films being a mixture of new Hollywood meets old Hollywood. What’s Up Doc shows it was still possible to make a screwball comedy even in a contemporary 70’s setting with actors nowhere near as glamorous or good looking as the stars of the golden age. Regardless, the energy, the chemistry and the feeling of classic screwball comedy is present in this Bringing Up Baby inspired farce. Like in Bringing Up Baby a stuffy gentleman is harassed by a woman who has a defiance against the natural order of things and simply won’t get out of his life despite his best efforts. Plus I would love to see someone create a diagram explaining the journeys of the four plaid suitcases featured in the movie.
What’s Up Doc was the first film I saw Barbra Streisand in and this is possibly the shallowest thing I’ll ever say in a review but for the longest time, I avoided watching any film of hers because of how unattractive she looks. Yet when watching her I was pleased to discover she has enough on-screen charisma and likeability that when watching her in action I’m not bothered by that, how do I put it nicely, not so attractive facial features of hers.
Streisand and Ryan O’Neal manage to cross the fine line that they remind you of Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn in Bringing Up Baby but they aren’t imitating them as they bring their own something to the roles. Streisand as Judy Maxwell is the one member of the cast who can talk at the machine gun rate of classic screwball actors plus something about her personality really projects a Carole Lombard dynamic. Ryan O’Neal as the musicologist Howard Bannister, on the other hand, is far nerdier and emasculated than Cary Grant ever was in Bringing Up Baby. The terms he throws around such as Pre-Palaeozoic Tambulu rocks are all legit terms unlike the fictional “intercostal clavicle” from Bringing Up Baby. Likewise, the time period allows for more racy content, I don’t think 1930’s censors would have allowed for a shirtless Cary Grant wearing a bow tie.
Close to stealing the show however among the cast of live-action cartoon characters is Madeline Kahn as the comedic greatness that is Eunice Burns. As Bogdanovich himself states, Kahn was someone who was funny without being aware of it. Her comic voice can make even the most mundane of lines amusing not to mention does there exist a more comically drab name than Eunice? Above all has there ever existed any romantic attraction between Eunice and her fiancée Howard? What if anything do these two see in each other? The scene however which makes me laugh the most is the sequence in which Howard must hide Judy in his hotel room from an always angry Eunice which leads to the eventual destruction of the hotel room. It’s the most classic, straightforward, slapstick 101 set up and I don’t think I’ve seen it executed as perfectly as it is here.
Few other films take more advantage of their location than San Francisco in What’s Up Doc? It’s not hard to see why it’s a filmmaking favourite as seen in films such as Vertigo or Bullet. The filmmakers definitely enunciate those San Francisco hills with characters struggling to get up them as well as taking full advantage of the city to deliver one of the greatest car chases in film history. The most important requisite for a great car chase or action sequence in general which most modern films don’t understand is that it’s largely about feeling the weight and physicality on screen along with every beautiful sound effect of car tyres screeching and engines revving (here you can actually see the damage caused to public steps in San Francisco). Everything you see on screen is real, making it all the more thrilling knowing that stuntmen are in actual danger. On top of being an edge of your seat spectacle, I rank it the second funniest action sequence ever committed to film (the final car chase in The Blues Brothers still ranks supreme for me). It has the cartoon clichés you would expect brought into live action including men carrying a glass plane across a road as well as the chases going through a Chinatown parade. The chase even goes through Lombard Street, the so-called most crooked street in the world, and seeing multiple cars drive through it in pursuit of each other is a very humorous sight.
It’s Love I’m After draws many parallels to the earlier screwball comedy Twentieth Century (1934) with Leslie’s Howard’s Basil Underwood drawing a number of similarities John Barrymore’s Oscar Jaffe. Basil Underwood is an egomaniacal actor who is as big a ham off stage as he is on. Like Barrymore in Twentieth Century, he can never describe something in a conventional matter but rather has to do it poetically with his constant references to Shakespeare, with Howard’s English accent making him sound all the more pretentious. He’s clearly a man of the theatre to the point that he doesn’t even know who Clark Gable is (yes they actually mention an MGM star in a Warner Bros movie when studios were keen to usually only promote their own contract players). Likewise, his sparing with Bette Davis as his bride to be Joyce Arden is similar to the screaming and shouting between John Barrymore and Carole Lombard in Twentieth Century, yet in a movie with Bette Davis Howard is still the bigger drama queen.
Although Basil is engaged to marry Joyce despite the two hating each other one minute and then are in a loving embrace the next, the real unforgettable dynamic is between Howard and Eric Blore. It’s implied throughout the film that Basil and the effeminate Diggs are gay lovers through much gay subtext (“Do we know anyone called Marsha West Diggs?”, “Not unless you’ve been cheating on me, sir”). This occurs even though Basil is set to marry Joyce, thus is Joyce even aware of this and are they involved in a three-way relationship or is Basil cheating on Joyce with Diggs? Why does Basil even need Joyce if he has the perfect partner in Diggs? Either way, the dynamic between the entire cast of It’s Love I’m After is effortless.
Olivia de Havilland’s Marcia West is an early example of what we would now call fanboyism, having a fanatical love for Basil Underwood. Yet despite her bursts of hyperactivity and her ditzy manner, she does have a smarter side to her. She does cleverly get her way into Underwood’s dressing room at the theatre and even has the common sense to just talk to him about her feelings towards him then run off again and not to continue bothering him. It’s only when Basil deliberately turns up to her house does he feel the full wrath of her fanaticism.
Also contributing to the movie’s over the top histrionics is Bonita Granvillie as the chatterbox Gracie. I actually find her character quite disturbing with her spying through keyholes on other people’s business only to then tell the rest of the family about her discoveries. She reminded me the little girl who from These Three and its remake The Children’s Hour who ruined people’s lives with deceitful spying and her big mouth. Thus it came as no surprise when I learned she was the actress who played the little girl in These Three!
The cinematography of It’s Love I’m After is also a thing beauty, a perfect showcase the distinctive Warner Bros aesthetic of the 30’s and 40’s; particularly the lighting the of the dark theatre at the beginning of the film and those spellbinding close-ups of Miss de Havilland. During the beginning of the film, Basil and Joyce are playing Romeo & Juliet on stage. Howard had played Romeo the year before in MGM’s production of Romeo & Juliet which along with Warner’s A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream in 1935, had failed to garner much interest from filmgoers. I get the impression It’s Love I’m After reflects this when Spring Byington falls asleep to the production of Romeo & Juliet only to be waken and utters “Isn’t it so wonderful, Shakespeare is so elevating”.
The Coen Brothers are hit and miss with me (I tend to have a preference more towards their comedy then their drama) but The Hudsucker Proxy is by far my favourite movie of theirs, a film which feels like it was tailor made for me. The Hudsucker Proxy takes place in its own unique universe; the acting style in the film is reminiscent of the 1930’s yet the film is set in the 1950’s. Likewise there appears to be a clash of fashion; the outfits are from the 30’s yet the cars or the beatnik coffee house which Norvillie visits are unmistakably 1950’s but I like this combination of two eras, two distinct time periods of Hollywood’s golden age wrapped into one. The Hudsucker Proxy is a movie with so many layers and homage’s to other movies (Sweet Smell of Success, Metropolis, The Apartment, The Producers, various Frank Capra movies); I’m sure with future viewings I will unlock even more secrets the movies holds.
The Hudsucker Proxy is a love letter to anyone who loves the aesthetic of classic Hollywood movies with set designs to die for such as Paul Newman’s office, an art deco fantasy land; yet the movie even injects some Terry Gilliam-esque cinematography with the scene in the mail room feeling like the world from 1985’s Brazil. Likewise this is a movie of drawn out colours, mostly greys in what I feel is an attempt to emulate the appearance of black & white.
What happened to Tim Robbins? He was on such a hot streak of films during the first half of the 90’s, just after this he was in The Shawshank Redemption (one of the best two film streaks ever?); since then, not so much. The character of Norvillie Barnes is a Preston Sturges hero trapped in a Frank Capra story; although due to Robbin’s resemblance to a young Orson Welles the character comes off to me as someone who has the look of Welles but has the personality of Gary Cooper; a young entrepreneurial go getter with a wide eyed innocence who is not fully in tune with reality, or at least hasn’t been subjected to it yet. When he first arrives in New York and tries looking for a job, the word “experience” is plastered all over the frame, oh the reliability.
Jennifer Jason Leigh is a revelation here; channelling Rosalind Russell, yet I can still detect elements of Katharine Hepburn, Barbara Stanywck and Jean Arthur in there. The coordination of her gestures is perfect and I’m also fascinated by her character dynamic in which she becomes insecure about her femininity or lack therefore off at Norville’s comments of her trying to be one of the boys. Although it’s never resolved, this still gives her character another layer of depth. Paul Newman on the other hand rarely ventured into comedy but he pulls of the cigar chomping, “you’re fired!” type boss with ease.
The film’s combination of numerous elements from various genres is also carried over in its humour, from dry jokes to more overt, fast talking screwball antics. The gag with the circle drawn on the piece of paper followed by the uttering of “you know, for kids!” never gets old, even if the movie’s poster somewhat spoils the joke. While the sequence detailing the creation and distribution of the Hula Hoop, I don’t think I could you ask for a better fast paced quirky montage. Likewise the (almost literal) Deus Ex Machina ending could have easily come off as a copout but I feel is rescued from being so from the plot element of the blue letter; I completely forgot that even existed until the angel of Warren Hudsucker reminds a suicidal Norville about it; now that’s a sign of an engaging film.
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Sat In Your Lap 