When A Stranger Calls

(1979)

"Every babysitter's nightmare becomes real..."

"When A Stranger Calls" came out the year after the original "Halloween", and although it is not as widely acclaimed or known, it's just as scary, if not scarier, in a much more subtle manner.

The film starts off with Jill (Carol Kane), a young babysitter minding two small children for the evening, the children having already been put to bed for the night by the parents before they leave. She begins to receive anonymous, frightening phone calls with the caller ominously asking, "Have you checked the children?" and "Why haven't you checked the children?" then hanging up. Scared, she calls the police, who at first tell her to calm down, then instruct her to try to keep the caller on the line if he calls again, so the call can be traced. When she obliges and they trace the call, the real terror starts. I remember when I first saw this film, and my reaction to this revelation was unparalleled by any film I had seen at that time.

I am trying not to give away too much - if you haven't seen this film, be careful of other online reviews; I came across several that were real spoilers, and without any forewarning.

The first part of "When A Stranger Calls" is very fast-paced, then the middle part takes the audience seven years ahead; Jill is now a married mother. The film slows and becomes more of a psychological study; the criminal from the beginning sequence has escaped from the asylum. Along his wanderings he comes across Tracy (Colleen Dewhurst), a tough barfly he fixates upon. John Clifford (Charles Durning), who was the police detective investigating the original case, re-enters the scenario to try to track down the escaped madman, Curt Duncan (Tony Beckley).

This part of the movie is slower but much more interesting, in my opinion, and shows how scary a film can be without any real gore factor. Tony Beckley (in his last role) is very convincing as a murderous madman; his careful and understated portrayal make the character Curt Duncan even more terrifying. Colleen Dewhurst's performance as Tracy helps this part of the film move very well (she was always an extremely good actress) and she makes Tracy's toughness, vulnerability, and smarts very believable. Charles Durning as Detective Clifford is a typical part for him, and he handles it well, with his usual street-savvy tough-guy exterior aplomb.

The direction by Fred Walton, and the subtle, creepy soundtrack help push this film beyond the realm of being just another standard 1970's scream-inducing shock flick.

The Manchurian Candidate (1962 & 2004)

(1962, 2004)

"Why don't you pass the time by playing a little solitaire?"

This is a review and comparison of the 1962 and 2004 film versions of "The Manchurian Candidate".



The 1962 film features Frank Sinatra as Cpt. Bennett Marco, Laurence Harvey as Sgt. Raymond Shaw, and Angela Lansbury as Mrs. Iselin, in the three lead roles.

The 1962 version: "The Manchurian Candidate" is based upon the 1959 book by Richard Condon, which was an immediate success. The film, however, was a flop at the time it was released, and after the assassination of John F. Kennedy the following year, was withheld from the public until the late 1980's by Frank Sinatra, who had purchased the rights to it.

The story in brief: Raymond Shaw is an ex-prisoner of war (and Congressional Medal of Honor recipient) who, as it turns out, was brainwashed with the rest of his infantrymen while captured in North Korea. He, however, has been programmed to kill, unlike the rest, who were merely made to believe (and recount, when queried) that "Raymond Shaw is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I've ever known in my life", who saved their lives. After two years back home, though, Cpt. Marco and some of the others have started having nightmares in which glimpses of the truth come through. Cpt. Marco cannot reconcile the dreams with what he feels in his heart, and starts to search for the truth.

The brainwashing sequences are chilling, using as one technique 360-degree camera rotations to pan the room in a circle, as one long shot, to show what at first seems to be a garden party of elderly ladies talking about "Fun With Hydrangeas" (with the soldiers inexplicably on the podium as guests), until the camera rotates back around...and the elderly ladies have become an assortment of Russians and Chinese officials. This scene in itself involved quite a lot of filming, as the same shots and angles had to be used for many of the juxtapositions of the characters.

Angela Lansbury is Mrs. Iselin, married to Raymond's stepfather (obviously a characterization of the real-life Senator McCarthy). The plan is for Raymond to assassinate the presidential nominee at a certain pivotal moment, so that Senator Iselin can further his career and the advance of the Communist Party infiltration into the US government. This is also with the help and control of his manipulative, controlling wife. Angela Lansbury was masterful in her role as one of the greatest female villains in the history of film. In real life she was only a couple of years older than Laurence Harvey, yet she plays his mother in the film. She is completely believable, however, and without the use of any aging makeup. Frank Sinatra, known for insisting on only doing one take because he believed in spontaneity, gives what is possibly his finest film performace. Laurence Harvey brings a great deal of complexity to the part of Shaw, making the character of Raymond Shaw sympathetic and warm in addition to his mostly cold persona.

Harvey's performance is what ultimately makes Shaw's character, and the film, succeed, in my opinion. Shaw's love interest Jocelyn (played by Leslie Parrish) helps flesh out his portrayal of Raymond, as we get to really see what he could have been had he been able to live on with Jocelyn and the warmth with which he was welcomed into her family. The rounding out of his character adds a great deal to the tragedy and horror of his murdering her, and her father, while he is under control of the brainwashing. In the original film, I am always struck by how Laurence Harvey steps over her body on the floor, on his way out, and he starts to walk as if his knees are buckling...and then on the way out you see tears streaming down his face. He's still in brainwash-mode, but something's coming through; Harvey's performance was absolutely great in this movie; he is alternately chilly, condescending, terrifying, warm, boyish, and "loveable". But he ultimately commands sympathy and empathy...a beautiful performance that never fails to move me upon each re-viewing of this mesmerizing film.

The only complaint of characters I have is of Rosie (Janet Leigh), who seems completely unnecessary, but in those days it was often common to have a love interest for the protagonist, whether or not her presence furthered the story at all. But whereas the character of Jocelyn is completely needed for Shaw, Rosie seems rather arbitrary.

I have the Special Edition DVD release of the original; I definately won't be buying the remake.

The 2004 version/comparison of the two films: I rented and watched the remake recently, out of curiousity, in addition to an attempt on my part to be open-minded (for once, lol) about a remake of a classic. Well, once again I was disappointed with a modern remake of an old Hollywood classic. And to compare them makes the remake look even worse.

For instance, the first five minutes of the 2004 version look like a VH1 ad, of course. Viacom = Paramount = VH1.

The characters aren't developed enough to make the audience particularly care about them; especially Liev Shreiber as Raymond Shaw. In the original, there was a lot of background on Shaw's relationship with Jocelyn, and you actually developed sympathy for him; but mainly, Laurence Harvey was an outstanding actor. The heartfelt love between Raymond and Jocelyn was expanded upon much more, in addition to the warmth Raymond shared with her father, Senator Jordan. As a reseult, the girl's and her father's murders in the 1962 version was much more horrifying. In the remake, there's no underlying emotion when he kills them. As a result, we, as the audience, really don't care.

"Why don't you pass the time by playing a little Solitaire?" to trigger the brainwashing "spells" is a lot creepier and more ominous (especially as it would come at inopportune times, in the original, such as when Shaw would be sitting in a bar) than the person's name just being repeated, in full, to incite the brainwashing. Also, in the remake, they saw fit to have some kind of silly pale "aura" every time the influence of the brainwashing came to the surface. In the original, Harvey would get a really peaceful expression on his face, and that was enough, and it was much creepier. Uhm, you know, as in acting to create the feeling? Remember acting, instead of just special effects? Liev Shreiber tries his best to emulate Laurence Harvey in the original; it's apparent that he studied the 1962 version. But trying to mimic another actor's performance usually isn't a good technique, and this is no exception. Whereas Harvey was able to be sympathetic and expressive, in addition to being cold, Shreiber is just plain cold. He's just not a good enough actor; at the very least, he's not in Laurence Harvey's league. His characterization makes Shaw completely uninteresting and stiff, and a lot of what made the original film work so well is the overwhelming empathy the audience cannot help but have for Shaw.

Sinatra's performance was much better, and much more sympathetic, than Denzel Washington's. Denzel Washington mostly just clenched his jaw, and I usually like his performances.

Also, in the original, it seems more believable that Rosie would let a strange man into her apartment, in those days. Sinatra's character comes across as actually ill, and in need of sympathy, instead of just crazy. In the remake, Rosie basically just comes on to Captain Marco when he's on the train. Sure, invite him on over, girl! It was obvious right then and there that she was in on it somehow, in the remake.

Meryl Streep as Mrs. Iselin in the 2004 version seems to be re-running her same exact mannerisms and characterizations as for her role in "Death Becomes Her", and just only slightly toned down. It seems evident that she drew on her own past performance in another movie, and a comedy no less, for this.

In the scene where she gets ready to kiss Shaw on the mouth, I wondered, "In the original, she kissed him, what's she going to do in this one?" Well, she just kisses him, thankfully, but the camera cuts away right as the kiss starts. In the original, Lansbury's character kisses Shaw full on the mouth, which of course makes your skin crawl, even in black and white, and even though Lansbury had her hand over their mouths, it was obvious she was full-on kissing him. In the remake they brushed over it and really avoided the intensity that scene had in the original. And the level of evil and menace Lansbury brought to the role isn't even touched by Streep's over-the-top perfomance.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it, as the saying goes. Forget the remake. See the original if you haven't already done so, and add it to your collection.

A Place in the Sun

(1951)

"A Place in the Sun" tells the story of George Eastman, a poor relation who goes to work in his rich uncle's factory. He starts at the bottom level, working the production line, and gets involved romantically and sexually with co-worker Alice Tripp, all the while yearning for the unattainable - the gorgeous Angela Vickers. However, by the time he is able to finally be with Angela, his relationship with Alice interferes with his plans.

The film is based on the novel "An American Tragedy", written by Theodore Dreiser in 1925. Elizabeth Taylor, who was only 17 at the time, was cast as Angela Vickers, the beautiful and rich love interest of George Eastman (Montgomery Clift). Shelley Winters is Alice Tripp, the woman who becomes a burden to Eastman; an obstacle to his love for Angela and her way of life. Stevens was reticent at first to cast Winters in the dowdy role; at the time she was known for portraying glamorous types or sexpots. She convinced Stevens to cast her by showing up in his office for her appointment with him dressed for the part, including a mousy hair color, rather than her usual platinum blonde, sitting silently when he came out and didn't recognize her for several minutes as he glanced around his outer office at the actresses waiting to see him.

Raymond Burr, best known for his TV role as Perry Mason, plays a Perry Mason of sorts in the film: the prosecuting attorney, Frank Marlowe.

This was the first of three films that Taylor and Clift made together; and they became instant friends upon meeting for the first time for the making of "A Place in the Sun". The chemistry between the two is evident, although Clift was homosexual in real life. They remained close friends until his death in 1966, at age 45, from a heart attack. Taylor has remarked that her first kiss with Clift in the film was the second time she had ever been actually kissed - the first time was two weeks before filming started.

Director Stevens decided to take the story and set it in post-war times instead of in the 1920's, when the novel takes place, to take the atmosphere of wartime out of the feel of the story. The lushly filmed lake scenes have the look of an Ansel Adams photograph - color would have been superfluous. The masterful use of shadows is evident throughout, and Stevens' several excruciatingly tight closeups of Taylor and Clift together serve to highlight her beauty and the chemistry between the two lead actors, heightening the sense of danger and romance.

"A Place in the Sun" was nominated for nine Academy Awards, winning six, including Best Director for George Stevens. It's a gripping, beautiful film, albeit a highly romanticized Hollywood version of the true story.

Dreiser's novel was based on an actual murder case of 1906 - the case of Chester Gillette. Below is a link to a story about it:

Crime Library - The Chester Gillette Case

Belle de Jour

(1967)

"Belle de Jour" is generally considered to be director Luis Bunuel's masterpiece; a surprisingly revealing and seemingly personal venture into the world of eroticism and its deviances. It's a truly surrealistic exercise in ambiguity, fantasy, and reality. The line that separates them is blurred so much that the famously mysterious ending has had critics arguing for decades over its meaning.

The gorgeous Catherine Deneuve, resplendent in her icy prime, portrays Severine Sevigny, the middle-class wife of Pierre, a doctor. She is frigid, virginal, yet seemingly happy enough in her bourgeoisie life and its trappings. However, upon hearing about a local clandestine brothel from a friend, she pays a visit to the madame, and becomes a prostitute, going by the name of "Belle de Jour", as she can only work in the afternoons. She apparently fully realizes and enjoys her sexuality, despite her guilty conscience, exclaiming that she "can't help it".

She certainly doesn't need the money. She's bored with her life and her marriage, needing a "firm hand" to lead her; a need which the madame, Anais, who is obviously attracted to her, almost immediately recognizes. Her sweet and conventional husband is unaware, treating her much like a child, and the audience cannot help but believe that even if he knew of her true nature, he would not understand or empathize. She keeps her two worlds neatly separate until a patron of hers (whom she herself enjoys) becomes obsessed with her, and all is threatened.

The fantasy sequences are usually signalled by the sound of carriage bells, but by the end of the film the viewer is no longer able to differentiate between what is another one of Severine's fantasies and what is reality. Even Bunuel admitted to not knowing himself. He said that "by the end, the real and imaginary fuse; for me they form the same thing."

That Alfred Hithcock in particular admired this film comes as no surprise; Deneuve would have been the perfect Hitchcock heroine: an icy blonde who becomes "a whore in the bedroom", as Hitchock was fond of saying he preferred in his leading ladies. But this remark is not meant to simplify the story, its telling, or Deneuve's remarkable performance, which is what truly draws the viewer into the film.

"Belle de Jour" was Bunuel's first foray into the use of color, and he employed it to great effect. From the fall colors displayed in the landscape scenes, to the subtle shades in Deneuve's clothing, the contrasts are set. While the world around her explodes in glorious hues, Deneuve's character is defined by her couture, if staid, wardrobe of tan, black, and white.

"Belle de Jour" was unreleased for many years due to copyright problems, but finally re-released in 1995 through the efforts of director Martin Scorcese, and released on DVD in 2003. I've watched it twice in the past week and am still at a loss to describe it very well; suffice to say that I am in awe. It's an amazingly erotic film without any explicitness, and one that I expect hasn't lost any of its effect over the years. As the subject matter is handled very tactfully and without any actual sex scenes; a great deal is left to the viewer's imagination - which only serves the heighten the mysteries inherent at every turn in the film. The viewer is however drawn into the sense of feeling to be a voyeur into Severine's secret life; the careful choreography of scenes and camera angles contribute to the uncomfortable sense of intrusion by us, the viewers.

There are many sub-stories and small mysteries in the film; for instance one of the most widely debated upon by critics is the mystery of "what is in the Asian client's little box?" that he presents first to one prostitute, who quickly refuses, then to Severine, who tentatively agrees. All the audience know is that it's something with a insect-like noise, and when the client leaves, Severine is sprawled face-down upon the bed, the sheets thrown about, and obviously pleased with whatever took place in the interim.

"Belle de Jour" was awarded the Golden Lion at the 1967 Venice Film Festival, as well as the award for Best Foreign Film in 1968 from the New York Film Critics Circle.

Interesting side notes: Bunuel himself had a shoe fetish, which helps explain the numerous shots of Deneuve's beautifully clad feet throughout the film, and the fact that every time she goes shopping, she buys shoes, and seems to enjoy taking them out of their box to admire. Bunuel also appears in the film in a cameo as a cafe patron, and in another scene his hands are shown loading a gun.

Cat Ballou

(1965)

Cat Ballou is a movie spoof unlike any other, and a great parody of the Western film genre. Jane Fonda appears in one of her most playful film roles ("Barbarella" is another light and funny Fonda classic), and Lee Marvin gives one of his finest film performances (he won his Oscar for his dual roles). Add to this mix a wondrous soundtrack, with Nat King Cole and Stubby Kaye as minstrels of sorts who stroll and sing throughout, making the film almost seem like a musical; an outstanding supporting cast including Michael Callan (who later appeared on TV's "One Life to Live"), and Dwayne Hickman (TV's Dobie Gillis), and the result is this hilarious, thoroughly entertaining film that was nominated for five Academy Awards (Marvin was the sole winner).

Catherine Ballou (Fonda) is a recently graduated-from-training schoolteacher returning home to live with her father on his ranch, but he is gunned down upon her arrival. She enlists the help of a loyal ranch-hand, a couple of outlaws, and most notably, a has-been alcoholic gunman by the name of Kid Sheleen (Marvin) to help her get revenge. The result is a thoroughly enjoyable film that still stands up today, and Lee Marvin stealing the entire film in his amazing dual role performance as both Tim Strong and Kid Sheleen. Lee Marvin alone makes the film well worth seeing.

The dialogue is great. Take this exchange as an example:

Jackson Two-Bears: "Kid, Kid, what a time to fall off the wagon. Look at your eyes."
Kid Sheleen: "What's wrong with my eyes?"
Jackson Two-Bears: "Well they're red; bloodshot."
Kid Sheleen: "You ought to see 'em from my side."

I was thrilled when the widescreen special edition of this long-time favorite of mine came out in 2003, and on DVD. I have the soundtrack on vinyl, but I have always wished that it would come out on CD; Nat King Cole is one of my all-time favorite singers, and his rendition of "They'll Never Make Me Cry" always makes me...anyway. This film still hasn't lost any of its humor or fun with the passing of time, and stays on my personal "top ten list" of great comedies.

I Married A Monster From Outer Space

(1958)

"The bride wore terror!"

The Fifties were a noteable decade for Sci-Fi films. The Cold War was on, and there was rampant paranoia about Communism; a generalized paranoia that was fueled in large part by McCarthy and his "House Un-American Activities Committee". Personal example of the time: I was born in the same year as this film was made, and I grew up in a house that had been built to my parents' specifications to include a real bomb shelter in its basement. Movies such as the classic "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", and "I Married a Monster From Outer Space" played on this theme, as translated into Sci-Fi films.

The sensationalist title belies the quality of the film and its well-told storyline. Although I am also fond of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", which has a similar theme, it lacks the heart of the subject of this review, in my opinion.

Marge (Gloria Talbott) and Bill (Tom Tryon) are getting married, but Marge doesn't realize at first that the night before the wedding her groom's body was taken over by an alien being. She notices the differences in his personality but brushes them aside. She soon comes to realize the true nature of what she has married, and of course tries to warn everyone, and stop the invasion of aliens...aliens who are taking over the menfolk of her town in the hopes of breeding with the women and establishing a colony on Earth. The theme is: "They look just like us....but they aren't! And they'll take over!" This is Communism as represented by the Sci-Fi genre, and it was very popular in the Fifties. The movie industry was feverishly pumping out lots of low-budget films meant to distract the American public at the local drive-in theatre. However, "I Married a Monster From Outer Space" seems to be one of the accidental gems.

Tom Tryon makes for a very likeable alien. He's tall, handsome, and manages to make his character very sympathetic as the film progresses. He starts to understand and appreciate Earth, its culture, and his beautiful wife Marge, as she simultaneously pulls away upon discovering that what she is living (and sleeping) with isn't really her husband. And as always in Sci-Fi, the dogs always know who's the alien and who's the human. Marge's present of a dog to Bill results in an episode that jolts her into realizing that something is truly wrong.

Subtle performances by both Tryon and Talbott help immensely. Both were highly respected and capable actors of the time, and Tryon in particular manages to go from gentle and kind to menacing with a very subtle and believable ease in this film. Tryon was in several well-known films, and received especially good critical reviews for his role in the film "The Cardinal". Interesting bit of trivia: he was also considered by Alfred Hitchcock for the role of Sam Loomis in "Psycho."

There are the typical Sci-Fi low-budget special effects, but what makes the film really work is the telling of the story in a manner that pulls you into all of the characters, despite the obvious shortcomings of the budget.

Note: Tom Tryon retired from acting in the late 1960's and became a successful novelist, publishing as Thomas Tryon; my mother had some of his books, such as the bestselling "The Other", "Harvest Home", and "Crowned Heads", all of which I thoroughly enjoyed and inherited.

The Beguiled

(1971)

"The Beguiled" is one of my favorite Clint Eastwood films, and a departure from his typical early roles. Directed by Don Siegel, with whom Eastwood collaborated on several films, it was made a year before Eastwood's directorial debut with "Play Misty For Me". An alternate title considered for the film was "Pussy-Footing Down At The Old Plantation", which thankfully was not used, otherwise I am sure raunchy jokes about the fact that it takes place at a girls' school would be difficult to avoid. I first saw this movie in one of my college film classes in the mid-1970's, and was immediately taken with it. I only had an old battered VHS tape of it until I recently purchased the widescreen DVD, which also includes the hilarious, awful trailer that makes the film come across as a "Peyton Place" soap opera, and conveys none of its creepiness.

Interesting notes: Eastwood and Siegel had to battle with Universal Pictures to keep the original ending, and they won out; and, the film was billed as a standard Eastwood western, which it certainly is not. It is a gothic tale of deception and horror set in the time of the Civil War, with an underlying tone of eroticism and sexual tension running throughout.

I'm not putting any spoilers in this review, and if you want to see the film as it should be seen, then be careful of looking it up on the internet, as spoiler reviews of it do abound.

Clint Eastwood is John McBurney, a Union soldier shot on Confederate ground and discovered by a young girl from a nearby girls' school. She rescues him and takes him back to the school, but instead of notifying the local patrol of his presence so that he will be taken to prison, the headmistress, Miss Martha (Geraldine Page), her assistant Edwina (Elizabeth Hartman), their black servant Hallie (Mae Mercer), and the mostly teenage girls take him in, start to heal him, and fall under his spell. The atmosphere of gothic horror starts from the titles, real battleground shots from the war are shown, and Eastwood's voice is heard quietly singing a funereal song of the time.

The opening scene of his encounter with the little girl who saves him sets the tone of his character, and the tone of the entire movie. To say any more than that would spoil the surprises in that first scene. To say much more about the film itself might ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it...if you are into creepy, gothic tales, find it and rent it. Eastwood is excellent, and it's interesting to see him in an early role, or any role, where he portrays a character that is for the most part very unsympathetic.

Geraldine Page had a plum role as the headmistress, and I cannot imagine another actress of the time being as good in the role; a long shot could have been Piper Laurie, but I don't think Laurie could have embodied it in the same manner as Geraldine Page.

Elizabeth Hartman (whose wonderful performance in the film "A Patch of Blue" as a blind girl who falls in love with Sidney Poiter's character is another high point in her short career) is at her prime here, delicate and masterful at the same time. Unfortunately, her delicacy on film was also a part of her real life; she committed suicide at age 45.

I end this review with this observation: one manipulative, lying Yankee man is no match for a houseful of deceptive and libidinous Southern belles.

Harvey

(1950)

"I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it."

Jimmy Stewart, in one of his personal favorite film and stage roles, portrays Elwood P. Dowd, a gentle philosopher and harmless alcoholic who, after his mother's death, befriends an imaginary - or is he? - 6'3.5" white rabbit; a "Pooka" who goes by the name of Harvey. Unfortunately, Harvey is invisible to just about everyone but Elwood. Elwood wanders through life perfectly happy, harming no one, but alienating his family and many of the townspeople with his "friend".

Josephine Hull, (who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in the film; she also played the part on stage) portrays his sister Veta Louise Simmons, and she steals the film, IMO; her facial expressions and gestures are priceless (she also played one of the aunts in "Arsenic and Old Lace", 1944).

Jimmy Stewart found himself personally identified with the role for many years, much to his delight, remarking in interviews how strangers would sometimes stop him in the street and seriously ask him if Harvey were with him, only to be kindly told, "No, he's at home today, with a slight cold" or some other humoring excuse for the lack of his invisible friend.

The pacing is fast and furious, and the dialogue alternately hilarious and touching in this whimsical, bittersweet tale of illusions and realities. Of course the movie is dated and implausible today in several respects; however it still holds a gentle, childlike appeal that transcends time. It's a great, simply-told "feel-good" movie to start off the holiday season.

The Night of the Hunter

(1955)



Trying to explain "The Night of the Hunter" to anyone is difficult. It's not the story that matters so much as how it's told, as directed by Charles Laughton in his one (credited) directorial effort. It is said he never directed again because the reviews of "The Night of the Hunter" discouraged him so much.

Robert Mitchum is "Reverend" Harry Powell, a self-appointed preacher who preys upon lonely widows - "What'll it be now, Lord? Another widow?" - killing them for their money as he believes the Lord has instructed him, and then moving on to the next victim. While in prison briefly on a car-theft rap, he shares a cell with Ben Harper (Peter Graves, best known for his role on the old TV show "Mission Impossible").

He tries to worm the location of the money from Harper before the execution. When he is released from his brief prison stay, he heads straight for Willa Harper (Shelley Winters); Ben's weak, sweet, sexually frustrated, somewhat dense widow, and her two kids.

There is just so much going on in this film: biblical references and symbolism; Freudian symbolism (Powell's knife brandished in a couple of scenes as a warped version of a phallic symbol); Mitchum's and Gish's amazing performances; various other, interesting, smaller storylines; a scene reminiscent of "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1919); Powell's tattoos of "Love" and "Hate" on his knuckles; and the dream-like, surreal riverboat escape sequence. The children, played by Billy Chapin (John Harper) and Sally Jane Bruce (Pearl Harper) give effective performances. There's also the over-the-top campiness in some of Mitchum's acting, which fits in perfectly with the stylized direction of the film; the sexual undercurrent and its repression that runs throughout (and no one played whiny, sexual frustration in those days better than Shelley Winters, as evidenced by this and other roles such as the mother in "Lolita" (1962): "Harrrrrry! I'm lonnnnnnnely!" and her role as the cast-aside pregnant girlfriend in "A Place in the Sun" (1951).

Lillian Gish is wonderful in her portrayal, standing up to the evil Harry Powell, and Robert Mitchum is perfectly cast in what some see as his best film role; his charismatic, handsome, oily, smooth portrayal of the serial killer Harry Powell surely must stand as a study guide for today's actors. Mitchum seemed to reprise much of his technique for this performance for his subsequent role in "Cape Fear" (1962).

I really can't say much more without going on and on for pages. Each scene could be written about and analyzed in detail; each scene is lit and photographed and told in a manner that has a director's hand prints all over it. It's a true artist's film, and we will never know what other wonders Charles Laughton could have directed. I have read of some viwers who laughed through much of this movie, which is unfortunate. I find it difficult to comprehend that reaction from any intelligent viewer who was really paying attention. I guess you either "get it", or you don't, which may have something to do with the film's dismal success when it was released.

This under-appreciated film is a ghoulish twist on a classic story, directed (and mostly written, it is said, by Laughton, after his arguing with James Agee over the rendition of the screenplay) in a masterful manner by a man best known for his own portrayals of classic film characters such as Captain Bligh in "Mutiny on the Bounty" (1935), and Quasimodo in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" (1939).

The hymn "Everlasting Arms" recurs throughout, and could never sound the same again after this film.

Go. Go at least to rent this movie, or better yet, buy it. It's a one-of-a-kind masterpiece, IMO.

Phantom of the Paradise

(1974)

Favorite quote: "There really is a phantom! He was just in my shower!"

This is one of the few films where Brian DePalma's sometimes stilted and melodramatic directorial methods (screen wipes, split screens, etc) are used to perfect effect. This satirical, extremely funny rock opera is an adaption of the original "Phantom of the Opera", with some Faust and a bit of "The Picture of Dorian Grey" thrown into the mix.

Paul Williams portrays Swan, a devilish music producer who steals composer Winslow Leach's original rock cantata score. Leach (William Finley) is disfigured while trying to wreak revenge on Swan, then succumbs to Swan's invitation to re-write the cantata if Phoenix (Jessica Harper) is allowed to perform it. The music alone is worth having, as Paul Williams is an excellent songwriter, with serious songs such as the haunting "Old Souls" (beautifully performed by Jessica Harper) included along with the campier fare. It's well worth watching over and over, played through your stereo, LOUD!

Several scenes and characters stand out: Beef, portrayed by Gerrit Graham, is my favorite: a mixture of the ridiculous "glitter rock" musicians of the time, with an ultra-effiminate side. Jessica Harper, in her first screen role, is sweet, pretty, an excellent singer, and her little dance around the stage as she auditions (I call it her "chicken dance") for Swan never fails to make me laugh out loud. Paul Williams is kind of creepy-looking on a good day, and is perfect for this part.

This is as good a movie, if not better, than "Rocky Horror Picture Show", but it has not as yet attained the level of popularity it deserves.

Of Human Bondage

(1934)

Bette Davis became a star with her role in this first and best film adaptation of the Somerset Maugham novel of the same name (well worth a read). This was her first nomination for an Academy Award, for her portrayal of Mildred Rogers; a tawdry, sluttish, cockney waitress who bewitches hapless Philip Carey (Leslie Howard, best known for his role as Ashley Wilkes in "Gone With the Wind"). She lost the award, receiving it for her role the following year for "Dangerous", which is generally viewed as a consolation prize.

The supporting cast includes Reginald Denny, Alan Hale Sr. (father of Alan Hale Jr., who was the skipper on the TV series "Gilligan's Isle"), and an angelicly beautiful Frances Dee.

The film starts out with Philip, a failed art student with a clubfoot (about which he is highly sensitive), turning to the study of medicine after facing that he has no artistic talent. Shortly thereafter he meets and quickly becomes obsessed with Mildred, despite her sneering and obvious disdain for him because of his deformity. Her standard response to his affectionate overtures is a chilly "I don't mind." In his dreams Mildred is sweet and kind to him; during real time she uses him, well aware of his affection for her, leaving him for other men and returning when she is down on her luck, ruining his chance for having a career or a normal life with another woman; but he finds himself inexorably drawn to her, even after his love for her has waned, until the day she finally pushes him too far, and he says, "You disgust me."

With those words, the camera turns fully to Mildred, and her facial expression flickers, then shifts from supplication to shock to full-on bitch in a matter of seconds, as she reacts to Philip's statement with a barrage of blood-curdling insults. Bette Davis as Mildred never fails to raise the hair on the back of my neck and arms with her performance, especially in this particular scene.

"Of Human Bondage" remains one of my all-time favorite Davis films along with others such as "The Little Foxes", "The Letter", and "All About Eve".

The Brain That Wouldn't Die

(1962)

"Alive... without a body... fed by an unspeakable horror from hell!"

So reads the tagline for this laughter-inducing horror film.

Dr. Bill Cortner is an egotistical and arrogant physician who likes to experiment with bodies in his spare time. In the first scene, after exclaiming, "He's dead! I can't do any harm!" and "Sure! I've made a few mistakes, but I've learned from them! Learned!" he is allowed by his physician father to take over in the operating room when a patient dies on the table.

Good Dr. Bill is next seen recklessly driving himself and his sweet, horny fiance Jan out to his country house; the car crashes, he salvages Jan's head from the burning wreckage, wraps his prize in his jacket, and runs the rest of the way with it like he's going for a touchdown during a football game. Once he gets to his lab, he sets her all up and presto! It's "Jan in a pan!" as I have heard this film referred to in the past.

Almost immediately his once-sweet lady (well, her head anyway) becomes a screeching shrew hoarsely calling out such lines as "Revenge! I hate him for what he's done to me!" as the desperate doctor goes on the hunt for a suitable body to use for restoring his girl back into something more, uhm, fully functional. His search takes him to strip joints and a beauty contest, to name two avenues he tries before he finds someone he believes to be a suitable candidate, telling her, "I'm going to cut your face off and give away your body, ah ha ha!" as she innocently laughs along.

To add to the fun, there is of course the wretched assistant with a mangled arm; one of the doctor's earlier "mistakes", and the "thing" locked in a closet in the lab. There's also the continual soundtrack of horns and sleazy stripper-like music. As far as the gore factor, this movie is actually pretty gruesome for its time, although the blood seems to be rather conveniently spilled (downstairs, but not upstairs, for instance), and "Jan in a Pan" laughs more maniacally as the movie progresses.

It's never explained how the head can speak without lungs or a body, although it must be the *new and improved* "Adreno-serum" as it's called that's being pumped into Jan's head, but then again who cares? Continuity flubs abound and serve to add to the camp factor. And look for the ending credits, which list the movie as "The Head That Wouldn't Die".

You can find this movie on Amazon.com in a DVD version that has the original film by itself, and also the film as part of an episode of Mystery Science Fiction Theatre 3000, the now-defunct hit TV show. Well, all I had to review this film with was my raggedy old videotape that appears to be degrading, so after watching it again, I gave into temptation and ordered the Amazon DVD of it. It'll be worth having a really good version of this so-bad-it's-funny bomb.

Just a "Teaser" review here...

(1954 and 1955)

I will write something something slightly more substantial next time, but I couldn't resist doing a short blurb on two camp classics I received in the mail and viewed a couple of days ago: "Varietease" and "Teaserama" - 1954 and 1955 short burlesque-type films featuring clips of beautiful '50s pinup icon Bettie Page.

Bettie loses some "coolness points" when she dances, but if you go into frame-by-frame mode on your DVD player it's obvious that each frame of her dancing would have made a great still shot in and of itself. Proof that she was a great poser, and a lousy dancer, but as she has said herself, she was "far from being a professional dancer". She is very appealing despite the fact that neither my husband nor myself could contain our raucous laughter during her dance scenes. Her sparkle and sense of fun are evident throughout, she is in great shape, and her ever-changing and playful facial expressions are absolute treats to see.

Plus! You get to "Hear Bettie speak!" in addition to seeing her jump around - uhhm I mean dance.

The best part of the DVD is a silent, black and white arcade film loop of Bettie created for those old-time coin-activated peep-show viewers....Bettie gyrates up to a point, then the screen is suddenly blocked out with a caption telling the viewer to insert coins to see more of the film. This of course occurs at a regular basis during this particular short, as it did when those types of films were originally shown. Classic camp!

There are also appearances by a rather famous, albeit scary-looking drag queen from the time, and some professional strippers who could have passed for drag queens...but I bought these really just for the Bettie Page segments; these two DVD's are a must-have for Bettie Page fans.

Hello and Welcome (Introduction)

When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time sitting on the floor, two feet away from the TV, watching old movies with my mother while she sat curled up in bed behind me. We had the best time. We watched all the classic silver screen films she grew up with and loved, and we also loved any and all horror movies. We would both be warning some teenager about to get sliced up, "No! Don't go in there! You'll be sorry! Watch out! Look behind you!" as my father would wander into the room and mutter, "What are you two watching now?"

On Saturday nights I'd try to stay up all night to watch an all-night horror feature show called "Shock Theatre." This I would do in my father's study, in front of a small, old, black and white TV brought in from the kitchen, and I'd wear little earphones that worked with the TV so as not to disturb the rest of the family as they slept. My father took the above photo of me before I could even look up from the TV, as I was watching "Shock Theatre" late one night.

My love of films has continued throughout my life. My affection for the older ones prevails, and I have along the way also acquired a love of the campy B horror films such as the ones by William Castle and George Romero. However, my favorite director has been and will always be Alfred Hitchcock.

In college I majored in Commercial Art, and double-minored in Film Criticism, and Creative Writing. For the film minor I had to constantly write papers over the course of the four years of college, reviewing the films we were shown. Some that I remember watching and writing papers on were "Lawrence of Arabia", "The Haunting", "Play Misty for Me", and "The Silent Partner". I also remember writing one entire paper just on the music in "Psycho." To me all of this was like getting paid to rob a candy store.

What has bothered me more and more over the years since has been what seems to be a waning interest in older films, and this includes films that were made just 20 years ago (which isn't even old, but many people seem to think so). I whine a lot to friends about all the lousy remakes of classics that keep getting spewed out. The first two that come to mind are the remakes of "The Stepford Wives" and "The Manchurian Candidate". Blasphemy!

Recently a friend of mine suggested I start a movie review website. My reply was, "Why? I'd just be mostly whining about how movies today suck compared to the older ones, and I'd be telling people which older films to go see. I wouldn't review any of the new dumb movies, I'd be saying, "HEY! Go rent the original 'The Manchurian Candidate' or "HEY! Go rent 'All About Eve!'", ad nauseum.

Well, actually, maybe this isn't such a bad idea. Maybe some people who never would have done so will check out some of these oldies but goodies and enjoy them. Or not.

It helps if you understand up front that my taste in movies includes dark humor, politically incorrect situations, British humor, horror, and camp, in addition to my swooning over long-gone hunks of the silver screen such as my all-time favorite, Gary Cooper.

But no, this is not a movie review. Not yet. Don't be hatin'.