otter Reviews

The Seven-Per-Cent Solution (1976)

Sherlock Holmes + Sigmund Freud = Delightful Fluff

[25 February 2001]

Okay, imagine the fictional Sherlock Holmes' drug habit and obsessions are getting out of hand, and he's manipulated into getting treatment from the historical Dr. Sigmund Freud. You might think you'd get some sort of grim tale of how suffering relates to genius, or a serious meeting of minds. But the makers of this lovely film went with a comic mystery, with only touches of deeper drama. Like "Shakespeare In Love" the filmmakers may have hoped that they would make a movie that was more than fluff, and like "SOL" it isn't, it's just particularly good fluff.

The mystery isn't really much, something about a kidnapped actress and corrupt nobles, but the actual crimes are really beside the point. One watches this film to see the sparkling byplay between the super-rational Holmes and the seemingly more mystical Freud. And like a lot of good comedies there are moments of seriousness (drugs and paranoia don't let go easily, not even in movie comedies); but the filmmakers wisely keep the melodrama in check, offering more wit and action than psychological depth.

The leading performances are everything one could hope for. Nicol Williamson is quite a perfect Holmes - cool and brilliant on the surface, with a madness underneath that frightens everyone, including himself. Alan Arkin (whom I love enough to marry) as Dr. Freud is a delight as the stodgy young doctor who finds himself involved in an adventure, and much to his surprise finds himself having the time of his life. Robert Duval as Dr. Watson isn't nearly as much fun, but then he doesn't get any of the good lines. Vanessa Redgrave, Joel Grey, Lawrence Olivier, and Samantha Eggar are wasted in supporting roles; Toby the dog has better scenes – although Vanessa looks incredible with her sweeping period hairdo. Herbert Ross' direction is so charming and lively that one even forgives him for ending a Sherlock Holmes with a chase scene - because it's such a *good* chase scene. There's even a nice bouncy score keeping everything moving.

This is a good movie, well made and enjoyable, by all means watch it when you want something that's both fun and clever.

(P.S. And if you can't live without more Sherlock Holmes comedies: "Without A Clue" is both hilarious and original. Also recommended is "The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes", which has some very funny comedy parts in the first half your, before becoming a good gothic-romantic mystery. Sadly inferior are Gene Wilder's "Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother" and the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore version of "The Hound Of The Baskervilles".)

(P.P.S. Itty tiny spoiler… There is no "7%" involved in the solution to the crime. Don't wait for it.)

The Seven-Per-Cent Solution (1976)

Sherlock Holmes + Sigmund Freud = Delightful Fluff

[25 February 2001]

Okay, imagine the fictional Sherlock Holmes' drug habit and obsessions are getting out of hand, and he's manipulated into getting treatment from the historical Dr. Sigmund Freud. You might think you'd get some sort of grim tale of how suffering relates to genius, or a serious meeting of minds. But the makers of this lovely film went with a comic mystery, with only touches of deeper drama. Like "Shakespeare In Love" the filmmakers may have hoped that they would make a movie that was more than fluff, and like "SOL" it isn't, it's just particularly good fluff. The mystery isn't really much, something about a kidnapped actress and corrupt nobles, but the actual crimes are really beside the point. One watches this film to see the sparkling byplay between the super-rational Holmes and the seemingly more mystical Freud. And like a lot of good comedies there are moments of seriousness (drugs and paranoia don't let go easily, not even in movie comedies); but the filmmakers wisely keep the melodrama in check, offering more wit and action than psychological depth. The leading performances are everything one could hope for. Nicol Williamson is quite a perfect Holmes - cool and brilliant on the surface, with a madness underneath that frightens everyone, including himself. Alan Arkin (whom I love enough to marry) as Dr. Freud is a delight as the stodgy young doctor who finds himself involved in an adventure, and much to his surprise finds himself having the time of his life. Robert Duval as Dr. Watson isn't nearly as much fun, but then he doesn't get any of the good lines. Vanessa Redgrave, Joel Grey, Lawrence Olivier, and Samantha Eggar are wasted in supporting roles; Toby the dog has better scenes – although Vanessa looks incredible with her sweeping period hairdo. Herbert Ross' direction is so charming and lively that one even forgives him for ending a Sherlock Holmes with a chase scene - because it's such a *good* chase scene. There's even a nice bouncy score keeping everything moving. This is a good movie, well made and enjoyable, by all means watch it when you want something that's both fun and clever. (P.S. And if you can't live without more Sherlock Holmes comedies: "Without A Clue" is both hilarious and original. Also recommended is "The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes", which has some very funny comedy parts in the first half your, before becoming a good gothic-romantic mystery. Sadly inferior are Gene Wilder's "Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother" and the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore version of "The Hound Of The Baskervilles".) (P.P.S. Itty tiny spoiler… There is no "7%" involved in the solution to the crime. Don't wait for it.)

Blanche Fury (1948)

Effective suspense in period trappings

[25 February 2001]

The 18th century costumes, manor-house setting, and forbidden romance make this look like a bodice-ripper to the idle channel-flipper, but it's not. It's a twisted and effective suspense movie in a period setting, more like "Dangerous Liaisons" than Harlequin books. It's about a beautiful and willful young woman (Valerie Hobson) who doesn't like her rich clod of a husband, instead she has the hots for poor-but-gorgeous estate manager Stewart Granger. At first it's all forbidden kisses and steamy dialogue... until they kill her husband. Then, things start to get real, and get creepy. It's easy to get excited over forbidden fruit that looks like Stewart Granger, but a whole lot harder to deal with a murderer who wants to marry you for reasons that have nothing to do with romance. Especially when it's impossible to refuse him because you're an accessory to murder, even after he...(sorry, no spoilers). It's rather like Hitchcock's "Shadow of a Doubt" or "Dangerous Liaisons", in which a well-to-do, polite exterior conceals a man and woman whose love has turned deadly. When I first saw this movie I was astonished at how good it was, and wondered why I'd never heard of it. It isn't a classic like "Kind Hearts and Coronets", but it sure grabbed me when I flipped across it. Between the solid performances by Hobson and Granger, the lush Technicolor photography, the steamy romance, and the creepy ending, this is one to look for. (I don't believe it's out on video, but is occasionally shown on AMC

Jerry Maguire (1996)

Made by yuppie scum, for yuppie scum. DIE YUPPIE SCUM!!

[4 January 2001]

Big cheese sports agent Tom Cruise is struggling to find meaning in his lucrative shark-in-a-suit, love-em-and-leave-em, what's-my-client's-name-again existence. In a fit of what passes for normality in this movie he writes a "shocking" Mission Statement and loses his job. His only supporters are his sole client Cuba Gooding Jr., and lowly clerical worker Renee Zellweger, who works for him for apparently no salary, takes him home to her sister and sickly little boy, and of course falls in love with him. Of course Tom has to redeem himself and prove he's worthy of Renee by the most meaningful challenge the writers could think of (one that's undoubtedly near and dear to their hearts) - getting his overpaid client millions and millions of dollars instead of just millions of dollars.

The first thing that I can't stand about the movie is that it's deadly serious about all those buzzwords and management fads that make my teeth crawl in real life. Like how Tom loses his job over a Really Important Mission Statement - have you ever known an actual working human being (not a yuppie) who takes those things seriously? And the way Tom constantly uses the phrase "Customer Service" to make his firing worthwhile and give meaning to his shallow existence. In the real world "Customer Service" has an entirely different meaning: It's a terrifying buzzword that inhuman managers use to mean "I don't just want 8 hours of work from my employees - I want to control every aspect of their behavior, I want to micromanage away their individuality, I want their very souls!". And the writers seem to think it's inspirational.

Tom Cruise is as slick and shallow as Cameron Crowe's direction, all dazzling grins and big-eyed vulnerable looks photographed from the most flattering angle, his usual Star performance. The supporting cast is excellent, in fact much better than the two leads. Bonnie Hunt as Renee's bitter sister has all the good lines and shares scene-stealing honors with five-year-old Jonathan Lipnicki, a genuinely cute child actor, and the lively and charming Cuba Gooding Jr. But it's Renee Zellweger's `Dorothy' who delivers the other killer blow to what might have been a good. better film. The character is the most annoying female lead of recent years. She's introduced on an airplane where the audience is supposed to feel sorry for her because she has to fly coach! Where she isn't given ONE glass of champagne, oh da poor widdle ting! Face it, her character is truly gullible and dimwitted, and like many badly written female characters, never talks about her own needs, just what she can do for Jerry. She's not a written as a person, she and her kid are just there to allow Jerry The Jerk to show his vulnerable, caring side - in relationships that are 100% All About Him. (Plus she strongly reminds me of some real-life women who act vulnerable and self-sacrificing, and are in fact manipulative bitches)

In short, if you like this film you probably are or aspire to be the kind of yuppie who inspired the catchphrase "Die Yuppie Scum". Let this movie serve not as entertainment, but as a test and a wake-up call. If you enjoy it at all, or identify with Tom, or even go through the whole film without ever once wanting to hit any of these people - change your life immediately! It may not be too late for you to rejoin the human race!

DIE YUPPIE SCUM!!!

Spitfire (1934)

Unintentionally funny - we're talking Miscasting Hall of Fame

[4 January 2001]

Okay, you have a lame script about a hillbilly girl. She's emotional and immature, ignert and superstitious, grubby and mystical, with an innocent yet powerful sexuality. Who do you cast? Perhaps an actress who can project some of those qualities? Possibly someone who can do the accept properly, maybe someone in the right age group, or even someone whose background has something in it that would allow her to connect to the character? YOU might, but the producers cast the most damnably Yankee actress in Hollywood - Katherine Hepburn.

Katherine Hepburn - of New England old money, graduate of Bryn Mawr, officially inducted into the Preppie Hall of Fame, the living embodiment of well-bred hard-headed plain-spoken Yankee common sense, whose best roles are as sophisticated and professional women... cast as a ragged teenage Hillbilly outcast illiterate mystic thought to be a witch by her backwoods neighbors? Hepburn had enough Yankee common sense to try everything possible to get out of doing this role, but the idiots who ran studio had the upper hand and forced her into this little stinker. Her awkwardness shows she knows what a fool she's making of herself, but still gives it the old college try (yuk, yuk), taking this movie from ordinary badness into truly amazing eye-popping badness. I mean, classy Kate Hepburn throwing stones at the neighbors and having bug-eyed visions? You have to see this to believe it.

Without Hepburn the movie would still be terrible (but with her it's funny). It's one of these horrible condescending scripts about how ignernt and cruel them backwoods white trash is, and how being ignernt and immature is kinda sexy in a purty girl. Eeew.

(Note: Way funnier than her second-most spectacularly miscast role. In 1941 she played a Chinese peasant woman in "Dragon Seed". It's not nearly as funny, being just a bad war-effort film, it's rather dull and this one is absolutely daffy.)

Meet Joe Black (1998)

Brad Pitt strikes again!

[1 January 2001]

Brad Pitt kills this movie. The movie is slow, it's long, it's almost silent, but those aren't necessarily movie-killers. No, to really kill a movie, you have to get the leading role completely, utterly wrong - like here.

It's basically a remake of the old movie "Death Takes a Holiday", where Death assumes human form, and falls in love. The old movie was from the early days of sound and consequently clumsily made, but had a gothic romanticism that makes it still worth watching. The new version tries for a bit of the same, and came close in some places, but you can't do Gothic Romanticism with a blank like Brad Pitt at the center of the film. It could have been a good film with a decent leading actor, the director had the courage to try for the kind of stillness and quiet that makes the smallest nuances seem vital (a la "The Innocents" or "The Sixth Sense"), and for stretches of the film it actually works. It does get you to actually get into the relationships between the characters, the silence really does draw you in - when it works.

But some actors can't stand that kind of scrutiny - Brad Pitt being one. Death was written as having a mix of utter innocence (new to humanity and all that) and terrible depths - which HAD to be played by an actor who's at least capable of registering feeling in a close-up! For this movie to work at all the endless close-ups needed to be fascinating - we needed to watch the thoughts, feelings, and depths playing through Death's eyes. But neither thoughts, feelings, nor depths play through Pitt's eyes, nothing plays through Pitt's eyes, except a vague awareness that he looks good. All the close-ups of Brad looking clueless (the closest he can come to innocent) do not fascinate, instead he looks deeply stupid!

If you want to see a good movie with Death as a character don't see this, see "The Seventh Seal" or the original "Death Takes a Holiday" or Woody Allen's "Love and Death"... or even "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" – which is a way better movie than this.

The Night of the Generals (1967)

Peter O'Toole goes over the TOP!

[1 January 2001]

I am proud to say that I love Peter O'Toole! He's not only one of my favorite actors ever, but he's starred in more of my all all-time favorite films than anybody else. But playing an insane Nazi General who kills women to "relieve his tensions"... was not a good career move. Provoking giggles where you intended to create fear is never a good idea.

If you see this film in your TV guide, I'd advise you to skip the first hour. The first hour is a standard WWII thriller, where good Nazi cop Omar Sharif (there's casting for you) suspects three Nazi generals of gruesomely murdering a woman. We meet all the major characters - Omar, the generals, the pretty daughter of one, a nice young corporal who doesn't want to fight, etc. We watch some intrigues and see O'Toole's character icily destroy a Polish ghetto. And then we lose track of what's going on when two years pass and they don't say so until you're completely confused it - and forget about it everything when O'Toole reappears and hijacks the film with his magnetic badness.

Being an Evil Nazi is driving General Pete insane, and by this point even his superiors have noticed that he's getting a few clowns short of a circus. He's on forced leave in Paris, and driven around by the nice corporal and shadowed by Sharif. The plot screeches to a halt as and we get endless closeups of him staring sweatily at art and prostitutes, and walking so unnaturally to the silly "madness" music that we were yelling "Klaatu, gort barada niktu" at the screen. This is the kind of bad performance that can only be given by a really good actor - it's easy to see why the director let him get away with it and overpower the rest of the film, this must have looked like great acting when seen piece by piece in the editing room.

The finale was very badly handled indeed (somebody wasn't doing his homework on how to adapt a book for the screen); for a suspenseful ending there's nothing like stopping at the exciting part and taking things up 20 years later, is there? Check it out if you love Peter O'Toole - even when he's bad - or if the last half is coming up and you have nothing better to do that watch some seriously bad cinema.

Glorifying the American Girl (1929)

The biggest, most extravagant musical of the early sound era, which doesn't mean it's a good movie

[15 May 2000]

"Glorifying the American Girl" was a huge hit in its day. Talking pictures were brand new and musicals were all the rage, and this was not only the most extravagant musical of it's day, it allowed America to finally see one of Florenz Ziegfeld's legendary musicals without going all the way to New York. Today it's chiefly of historical interest, as an early talkie and an example of 1920's Broadway, and yes, a Flo Ziegfeld's musical extravaganza.

It's not very entertaining, being as clumsily shot as most early talkies, with bad sound and film that's been allowed to deteriorate until hardly any detail is visible. The Ziegfeld show that's the chief attraction would be eye-popping if it were in color, if you could see any of the detail of the huge, insane, costumes, and if you could see any of the famous "Most beautiful girls in New York" except as distant blurs. The plot is pretty lame, about a sweet, innocent, well-chaperoned vaudeville girl who becomes a Broadway star in spite of a few minor difficulties, so the mind is pretty much left to look at such spectacle as is visible (and Eddie Cantor) and ponder the meaning of life and history and wonder about things like...

...If you're sick of movies that are nothing but CGS special effects, it be glad you didn't live in the "Good old days" where the show was nothing but fancy costumes and girls who just stood there wearing them. Ziegfeld never had even a pretense at a plot, just some disconnected songs and comedy routines. ...Isn't it amazing how far the art of dance has come in the last 80 years? Leading lady Marilyn Miller is the only one of the dozens of girl dancers who looks like she had more than a month of training, and she lacks anything resembling polish. Then she was a star, today she couldn't get a job. ...If you're a woman and tired of the endless quest for perfect thinness, it's interesting to see how much fashions in women's figures change; Marilyn Miller was one short, chunky woman and everyone thought she was hot stuff. ...Gosh, weren't those costumes skimpy? Even by today's standards (outside of Las Vegas). This was made before the movie industry began censoring itself, and it makes one wonder what one's grandmother got up to during the roaring twenties! ...How did the girls move in those 10-foot headresses? Do they use the same steel-brace-down-the-back as "Beach Blanket Babylon", or are they so stiff because they're afraid a wrong move will unbalance the things and break their necks? ...Isn't it nice to live in a world where a girl can have a job without having to take her mother with her everywhere she goes? And aren't you glad girls don't have to pretend to be so innocent they're helpless anymore? ...Did you know that Marilyn Miller was the first Marilyn? Yup, she made up the name for herself and it caught on bigtime.

… did you know Billie Burke, who played Glinda the Good Witch in `The Wizard of Oz' was Ziegfeld's last wife? And did you know that Myrna Loy played her in `The Great Ziegfeld'?

Okay, I was getting pretty bored with the movie by the end.

The Devil's Advocate (1997)

Pacino goes OVER the TOP!!

[28 April 2000]

At first this movie seemed like a decently-made, moderately realistic portrayal of the conflicts in the life of young defense lawyer, marred only by the casting of Keanu Reeves as an intelligent person. But as soon as he's hired away to New York by big shot Al Pacino, things begin to get more interesting... no, make that more melodramatic.

For the first hour or two the movie keeps a good tension going as Keanu and wife Charlize Theron find their values, integrity and happiness stripped away one temptation at a time; and their seemingly perfect lives slowly become a living hell. But it's about the time that it becomes obvious that everyone around them is already there that the movie begins to slowly inch over the top. About when Charlize had hallucinations and whined "they stole my ovaries!", and Keanu attended a funeral where his co-workers groped each other instead of mourning, and Pacino made some Holy Water boil and laughed like Boris Karloff ("Bwhahahahahahahaha!!") at the ceiling... I stopped thinking about issues of temptation and started giggling - and that was just when the movie got lively.

Pacino comes into his own in the last half hour, proving again that there's nothing on Earth more watchable that a big ham actor having the time of his life. He doesn't take it at all seriously, this where he has center stage and all his best lines, and he booms them out with fervid amusement. I've never seen him overact so badly except in "Looking for Richard" (where he ably demonstrated why nobody's paying him to play Shakespeare), and there the excessive broadness could be excused on the grounds that he really filming a stage role. No excuses this time, it's just plain overacting! As for the other performances, they range from competent to Keanu Reeves. As for the lovely Keanu... I will only say that he... cannot hold his own against the raging torrent that is Pacino, and that the dreadful bogus Southern accent doesn't help him to appear to have more than two neurons to rub together.

And just when you were having some major fun with Pacino ... you're deflated by the kind of tacked-on ending that studios insist on when they think the story's right and natural ending will hurt the box-office. Still, worth a look if you want to be entertained.

Natural Born Killers (1994)

This movie isn't just bad, it's vile.

[5 April 2000]

If you liked this movie - do not hesitate, call your local mental health center for a referral! And after a few months (or years) of therapy, take a film criticism class. This movie isn't just a dreadful, chaotic mess, it's seriously evil.

The main problem with this movie, and probably one of the reasons it inspired real-life copy-cat killings, is that it's main message seems to be "What really matters is being young and cool and madly in love; being like Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis is far more important than, say, human life. It's kinda okay to kill people who are so uncool they not only have visible body fat, they, gross, have jobs! And, hey, killing people for no reason isn't like working for a tabloid or anything, those people are REAL sleazeballs!"

The other problem with this movie is that it's just badly made. Director Oliver Stone completely botches this one. Not only does he make his spree killers far too sympathetic and thereby destroy any message he may have intended to deliver (probably something about how the media glorifies terrible people to get an audience, which is lost in Stone's glorification of these terrible people), but the movie is just painful to watch. It's non-stop weird camera angles, crashing music, snips of crazed animation, shaking cameras, nonsensical film clips in the background; the sort of thing that Ed Wood (director of "Glen or Glenda") and Phil Tucker (director of "Robot Monster") were made fun of for when they used them in their low-budget bad classics. Maybe it's supposed to represent the hallucinatory brains of our crazed "heroes", which makes more sense than Stone's use of the same sort of thing in "Nixon", but mostly it just gave me a headache from eyestrain.

This isn't a movie you enjoy or anything, it's a movie that leaves you thinking "Who on Earth would give Stone money to make this mess, once they'd read the script? Who on Earth agreed to distribute this, one they'd seen it? Who would have it in their theater? What does this say about Hollywood's opinion of its audience? What were they all thinking? What were they THINKING???"

Bobby Deerfield (1977)

It's almost so bad it's good, but mostly it's just plain bad.

[1/10 · 5 April 2000]

One of the most peculiar oft-used romance movie plots is this one: A seriously messed-up man falls in love with a terminally ill woman, who turns his life around before dying. Occasionally this story is done well and realistically (as in "The Theory of Flight", an excellent weepie), but more frequently it's done like it is here, where as usual the heroine dies of "Old Movie Disease". You know, the terminal illness that has no symptoms but one fainting spell and a need to lie down as you're telling your lover goodbye forever; and your looks aren't affected one bit (and since this is the 70's, neither is your sex life). This is one of the worst versions made of that particular story, where a very silly script puts two incompatible and unbelievable characters together, and they're played by actors who are completely at sea.

This has got to be the worst performance of Al Pacino's career, and I say that after having seen "The Devil's Advocate" only two days ago! He plays a control-freak, emotionally constipated race-car driver, and plays an unlikeable character lifelessly. He seems to constantly be asking himself why he's staying around the grating Marthe Keller (so does the audience), and spends most of the movie just... standing there, usually with his mouth hanging open. The only time he shows any sign of life is towards the end, where his character proves that he's changed from uptight to liberated by doing a hilariously bad Mae West imitation. Hey, it *was* the seventies!

Marthe Keller is equally terrible as the dying love interest; her character was conceived as bold and free and touching and uninhibited and full of life even though dying, and was probably meant to be played with an actress with the sensitivity of, say, Vanessa Redgrave or Julie Christie. Instead, they got the expressionless face and heavy German accent of Ms. Keller, who comes across as more of a scary Teutonic stereotype ("You VILL eat ze omelet!") than anything like lovable. She's supposed to be reforming Pacino and filling him with courage and spirit and all that, but it doesn't work that way, it's more like she's harping on his faults in the most obnoxious possible fashion. This makes for one of the least convincing romances in movie history, where you can't believe she'd be with someone she finds so worthless, and you can't believe he's with someone who gets on his nerves that much.

Some bad-movie fans call this a cult classic, mostly because of Pacino's silly "liberating" Mae West imitation. The scene is a scream, especially in context, but not worth sitting through the rest of the film for. No, only see the film if you're a serious bad-movie aficionado who is especially interested in studying Extreme Lack of Chemistry between leading actors, or Very Bad Casting (not only are the leads terrible, but Pacino's other girlfriend is played by an actress who looks and sounds just likes Keller with shorter hair, I got them totally confused). This isn't one of those laugh-a-minute bad movies like "The Conqueror", it's just a really, really bad movie.

Encino Man (1992)

A guilty pleasure if ever there was one

[6/10 · 30 January 2000]

This movie is charming and funny enough to rise above its considerable weaknesses, mainly thanks to Brendan Fraser's enchanting performance as an unfrozen cave-man who finds himself in a modern high school. Chief among said weaknesses are the two out of the three leading characters; a snotty little high-school social climber played by Sean Astin, and the always-annoying Paulie Shore. And the fact that it's yet another high-school message film (`Be yourself and you'll be popular'). But Fraser makes up for it all – he hardly speaks but his expressive face and uninhibited body carry the film. Imagine a young and naive Cary Grant

I Walk Alone (1947)

Enjoyable battle of wits between gangsters

[14 November 1999]

Burt Lancaster has been in prison since the days of Al Capone, and when released he sets out to claim his share of ill-gotten gains from his former partner, Kirk Douglas. Kirk is pleasant at first, lulling Burt with wine, gourmet food, and the company of his mistress Lizbeth Scott, but he has no intention of sharing anything. What starts out as a buddy relationship becomes a battle of wits and wills as the two fight for control of Kirk's nightclub, lots of money, and Lizbeth.

This is no "Double Indemnity", but the two main characters are written and acted well enough to hold our interest. Douglas steals the film as the cleverer thug, the one who was smart enough to get away and go legit. His performance is lively and has touches of humor, particularly in the scene where he proves that the pen is mightier than the sword, or at least that legalese is mightier than the gun. Lancaster has a more violent, less sympathetic character, but has fun playing a brute who's forced to actually think for the first time in his life.

Not a great film, but an enjoyable one. Interesting for the way it shows the changes in the criminal world over the course of a decade, from the brutality of the thirties to the emerging sophistication of the fifties.

Small Town Girl (1953)

Generic MGM musical

[18 September 1999]

Film buffs who rave about the classic MGM Musicals should keep in mind that there was only one "Singin' In The Rain" but a lot of dull, squeaky-clean generic musicals like this one. You might be tempted to see the whole movie, because there's one truly fabulous musical number that's widely excerpted, but the rest is hardly worth seeing.

Singing ingenue Jane Powell is the small-town girl of the title, who meets a bad, rich, big-city rake, falls in love, hunts him down, reforms him, and marries him (I'm SO glad that plot has gone out of fashion). Powell is wide-eyed and sticky-sweet, Farley Granger is embarrassed, and Ann Miller and the rest of the supporting players are the same as they are in every other MGM musical ever made. Small-town virtue is relentlessly praised, big-city ways relentlessly bashed (although Farley's "bad" ways are pretty tame), and it's all as sugary and colorful as a lollipop.

The one fabulous number is the one where Ann Miller sings "I Gotta Hear That Beat" and taps wildly around a huge stage with disembodied hands holding musical instruments sticking out of the floor. It's way cool, but it's excerpted in "That's Entertainment" (or was it "TEII"?) which is a much better way to pass ninety minutes.

A Song Is Born (1948)

Enjoyable musical comedy (more so if you haven't seen the original)

[18 September 1999]

This is a musical remake of the 1940 classic "Ball of Fire". The plot is almost the same, a gangster's moll crashes the residence of a bunch of professors who are writing an encyclopedia, and falls in love the the youngest one. This time they're a musical encyclopedia rather than a generalized one, which allows for a lot of musical numbers, some of them pretty enjoyable. It's a lively, superficial, colorful musical with some laughs to it, if you haven't seen "Ball of Fire" you'll probably have quite a good time.

But the film and especially the performances are vastly inferior to the original. Virginia Mayo is the same as she always was in musical comedies, a sort of generic leading lady/straight man. Danny Kaye is limited by his role, he's playing an uptight nerd and can't use his fabulous manic energy at all for most of the film (Gary Cooper was absolutely hilarious as the uptight nerd in the original, he was one good actor). The supporting performances are all pretty cartoonish, none stand out, but there are appearances by Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong, Tommy Dorsey, and Lionel Hampton which you might want to catch.

The Unforgiven (1960)

Overly melodramatic western

[4 September 1999]

It's not a bad film, but I found it pretty heavy going. Rancher Burt Lancaster adopted a half Native American daughter (Audrey Hepburn) years ago, and the local tribe wants her back now that she's old enough to marry, and none of the local white people will defend a mere half-breed. All rather grim, violent, melodramatic, and humorless, and with a heavy-handed moral about racial tolerance.

The only thing I really like about this movie is that one of my favorite practical jokes of all time happened behind the scenes. Egomaniacal director John Houston and temperamental star Burt Lancaster didn't get on very well (to say the least), and Houston decided he was going to get Lancaster good. Lancaster was entered in a local golf tournament, he took golf very seriously indeed. The morning of the tournament Houston went out and bought a crate of ping-pong balls, and hired a crop duster. He had the pilot fly out to the country club where the tournament was being held, and when the excitement of the competition was at its highest (as high as excitement in golf ever gets, anyway) he started throwing the ping-pong balls from the airplane onto the golf course. Did you ever notice how a ping-pong ball is almost exactly the size and shape of a golf ball? None of the golfers could tell the balls in play from the rain of ping-pong balls, and the tournament was cancelled in mid-play. Lancaster practically had a stroke.

North West Mounted Police (1940)

Slow yet silly costume melodrama

[20 August 1999]

"Oh Dusty, you're an angel in leather!" "I love you so terrible bad I feel good!" "You're the sweetest poison that ever got into a man's blood!"

Campy and implausible enough to be written up in "The Fifty Worst Films of All Time", yet too slow to be as amusing as "The Conqueror". Set in 19th century Quebec, the characters mill around a wilderness fort, chase each other and a gattling gun, lust after each other, and spout ridiculous dialogue. It takes forever and drags a lot, but it looks nice for something shot on a soundstage, and there are some decent actors like Gary Cooper and Madeline Carroll in it, even if they look kind of embarrassed.

What keeps this from being other boring costume melodramas like "Unconquered" is the usually wooden Paulette Goddard as a half-breed temptress. (You just know you're in for something bad when you see those words) We're talking high camp, over-the-top ludicrous, with her silly accent and sillier makeup, and supreme overconfidence in her ability to handle a role like this. It's worth tuning it to see her sashay around in her leather-and-feather costumes, chewing the scenery while doing stuff like public spankings and tormenting a bound Robert Preston.

Blame It on Rio (1984)

Evil incest fantasy, and it's not even funny.

[18 August 1999]

Two middle-aged, bored, unhappy, American men have affairs with each other's underage daughters. The script tries to excuse it with the Rio setting and by making the girls unrealistically sexually aggressive. Supposed to be a comedy, but completely devoid of laughs. Proof positive that Michael Caine can get away with ANYTHING, I still like him even after seeing this!

Also of interest to film historians for the good look at Demi Moore's original bosom.

The Light That Failed (1939)

Well done, beautifully acted, and as melodramatic as possible

[1 August 1999]

Authors just don't have the nerve to write melodrama any more. They're afraid of big issues and larger-than-life emotions, they're afraid that if they put any real passion or sentiment on the page, they'll make fools of themselves. They're probably right, but when a story as sappy as this works, it really, uh, "tugs at the heartstrings" as they used to say.

Rudyard Kipling's war horse story works because it's well acted and directed. Ronald Colman is even more wonderful than usual as a Victorian artist who finds he's going blind, and has just enough time left to paint a masterpiece. Never was an actor more admirable, earnest, and lovable as Colman. Ida Lupino got her big break as the model for "Melancholy". Oh, she's wonderful; a mean, vicious, petty little tart, never again would anybody dismiss her as just another pretty face. This part established her as one of the all-time great Bad Girls, beautiful and strong enough to make over-the-top hysteria seem like bravura acting. She's great.

The direction is as lively as can be for what's largely two characters in one room, and the B&W photography is beautifully expressive. Recommended for when you want some old-fashioned unashamed emotion.

Sahara (1983)

The worst bodice-ripper I've ever seen

[25 July 1999]

Ludicrous bodice-ripper starring the wooden Brook Shields as the kind of plucky romantic heroine who can change outfits in mid-kidnapping. Features such silliness as nomadic Bedouin chiefs who keep stone dungeons on hand, other Bedouin who have frosted lipstick and gold lame party outfits lying around, more Bedouin going on a human hunt using leopards instead of hounds (the leopards are kept on leashes where they can't chase anything), hairstyles that range from 1910 to 1983 (story set in the 1920's), incredible continuity problems with the trans-Sahara race that forms the basis of the plot (Brooke spends about a week in one spot, and suddenly the other drivers all appear at once; her two assistants appear and disappear randomly) etc. etc.

Just about the dumbest, silliest, most badly acted, worst plotted excuse for a movie you'll ever see. Young Brooke Shields is so bad that you swear she couldn't get the lead in a a high school play, much less a real movie. Even by the low standards of the romance genre, it's pathetic.

Valentino (1977)

Visually lush, but not one of Russell's better films.

[2/10 · 25 July 1999]

There are two basic problems with this film: First, Rudolph Valentino may have been incredibly sexy on screen (woo-hoo!), but he wasn't that interesting off-screen. Second, he Rudolf Nureyev isn't a good enough actor to make him interesting. Russell tries to work around these basic problems by including lots of 1920's Hollywood excess and decadence, and as much sex and violence as he could fit in, all in amazing period clothes, but it's not enough.

It's a gorgeous film to look at, the screen glitters with light and color and glamour, and some of the scenes are stunning enough to keep you watching. My favorites are the dance sequences, Valentino was a dancer and the slinky, sexy Nureyev does several dazzling tango numbers. (I recommend this film to any serious balletomane for that reason)

It's when he has to talk that the film runs into trouble, and since he's the entire film, it's major trouble. Nureyev's English was never that good, and he either stumbles over his lines or spits them out at top Russian speed. His body is expressive, but his face is not, which is typical of dancers whose faces aren't clearly seen by the audiences, and who are mainly concerned with not panting visibly.

But the problem that could probably never be overcome is that the characters aren't very sympathetic or interesting. Valentino spent his short career as a passive pawn of the studios, his bitch wife Natasha Rambova (snippily played by the bland Michelle Phillips), and diva actor-director Alla Nazimova (Leslie Caron gnawing on the scenery). The script tries to build some regular-Joe-who-never-wanted-to-be-a-star sympathy for him, which somehow makes him less worthy of this kind of attention.

No, Valentino was an astonishing stud on screen and a wuss off, the only compelling thing about him are the performances he left. Better to get a tape of "The Sheik" than to watch this.

The Swinger (1966)

Cheesy, teasy, bad movie.

[25 July 1999]

Dreadful sex farce that wishes it had the nerve to be soft-core.

Sixties starlet Ann-Margret plays an good-girl aspiring author who's determined to sell her stories to a girlie magazine, rather than one where people might read the text. It goes downhill from there, editor Tony Franciosa rejects her writing and asks her to pose semi-nude instead, and of course that makes her fall in love with him. And set out to convince him that she's enough of a slut to interest him, by doing things like letting some beefy guys dip her in paint and roll her around a canvas (an unforgettable scene), and pretend to be an alcoholic. So he kidnaps her and tries to rape her, and she runs home to mother (virtue intact) and they both die, and the film is reversed and they don't. I'm not making this up!

Amazingly bad in a very sixties way; if this was the sexual revolution give me the PC nineties.

King of Kings (1961)

Boring and badly cast

[25 July 1999]

The Hollywood community called this one "I Was A Teenage Jesus", thanks to the miscasting of Jeffrey Hunter in the leading role. He spends the entire movie with his big blue eyes raised to heaven, more to show off how big and blue they are than anything involving God.

Good Christians may pardon the moviemakers, it is reverential, but it's not a good movie. See "Ben Hur" or "The Ten Commandments" again if you want a good biblical film. Or even the min-iseries "Jesus of Nazareth" if you want a decent version of the New Testament.

Teenage Cave Man (1958)

One of Corman's worst films, and that's saying something!

[25 July 1999]

Made in two days, and even worse than you'd expect. It's not just bad, cheap, and miscast; it's really, really pretentious as well! It's about youthful rebellion and the horrors of atomic war, and the scriptwriter thinks it's all really deep, you know, heavy, man! (sound of snapping fingers)

Starring a young Robert Vaughn as a cave man, every hair slicked down and combed into place, looking like the "Man From UNCLE" in a fur dress and booties. Also features one of the worst monsters ever seen on screen.

Go see the original "Little Shop of Horrors" again to prove that a movie made in two days can actually be good!

Every Girl Should Be Married (1948)

Beware, Cary Grant fans

[25 July 1999]

Fans of my all-time fave rave may be tempted to watch this (especially as it co-stars Betsy Drake, the 3rd or 4th Mrs. Grant), but let me warn you away. It's supposed to be a comedy about a girl who wants to get married, and after much trouble and strife manages to catch Cary Grant, but there's so little comedy that the girl comes across as unbalanced rather than sympathetic. I mean, they didn't have the word "stalker" back then, but that's what she really is. It's more creepy than funny.