The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions (Decade Project Vol. 4)
-
Rayon Vert
- Green is the Rayest Color
- Joined: Wed Jan 08, 2014 10:52 pm
- Location: Canada
- Contact:
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
I haven't seen The Set-Up yet - it's next up on my noirs-to-watch, followed by Champion. If the former is as good or better than Body and Soul, then I'm really in for a good time.
-
domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
My favorite part of the Set-Up is that Alan Baxter’s antagonist is named Little Boy, and as ever, the more outwardly non-threatening the underworld nickname, the more dangerous the holder of it surely is. Recently saw Baxter as a drug pusher in the exploitation film Lila Leeds made after being arrested with Robert Mitchum for possession of pot, She Shoulda Said No! (1949). Leeds took a gamble and lost, as Mitchum’s “I don’t give a shit” approach to the arrest had longer legs than her capitulation to the supposed evils of the demon weed-- though of course she was just a minor contract player at the time (and, not being Mitchum, was fired) and only known beforehand (if even) for being the hott secretary Robert Montgomery / we the audience ogle in Lady in the Lake (1947):
There's a second-hand embarrassing moment in the finale of She Shoulda Said No! where Leeds delivers her big monologue to the audience and the film's producers just cut the sound and some dude narrates something else while we still see poor Leeds emoting with all her might. Needless to say, she never carried a film again...
And therewillbeblus is just making up for years of being on the forum and depriving us of his great insights. Who knows how many other wonderful voices we’re missing out on because they just lurk
Rayon Vert, no 40s Boxing Film Viewing Fest could be complete without the OG big daddy of them all, City for Conquest (1940), the film that launched one of the studio era's best actors, Arthur Kennedy, into the biz
There's a second-hand embarrassing moment in the finale of She Shoulda Said No! where Leeds delivers her big monologue to the audience and the film's producers just cut the sound and some dude narrates something else while we still see poor Leeds emoting with all her might. Needless to say, she never carried a film again...
And therewillbeblus is just making up for years of being on the forum and depriving us of his great insights. Who knows how many other wonderful voices we’re missing out on because they just lurk
Rayon Vert, no 40s Boxing Film Viewing Fest could be complete without the OG big daddy of them all, City for Conquest (1940), the film that launched one of the studio era's best actors, Arthur Kennedy, into the biz
-
nitin
- Joined: Sat Nov 08, 2014 6:49 am
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
From the 40s boxing films:
Body and Soul > City of a Conquest > The Set Up
Haven’t seen Champion or Gentleman Jim
Body and Soul > City of a Conquest > The Set Up
Haven’t seen Champion or Gentleman Jim
-
knives
- Joined: Sat Sep 06, 2008 6:49 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Gentleman Jim is a fun bit of silly. Definitely a film to take as a light fantasia.
-
therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Act of Violence: Easily Zinnemann at his best, precisely because he is willing to offer an atypical scenario for an audience willing to be challenged. We are presented with our protagonist, who has committed irreversible actions that are not only morally corrupt but have affected others, including one of the others we see onscreen, and he is our antagonist. He is assigned this role immediately because we don’t get the three-dimensional glimpses into his his character or any external material representations of a life he’s built. Deprived of a smiling face, we only know his one-note mission of revenge. Or are the roles reversed? Is the film about the antagonist, and is the protagonist lurking in the shadows? Is the boogeyman actually the good guy? These are only a handful of the questions presented for us in the first act and where the story takes us is far more interesting than reading these questions. Like the similarly dense Lifeboat, this film is also comfortable planting itself in flexible moral waters, showing us is what makes this idea special, not just because it wants to but because it remains confident and pulls it off.
Air Force: Another revisit that held up miles better on a second viewing, the pieces finally falling into suit with Hawks’ comfortable rhythm of accentuated comradery. The stakes are high but pulses are kept mostly simmering for its first half because of the ambiance of dedication and loyalty that signify safety and social support.
Hawks’ optimism in a singleminded value structure is a welcome relief in a decade full of bleak postwar noirs that magnify the divide between men and society, isolated from the energy present between people here. No knock to those noirs and those themes, for I love them dearly, but here’s the spark of the golden age of movies, and no one realizes an idea by way of mood onto the silver screen quite like Hawks. Call it propaganda if you want, but iconography doesn’t define Hawks, people do, and yet they are connected to their identities through the codes they live by, which are often categorized as nationalist in their loyalties. The ensemble of characters coexisting in a limited space is reminiscent of the incredible Only Angels Have Wings, and taking the time to hang out with these men, flesh out their backstories, dreams, ticks, idiosyncrasies, and personal hierarchy of values within the system that binds them together is always a pleasure.
And yet Hawks doesn’t shy away from lingering on the horrors of war as he sees fit, often bringing his characters out into the open, with carefully constructed sets chalk full of production highs, explosions shaking the camera and winds blowing people onto their backs. By emphasizing the seriousness of the challenge that the security of loyalty must contest with, Hawks underlines the reasons why it must remain sturdy in its discipline. It’s probably significant that these men face these challenges primarily in outside spaces, or at least with Hawks’ cameras shooting from this vantage point, in contrast to the comfortable lightness in the confines of the plane, that feel anything but claustrophobic due to the warmth and depth emitted by the group’s collective energy. However, even in these tense moments when our blood is at a boil, there’s no sense of jarring disruption of Hawks’ worldview into a different reality. His outlook is consistent and there is a sense of safety in the power of groups, brotherhood, and moral value that binds the individuals while other movies would allow it to (perhaps more ‘realistically’) expose this as a facade. It may be a facade, but Hawks sells it and sells it well, because we want to believe it and because the subjectivity of connectivity between our fellow man is one of the most sought after achievements to cherish, something that we want to see come as easily as it does to Hawks’ winners.
I’m not sure how this ranks amongst 40s Hawks, his second best decade after the 30s (I still haven’t forgiven myself for not participating in that list project, given that Twentieth Century, his best film, somehow needed my support and won’t be eligible for inclusion in my all time top 10 come 2026!) His Girl Friday is the perfect screwball comedy with a razor sharp script and capable actors going toe to toe with the pages, accomplishing what should be impossible. The Big Sleep is a personal favorite for the sheer fun of the story, a film I put just behind North By Northwest as one of the most entertaining films I’ve seen. Red River warrants a revisit because while I’ve always greatly admired it as a western I never fell in love with it as a film. Air Force, though, is the one that contains the magic of what Hawks does best and harnesses the passionate energy that dons him the hat of a master, and regardless of the film’s place in the ranks, that must be said for it. Action, drama, ambient hangout scenes, and humor all form a package that in undeniably why many of us love movies and why I gravitate toward the Old Hollywood pictures when craving a synchronized equilibrium of intelligence, technique, boosted mood and spectacle. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a better film in the genre of war
Roxie Hart: I forgot just how endearing and funny this farce is, but with Hecht’s sharp tongue stained throughout this film’s witty script at his creative peak for comedy, how could it not be? This film earns all 75 of its minutes, and the cast is clearly having a ball acting, overacting and interacting physically and verbally in every scene. A hidden gem in the decade.
Brief Encounter: After completely writing this off as a pretentious dud many years ago, it deserved a rewatch given the accolades here and elsewhere. I enjoyed it more, primarily for the performances especially and visual flourishes stressing expressions of devastating heartbreak. As a reflection on loss, this works because of Celia Johnson, who steals every frame with authentic and relatable facial tics, nervous hand gestures, and eyes that hold longing and defeat in unison, conflicted and pained. Howard provides a brightness in her otherwise dismal existence, and his facial and gross-motor mannerisms mirror her own as they fall deeper in love and clumsily tiptoe around how and when to give into or hold back their ids in each given moment, impossibly clawing to stop time and delay the inevitable. It’s a well-drawn depiction of the opportunities that present themselves throughout our lives, and the rare occurrence when we are able to awaken from our mechanical black and white routines to notice the colors. Beyond that, I can’t say I loved this, but I can now see a glimpse of why others do. Performances thrive and the photography is beautiful, and though the screenplay is probably where most of my reservations are rooted, the actors are able to sell their emotions so well it almost forgives the contrivances in story movement and unnatural poetic lines. However, the ending is a powerful and depressing meditation on the importance of endings and the robbery of the catharsis in rituals of finality. Perhaps this will ripen with age, as it walks a fine line between artificial artistic pretension and an earned emotional dance with pathos and passion. I’ll surely be revisiting it again sooner than this last hiatus and if one day it tips fully in the camp of the latter I won’t complain, and will happily join the love parade.
Bluebeard: Although I’ve seen some earlier Ulmer, as far as eligible films for this project Detour has been my only experience, which sadly dropped significantly in my impressions after a revisit following Criterion’s release. Not a bad film, but not the great noir I remembered, this anomalous treat helped recover that disappointment. A serial killer genre picture that reaches levels of haunting vibrancy more common in the precode 30s (I was reminded of The Black Cat and then remembered that was also Ulmer). Chilling and nasty, we thankfully spend a great deal of time with Carradine’s killer, but also the various women that populate his surroundings, all potential victims. Yet despite indications of innocence there’s a mysterious twinkle in each of them that instantly piques interest in every interaction, as if any one character might break all the rules and burn down the film. The unease that these people are capable of obstructing the rules of the game is only one twist Ulmer implements (intentionally or not) to keep us on edge, and the use of shadows and edits garnish suspense and impose qualities of horror and noir into this thriller. The print on the Alpha dvd is brutal and the sound is rough, but even through the haze the excellence was clear. A wonderful discovery that will surely lead me to seek more of Ulmer‘s work. Someone needs to restore this immediately.
Air Force: Another revisit that held up miles better on a second viewing, the pieces finally falling into suit with Hawks’ comfortable rhythm of accentuated comradery. The stakes are high but pulses are kept mostly simmering for its first half because of the ambiance of dedication and loyalty that signify safety and social support.
Hawks’ optimism in a singleminded value structure is a welcome relief in a decade full of bleak postwar noirs that magnify the divide between men and society, isolated from the energy present between people here. No knock to those noirs and those themes, for I love them dearly, but here’s the spark of the golden age of movies, and no one realizes an idea by way of mood onto the silver screen quite like Hawks. Call it propaganda if you want, but iconography doesn’t define Hawks, people do, and yet they are connected to their identities through the codes they live by, which are often categorized as nationalist in their loyalties. The ensemble of characters coexisting in a limited space is reminiscent of the incredible Only Angels Have Wings, and taking the time to hang out with these men, flesh out their backstories, dreams, ticks, idiosyncrasies, and personal hierarchy of values within the system that binds them together is always a pleasure.
And yet Hawks doesn’t shy away from lingering on the horrors of war as he sees fit, often bringing his characters out into the open, with carefully constructed sets chalk full of production highs, explosions shaking the camera and winds blowing people onto their backs. By emphasizing the seriousness of the challenge that the security of loyalty must contest with, Hawks underlines the reasons why it must remain sturdy in its discipline. It’s probably significant that these men face these challenges primarily in outside spaces, or at least with Hawks’ cameras shooting from this vantage point, in contrast to the comfortable lightness in the confines of the plane, that feel anything but claustrophobic due to the warmth and depth emitted by the group’s collective energy. However, even in these tense moments when our blood is at a boil, there’s no sense of jarring disruption of Hawks’ worldview into a different reality. His outlook is consistent and there is a sense of safety in the power of groups, brotherhood, and moral value that binds the individuals while other movies would allow it to (perhaps more ‘realistically’) expose this as a facade. It may be a facade, but Hawks sells it and sells it well, because we want to believe it and because the subjectivity of connectivity between our fellow man is one of the most sought after achievements to cherish, something that we want to see come as easily as it does to Hawks’ winners.
I’m not sure how this ranks amongst 40s Hawks, his second best decade after the 30s (I still haven’t forgiven myself for not participating in that list project, given that Twentieth Century, his best film, somehow needed my support and won’t be eligible for inclusion in my all time top 10 come 2026!) His Girl Friday is the perfect screwball comedy with a razor sharp script and capable actors going toe to toe with the pages, accomplishing what should be impossible. The Big Sleep is a personal favorite for the sheer fun of the story, a film I put just behind North By Northwest as one of the most entertaining films I’ve seen. Red River warrants a revisit because while I’ve always greatly admired it as a western I never fell in love with it as a film. Air Force, though, is the one that contains the magic of what Hawks does best and harnesses the passionate energy that dons him the hat of a master, and regardless of the film’s place in the ranks, that must be said for it. Action, drama, ambient hangout scenes, and humor all form a package that in undeniably why many of us love movies and why I gravitate toward the Old Hollywood pictures when craving a synchronized equilibrium of intelligence, technique, boosted mood and spectacle. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a better film in the genre of war
Roxie Hart: I forgot just how endearing and funny this farce is, but with Hecht’s sharp tongue stained throughout this film’s witty script at his creative peak for comedy, how could it not be? This film earns all 75 of its minutes, and the cast is clearly having a ball acting, overacting and interacting physically and verbally in every scene. A hidden gem in the decade.
Brief Encounter: After completely writing this off as a pretentious dud many years ago, it deserved a rewatch given the accolades here and elsewhere. I enjoyed it more, primarily for the performances especially and visual flourishes stressing expressions of devastating heartbreak. As a reflection on loss, this works because of Celia Johnson, who steals every frame with authentic and relatable facial tics, nervous hand gestures, and eyes that hold longing and defeat in unison, conflicted and pained. Howard provides a brightness in her otherwise dismal existence, and his facial and gross-motor mannerisms mirror her own as they fall deeper in love and clumsily tiptoe around how and when to give into or hold back their ids in each given moment, impossibly clawing to stop time and delay the inevitable. It’s a well-drawn depiction of the opportunities that present themselves throughout our lives, and the rare occurrence when we are able to awaken from our mechanical black and white routines to notice the colors. Beyond that, I can’t say I loved this, but I can now see a glimpse of why others do. Performances thrive and the photography is beautiful, and though the screenplay is probably where most of my reservations are rooted, the actors are able to sell their emotions so well it almost forgives the contrivances in story movement and unnatural poetic lines. However, the ending is a powerful and depressing meditation on the importance of endings and the robbery of the catharsis in rituals of finality. Perhaps this will ripen with age, as it walks a fine line between artificial artistic pretension and an earned emotional dance with pathos and passion. I’ll surely be revisiting it again sooner than this last hiatus and if one day it tips fully in the camp of the latter I won’t complain, and will happily join the love parade.
Bluebeard: Although I’ve seen some earlier Ulmer, as far as eligible films for this project Detour has been my only experience, which sadly dropped significantly in my impressions after a revisit following Criterion’s release. Not a bad film, but not the great noir I remembered, this anomalous treat helped recover that disappointment. A serial killer genre picture that reaches levels of haunting vibrancy more common in the precode 30s (I was reminded of The Black Cat and then remembered that was also Ulmer). Chilling and nasty, we thankfully spend a great deal of time with Carradine’s killer, but also the various women that populate his surroundings, all potential victims. Yet despite indications of innocence there’s a mysterious twinkle in each of them that instantly piques interest in every interaction, as if any one character might break all the rules and burn down the film. The unease that these people are capable of obstructing the rules of the game is only one twist Ulmer implements (intentionally or not) to keep us on edge, and the use of shadows and edits garnish suspense and impose qualities of horror and noir into this thriller. The print on the Alpha dvd is brutal and the sound is rough, but even through the haze the excellence was clear. A wonderful discovery that will surely lead me to seek more of Ulmer‘s work. Someone needs to restore this immediately.
Last edited by therewillbeblus on Thu Jul 25, 2019 12:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
I think the All Day Entertainment version of Bluebeard that David Kalat sourced from a French print is supposed to be the best one out there-- Without checking, one can assume that will never be said about an Alpha edition! -- it's the source I saw when I watched this recently, though I was similarly unimpressed as I was with revisiting Detour, even with improved visual fidelity. I'm not sure based on these and Black Cat that Ulmer even ranks as a competent director for me, but then again, there's a whole industry built around people believing Jess Franco is not the worst director of all time, so there are far more dire targets to receive undue reappraisal
Air Force is indeed great-- it made my Top 10 last time, it will surely do so again-- and I don't know if it's the best war film, but it's up there. Certainly it pales only to the untoppable savageness of Bataan (still the most shockingly brutal and gratuitously violent movie to ever come out of the studio era-- you only think I'm being typically hyperbolic if you haven't seen it) in its use of violence, especially in the finale, at least
Air Force is indeed great-- it made my Top 10 last time, it will surely do so again-- and I don't know if it's the best war film, but it's up there. Certainly it pales only to the untoppable savageness of Bataan (still the most shockingly brutal and gratuitously violent movie to ever come out of the studio era-- you only think I'm being typically hyperbolic if you haven't seen it) in its use of violence, especially in the finale, at least
-
therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Similar to Detour, which I first watched amidst a noir binge a few years back, I felt impressed by some idiosyncratic tweaks that were enough to excite me in the moment in a sea of paint-by-numbers genre entries. But like that film I wouldn’t be surprised if a second viewing removed those perceived eccentricities as strengths and placed them in mediocre limbo. Since these revisits and time to reflect is so crucial to forming valid impressions, I’ll be rewatching all the films in my provisional top 50 shortly to determine rank before lists are due. But this film isn’t going to make that list anyways so I probably won’t be testing those impressions anytime soon!
-
therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Well Bataan is available at my local library and on reserve for pickup tomorrow, thanks!domino harvey wrote: ↑Thu Jul 25, 2019 12:42 amAir Force is indeed great-- it made my Top 10 last time, it will surely do so again-- and I don't know if it's the best war film, but it's up there. Certainly it pales only to the untoppable savageness of Bataan (still the most shockingly brutal and gratuitously violent movie to ever come out of the studio era-- you only think I'm being typically hyperbolic if you haven't seen it) in its use of violence, especially in the finale, at least
-
domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Excellent! Here's my writeup of Bataan from the War List
You should see if they have So Proudly We Hail! too to make it a double feature of the best/most violent Bataan-set war-era films. My writeup from the same post as the abovedomino harvey wrote: ↑Sat Mar 15, 2014 3:13 pmBataan (Tay Garnett 1943) Hollywood war films made during wartime have one interesting attribute: they manage to outdo noir on fatalism and violence! Indeed, it's shocking to marathon some of these movies and realize just how much the Code loosened the reins during the period. And Bataan in particular is shockingly violent, even by today's standards. It is the most violent studio era film I have ever seen. Blood galore, decapitation, shots to the head, suicides, and one of the most unforgettable images in any war film: Robert Taylor, surrounded by dozens of Japanese corpses, revolving around in a circle firing hundreds of rounds into the lifeless bodies. Incredible! This is another of the Wake Island-school of no one's coming home war flicks, and this is even before the true nature of the horrors of Bataan were declassified. Good work from one of the many ragtag groups of men that populate these films, with special consideration given to the always reliable Lloyd Nolan as a man with a peculiar past with Taylor, and Robert Walker as the hapless young Navy sailor who somehow finds himself involved in jungle warfare.
domino harvey wrote: ↑Sat Mar 15, 2014 3:13 pm
So Proudly We Hail! (Mark Sandrich 1943) Female-centric Bataan-set nurses story with three strong female leads in Claudette Colbert, Paulette Goddard, and Veronica Lake as nurses who must navigate the extremely violent and dangerous professional calling. As indicated by my italics, this movie is surprisingly intense and bloody. I'd assumed going this would be a war-time Woman's Picture, and it is to some extent, but the film also captures an unrelenting brutality directed not just at those the main characters care for or about, but the main characters themselves. Paulette Goddard earned a Supporting Actress nom, but Veronica Lake gives by far the film's best performance in one of her best roles.SpoilerShowAnd her's is the film's most tragic and shocking component: From the intensity of her breakdown to the attempted murder of the Japanese wounded to the final, unexpected suicide halfway through the film, Lake works against everything the prevailing popular thought process on her as an actress and an icon tells you-- this is why you do your homework before writing off the decade's sex symbols!
-
ando
- Bringing Out El Duende
- Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2004 6:53 pm
- Location: New York City
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Have you seen Golen Gloves (1940, Edward Dmytryk)? On the hunt for copy now...
-
domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Starring James Cagney.... 's sister, and Robert Ryan in an early role! Wonder what nationality J Carrol Naish plays in this one
-
senseabove
- Joined: Wed Dec 02, 2015 3:07 am
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
I think I've been around long enough to start dipping my toes into these waters... Some recent re/watches:
Adam's Rib (1949): Cukor's glass closet is absolutely sparkling here—"You sound... like a man..." "Watch your language!"—as are Hepburn and Tracy; it's all good fun until some plot gets hurt, and it's still mostly fun then. The procedural of the two leads as married lawyers arguing opposite sides of Judy Holliday's attempted murder charge is great for making fun of proceduralness, but it's still procedural, which I guess can't always be funny. From seeing this in a charming double bill with Desk Set, I get the impression people just wanted to hang out with these two, and they didn't much care what they were doing or whether it made much sense. And I'm fine with that. Cukor got some good winks in, Hepburn got some good "causy" zingers in, and I hope I get to see Holliday in a role where she can really shine.
Brute Force (1947): A little let down by this one. The standout is Hume Cronyn as a prison guard with his eyes on the Warden's seat and a sadistic recipe to improve productivity, but most importantly, as a committed victim of Little Man Syndrome—it's an uncomplicated and sneakily memorable performance. Otherwise, the climactic battle is definitely memorably climactic, but the rest of it felt a little slight and verveless and the flash-backs especially felt incongruous and half-baked. I recently watched Richard Brook's Elmer Gantry and The Happy Ending, which put him firmly On My Radar, so seeing him as script-writer, plus the reputation this one has, maybe I was just played by my own expectations.
Hangmen Also Die! (1943): I've been watching a lot of Lang lately, and I have it in my head he just handles things better when the ideas are a little more abstracted. Naziism is too specific and overt an evil for Lang (though of course it feels stupid to say that it should be any less specific or overt a target in 2019). Maybe I should just be thankful this is as complex as it is for a propaganda film. But then there's that thoroughly unengaging performance from the lead, Anna Lee. I kept imagining what someone who could actually pull off the evolution from naiveté to principled duplicitousness would do... I think, on another go, when I'm able to accept and ignore the flaws and focus more on the successes, this will do better. Lang + James Wong Howe is, as expected, a powerhouse team, and at least as far as propaganda movies go, this is the most powerful resistance storyline I think I've ever seen. Where the will to defy is usually some sort of miracle of courage that we should all expect will grace us if we should find ourselves in such a situation, it's very convincingly and believably shown here as a virus spreading through the people, individuals demonstrating it for and inspiring it in others. So maybe I'm countering my own argument there—it's just Lang's evil that needs to be more abstract? I dunno. Either way, this is one I look forward to revisiting some day, but I don't know that I'll feel compelled to re-evaluate it for my own personal Lang-athon or this list.
Phantom Lady (1944): I loved this the first time around. I liked it a lot this second time, but I can't say it grew. Which is a perfectly fine thing for a film to (not) do, but, being only a few years into this interest in movies beyond those that just happens across my radar, as I'm seeing more and getting more opportunities for second rounds, it can be a mite disappointing when a movie is just about what it was the first time around and not more. However I felt, though, the middle section of Ella Raines on the hunt for information is still one of the best extended sequences in noir.
The Philadelphia Story (1940): Speaking of second times around and films that grow—this is just superb. I liked it the first time, but I loved it the second time. The patter is so quick, the interplay so charming, the small gags so delightful and the big setups so smooth that, first time around, I missed a lot of that quick patter and some of the more subtle development, like the stumbling self-realization that Hepburn carries through the whole ordeal, or the way Grant goads revelations into place with a magical blend of good will, puckishness, and blind hope that is still somehow not selfish or manipulative.
Adam's Rib (1949): Cukor's glass closet is absolutely sparkling here—"You sound... like a man..." "Watch your language!"—as are Hepburn and Tracy; it's all good fun until some plot gets hurt, and it's still mostly fun then. The procedural of the two leads as married lawyers arguing opposite sides of Judy Holliday's attempted murder charge is great for making fun of proceduralness, but it's still procedural, which I guess can't always be funny. From seeing this in a charming double bill with Desk Set, I get the impression people just wanted to hang out with these two, and they didn't much care what they were doing or whether it made much sense. And I'm fine with that. Cukor got some good winks in, Hepburn got some good "causy" zingers in, and I hope I get to see Holliday in a role where she can really shine.
Brute Force (1947): A little let down by this one. The standout is Hume Cronyn as a prison guard with his eyes on the Warden's seat and a sadistic recipe to improve productivity, but most importantly, as a committed victim of Little Man Syndrome—it's an uncomplicated and sneakily memorable performance. Otherwise, the climactic battle is definitely memorably climactic, but the rest of it felt a little slight and verveless and the flash-backs especially felt incongruous and half-baked. I recently watched Richard Brook's Elmer Gantry and The Happy Ending, which put him firmly On My Radar, so seeing him as script-writer, plus the reputation this one has, maybe I was just played by my own expectations.
Hangmen Also Die! (1943): I've been watching a lot of Lang lately, and I have it in my head he just handles things better when the ideas are a little more abstracted. Naziism is too specific and overt an evil for Lang (though of course it feels stupid to say that it should be any less specific or overt a target in 2019). Maybe I should just be thankful this is as complex as it is for a propaganda film. But then there's that thoroughly unengaging performance from the lead, Anna Lee. I kept imagining what someone who could actually pull off the evolution from naiveté to principled duplicitousness would do... I think, on another go, when I'm able to accept and ignore the flaws and focus more on the successes, this will do better. Lang + James Wong Howe is, as expected, a powerhouse team, and at least as far as propaganda movies go, this is the most powerful resistance storyline I think I've ever seen. Where the will to defy is usually some sort of miracle of courage that we should all expect will grace us if we should find ourselves in such a situation, it's very convincingly and believably shown here as a virus spreading through the people, individuals demonstrating it for and inspiring it in others. So maybe I'm countering my own argument there—it's just Lang's evil that needs to be more abstract? I dunno. Either way, this is one I look forward to revisiting some day, but I don't know that I'll feel compelled to re-evaluate it for my own personal Lang-athon or this list.
Phantom Lady (1944): I loved this the first time around. I liked it a lot this second time, but I can't say it grew. Which is a perfectly fine thing for a film to (not) do, but, being only a few years into this interest in movies beyond those that just happens across my radar, as I'm seeing more and getting more opportunities for second rounds, it can be a mite disappointing when a movie is just about what it was the first time around and not more. However I felt, though, the middle section of Ella Raines on the hunt for information is still one of the best extended sequences in noir.
The Philadelphia Story (1940): Speaking of second times around and films that grow—this is just superb. I liked it the first time, but I loved it the second time. The patter is so quick, the interplay so charming, the small gags so delightful and the big setups so smooth that, first time around, I missed a lot of that quick patter and some of the more subtle development, like the stumbling self-realization that Hepburn carries through the whole ordeal, or the way Grant goads revelations into place with a magical blend of good will, puckishness, and blind hope that is still somehow not selfish or manipulative.
-
senseabove
- Joined: Wed Dec 02, 2015 3:07 am
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Does anyone know an English-friendly source for Jacques Becker's Falbalas a.k.a. Paris Frills?
I'd like to revisit it for the list, but I only see a French DVD which I assume doesn't have English subs, and it isn't available through any back channels I have access to.
I'd like to revisit it for the list, but I only see a French DVD which I assume doesn't have English subs, and it isn't available through any back channels I have access to.
-
ando
- Bringing Out El Duende
- Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2004 6:53 pm
- Location: New York City
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
A couple I've recently watched:
Proud Valley (1940, Pen Tennyson)
Here we have a gifted, single and obviously virile black singer from New Jersey in the middle of a Welsh mining town looking for work. If he's not on the run he's got to be Paul Robeson. The story goes that he's tramping, hopping rail cars, singing for pence, and a little mine work if he can find it. He comes into a mining town that happens to have a vital amateur male choir who are in the middle of rehearsal. From the street he chimes in, is discovered and becomes a member, not only of the choir but of the union-less local miner contingency. You know where this is headed, right? And if you know anything about Robeson and his championship of human rights across the spectrum of world affairs then you know how this story will end. The glory of the film is Robeson himself; unadorned, unpolished and at the peak of his artistic power. What black actor since Robeson has matched such gravitas in film on presence and talent alone? Unfortunately, the rest of the film is a tepid depiction of the conditions in and around which the miners must work and live. It's, no doubt, deliberately generalized in order to provide the effect of a polemic without offending too many. But, aside from Robeson, who seems nearly always to be sacrificed in one way or another in these British films, it's forgettable.
Black Friday (1940, Arthur Lubin)
Ordered a copy of this one after a viewing (currently on YT). In it Boris Karloff plays a brain surgeon whose colleague and a big time mobster get their brains and bodies exchanged for reasons not altogether altruistic. This one is done with such panache given the (by then) hackneyed material and the actors have such fun with it that I could only applaud. The overdub/journal narrative approach works especially well and I've never seen Karloff as a smoother manipulator. Recommended.
Proud Valley (1940, Pen Tennyson)
Here we have a gifted, single and obviously virile black singer from New Jersey in the middle of a Welsh mining town looking for work. If he's not on the run he's got to be Paul Robeson. The story goes that he's tramping, hopping rail cars, singing for pence, and a little mine work if he can find it. He comes into a mining town that happens to have a vital amateur male choir who are in the middle of rehearsal. From the street he chimes in, is discovered and becomes a member, not only of the choir but of the union-less local miner contingency. You know where this is headed, right? And if you know anything about Robeson and his championship of human rights across the spectrum of world affairs then you know how this story will end. The glory of the film is Robeson himself; unadorned, unpolished and at the peak of his artistic power. What black actor since Robeson has matched such gravitas in film on presence and talent alone? Unfortunately, the rest of the film is a tepid depiction of the conditions in and around which the miners must work and live. It's, no doubt, deliberately generalized in order to provide the effect of a polemic without offending too many. But, aside from Robeson, who seems nearly always to be sacrificed in one way or another in these British films, it's forgettable.
Black Friday (1940, Arthur Lubin)
Ordered a copy of this one after a viewing (currently on YT). In it Boris Karloff plays a brain surgeon whose colleague and a big time mobster get their brains and bodies exchanged for reasons not altogether altruistic. This one is done with such panache given the (by then) hackneyed material and the actors have such fun with it that I could only applaud. The overdub/journal narrative approach works especially well and I've never seen Karloff as a smoother manipulator. Recommended.
-
senseabove
- Joined: Wed Dec 02, 2015 3:07 am
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
And some more obscure titles:
Twilight (1945, Julio Bracho): A Mexican B-movie melodramatic noir wherein a woman marries a man's best friend in order to be close to him because being together just wouldn't work but being apart wouldn't work either. Surprisingly, that doesn't go too well. The style here is as pronounced as the melodrama, told in flashback from the other side of attempted murders and dramatic thunderstorms and several anxiety-riddled emergency calls to a psychoanalyst. I don't know much about Mexican mid-century cinema other than I gather it's been getting a bit of a re-evaluation lately, and this felt interesting to me mostly because of its transposing Hollywood tropes to a different (non-Code bound) context. It was one in a series showing restorations of Bracho's work, and I do wish I could've seen the other movies, but this one didn't quite compel me to shuffle other plans to make them. Fingers crossed they'll end up as a feature on the Criterion Channel.
Come Live with Me (1941, Clarence Brown): With its "modern marriage" tropes and social problem feints at the start, this feels like a pre-code WB comedy that got punted down the road a decade and hastily whitewashed with MGM's wholesome family values. There are bums, but they're Republican nightmare-fuel, professional leeches drafting new recruits from the park benches they sleep on. Hedy Lamarr plays a refugee from Vienna, who's just so pretty and charming and desperate that the guy who comes to deport her gives her a few more days to get something sorted out. Unfortunately, she can't marry her married lover, a publisher. So after a meet-cute with penniless writer Stewart (who opted not to enroll in the aforementioned pro-bumming lessons), she pays him a stipend to marry her and not ask questions, stopping by only to deliver the check. Stewart, smitten, proposes and proposes and won't take $$$ for an answer. There's a delightful scene where Heddy's married beau and his wife and Stewart all talk the situation through as the plot of Stewart's novel, arguing over how it should end. The comedy curdles a bit by submitting Lamarr to Stewart's Stockholm syndrome tactic, kidnapping her to the country with a wise old Grandma embroidering wisdom in her free time and country-fried Heartland and the fireflies (the fireflies!) and whatnot, but Clarence Brown milks that MGM sheen for every penny and gets in some wonderfully clever shots. It's a mostly delightful, surprisingly risqué (if not for 1931, then for 1941) comedy, and Brown even manages to make the saccharine twist palatably charming by laying it on cleverly thick.
Intruder in the Dust (1949, Clarence Brown): Another Brown, coincidentally. This adaptation of a Faulkner tale of racism, shot on location in Oxford, Mississippi and surrounding areas, features Juano Hernández as a black man accused of murder, waiting in jail to see whether his claims of exonerating evidence can be corroborated before the mob gets to him. A young white boy ropes his lawyer uncle into helping Hernandez, not out of a sense of moral righteousness, but a strange sense of vengeful gratitude that arises from a surprisingly complex clash of innocence and racial politics. The story can be as lecturesome as you'd expect, and some of the performances, particularly the reluctant white lawyer, David Brian, are unpleasantly stilted, but those are balanced by some excellent supporting turns, notably Elizabeth Patterson as Miss Habersham, a willful elderly woman who helps with the late-night reconnaissance and stands guard in the jail door to delay the inevitable as long as possible. On the whole, it's notable for avoiding the usual caricaturesque representation of the South that the setting is normally saddled with, probably because it's so identified with a specific, real location, using locals as extras. Which isn't to say Mississippi comes off looking all that great. But it's refreshingly straight-forward and, on the whole, the platitudinization is filigree around a very interesting, stylized portrait. Looks like this was an also-ran in the last round, and that may be all it deserves in the end, but it's worth watching if only because Hernandez is given the space to turn out a relatively complex performance. (Is he given this much room anywhere else? I only know him from The Breaking Point.)
Twilight (1945, Julio Bracho): A Mexican B-movie melodramatic noir wherein a woman marries a man's best friend in order to be close to him because being together just wouldn't work but being apart wouldn't work either. Surprisingly, that doesn't go too well. The style here is as pronounced as the melodrama, told in flashback from the other side of attempted murders and dramatic thunderstorms and several anxiety-riddled emergency calls to a psychoanalyst. I don't know much about Mexican mid-century cinema other than I gather it's been getting a bit of a re-evaluation lately, and this felt interesting to me mostly because of its transposing Hollywood tropes to a different (non-Code bound) context. It was one in a series showing restorations of Bracho's work, and I do wish I could've seen the other movies, but this one didn't quite compel me to shuffle other plans to make them. Fingers crossed they'll end up as a feature on the Criterion Channel.
Come Live with Me (1941, Clarence Brown): With its "modern marriage" tropes and social problem feints at the start, this feels like a pre-code WB comedy that got punted down the road a decade and hastily whitewashed with MGM's wholesome family values. There are bums, but they're Republican nightmare-fuel, professional leeches drafting new recruits from the park benches they sleep on. Hedy Lamarr plays a refugee from Vienna, who's just so pretty and charming and desperate that the guy who comes to deport her gives her a few more days to get something sorted out. Unfortunately, she can't marry her married lover, a publisher. So after a meet-cute with penniless writer Stewart (who opted not to enroll in the aforementioned pro-bumming lessons), she pays him a stipend to marry her and not ask questions, stopping by only to deliver the check. Stewart, smitten, proposes and proposes and won't take $$$ for an answer. There's a delightful scene where Heddy's married beau and his wife and Stewart all talk the situation through as the plot of Stewart's novel, arguing over how it should end. The comedy curdles a bit by submitting Lamarr to Stewart's Stockholm syndrome tactic, kidnapping her to the country with a wise old Grandma embroidering wisdom in her free time and country-fried Heartland and the fireflies (the fireflies!) and whatnot, but Clarence Brown milks that MGM sheen for every penny and gets in some wonderfully clever shots. It's a mostly delightful, surprisingly risqué (if not for 1931, then for 1941) comedy, and Brown even manages to make the saccharine twist palatably charming by laying it on cleverly thick.
Intruder in the Dust (1949, Clarence Brown): Another Brown, coincidentally. This adaptation of a Faulkner tale of racism, shot on location in Oxford, Mississippi and surrounding areas, features Juano Hernández as a black man accused of murder, waiting in jail to see whether his claims of exonerating evidence can be corroborated before the mob gets to him. A young white boy ropes his lawyer uncle into helping Hernandez, not out of a sense of moral righteousness, but a strange sense of vengeful gratitude that arises from a surprisingly complex clash of innocence and racial politics. The story can be as lecturesome as you'd expect, and some of the performances, particularly the reluctant white lawyer, David Brian, are unpleasantly stilted, but those are balanced by some excellent supporting turns, notably Elizabeth Patterson as Miss Habersham, a willful elderly woman who helps with the late-night reconnaissance and stands guard in the jail door to delay the inevitable as long as possible. On the whole, it's notable for avoiding the usual caricaturesque representation of the South that the setting is normally saddled with, probably because it's so identified with a specific, real location, using locals as extras. Which isn't to say Mississippi comes off looking all that great. But it's refreshingly straight-forward and, on the whole, the platitudinization is filigree around a very interesting, stylized portrait. Looks like this was an also-ran in the last round, and that may be all it deserves in the end, but it's worth watching if only because Hernandez is given the space to turn out a relatively complex performance. (Is he given this much room anywhere else? I only know him from The Breaking Point.)
-
swo17
- Bloodthirsty Butcher
- Joined: Tue Apr 15, 2008 10:25 am
- Location: SLC, UT
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
I just wanna say, really great job with all the capsule reviews, guys. I wish I had that kind of energy.
-
therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Hitchcock revisits:
Saboteur: I adore Hitchcock’s adventure films (often a subgenre of “man on the run, trying to clear his name”) though this is far from my favorite. It has the imaginative setpieces, string of detailed side characters, and consistently moving script to keep its engine going, but takes itself far too seriously to make room for the warmth and humor I crave in this type of film (i.e. North By Northwest; To Catch a Thief). Those films have a more playful and lighter vibe while here the wartime spy elements and label of treason are taken with a mood of rigid intensity, a quality I admire more than I prefer. Part of the issue is that Cummings is no Cary Grant, and plays it too straight for my tastes. I still like this film a great deal, and the suspense succeeds because of the careful alignment with Cummings’s situation. Hitchcock is skilled at getting his audience to feel the emotions of his characters and the state of desperation sits in the pit of your stomach effectively throughout this saga. I’ve seen this film many times and I’ll probably see it many more, because it is fun and exciting, but bogged down with an unbalanced dramatic gravity/light touch ratio it's just not quite enough of either to make my final list.
Lifeboat: A claustrophobic extended one-act play creates a storm of grey waters in its desperate fight-or-flight schema. Hitchcock uses a limited mise-en-scène to explore the Hobbesian nature of reptilian brains collectively battling their executive functions as they pull away from society. Morals become flexible details to some that fall by the wayside of prioritizing safety and survival, while to others in the group they’re held onto to preserve the conscious, reinforcing sanity as survival of the spirit. This film expertly depicts group dynamics, from the processes of individuals fighting for their perspective against the crowd to groupthink mechanisms.
There are beautiful moments of characters just being, sharing themselves with one another, and others accepting this information and seeing angles of a person for seemingly the first time, only possible in this space absent of the distractions of individualistic society back on land. And then there is fear. Fear of the enemy, of dying, even of living for some characters; fear dominates the actions of the individuals and the group. Attempts at constructing a mini-society exposes the complexity of democracy, and the one-two punch of the conclusion, as characters act emotionally yet with polarizingly different behaviors toward two enemies (both threats yet acting only in the same humanistic language of survival as the rest of the crew), in and of itself presents moral relativism as the only truth we can point to.. a troubling conclusion and ultimately a failure of the many attempts to construct order. Another film I appreciate more than I love, though I do like it a lot, and I’m grateful for its existence as it’s statements are arguably the most significant in application to daily life than most of Hitchcock’s more entertaining works.
Rope: The last time I had seen this was probably in elementary school, so a period of more than two decades was enough to warrant a revisit. Similar to Lifeboat in scale, the experiment in technique is what gets the most attention, and perhaps it should, but I enjoyed the opportunity to be stuck in a room with two killers riding the highs and lows of the aftermath of a random killing for the purposes of exercising their own mastery in the world. Their antisocial qualities facilitate rationalization via selfish experimentation with the lives of others, test subjects in the movie of their lives. An interesting portrait of the dangers of classism mixed with intelligentsia, elite and educated bored privileged men, assuming intellectual superiority as a doctor’s note for their crimes. However, this describes a rush of excitement from the initial twenty minutes, for when the movie really starts I didn’t care so much for the interplay between all the characters at the party. The film runs out of steam not because Hitchcock or anyone fails but because the idea and story isn’t strong enough to fill 80 minutes. I like the way Stewart emasculates the killers’ philosophy by disowning his role in the end, revealing their actions as meaningless even in their own narcissistic aims, and rendering them impotent.
Suspicion: This is lower-tier Hitchcock for me, which doesn’t mean it’s bad, but any and all levels of perceived blandness are disappointing from an auteur who usually leaves no room for such a blasphemous thought. Fontaine is very good and is not undeserving of her statue, but the film has little else going for it, and any ‘psychological thriller suspense’ is lost on me. Grant has such a comforting and likeable screen presence that the central conception of forcing Fontaine and the audience to join in questioning his motives and morals is an effective idea. However this device didn’t sustain my attention this time, last time, or the first time I watched the film, as ultimately the stakes never felt as high as they should have and the personal crisis brought on by the discovery of the rug being pulled out from under you, not truly knowing one’s partner and being trapped with them, isn’t fleshed out or presented to be as dangerous as perhaps it should.
There is a lot of potential here, but I think part of the issue is that Grant’s behavior raises so many red flags outside of the possibility of being a murderer that I just didn’t care about the central plot, since regardless of this mystery she’s trapped in a terrible relationship. This film could have worked if the other warning signs and feelings of being ‘trapped in a rotten marriage’ had been explored more with the ‘is he or isn’t he’ murder plot slowly fading into the backdrop, or if Grant was presented with some kind features, naturally increasing audience investment on the murder mystery to determine his value. But because it sits in limbo and doesn’t take these risks the film winds up serviceable but with an ending that elicits nothing more than a soft shrug, for whether or not Grant is a murderer Fontaine should still seek out a divorce.
Rebecca, on the other hand, does everything right that Suspicion does wrong, in allowing Olivier to maintain cold tendencies but also glimpses of kindness to create an even level of ambiguity- a mysterious character we are invested in enough to place our stakes on the greater mystery. The allusions to the presence of his wife are felt so strongly throughout the picture that we are effectively haunted by her ghost just as each character is in their own personalized way, an effective use of character development as well as an accurate portrayal of the individualized processes of grief. This is a melodrama, but it’s also a thrilling ghost story and ultimately a social horror film about the effects others can have on us, leaving their mark in corrupting our trust and faith in those closest to us, spreading like a disease to affect the people we love long after they leave us. Performances need to work here to sell this idea and they do, but the pacing, music, eerie set design and lighting all work to create an atmosphere taunting us with increasing dread that continues long after the film ends.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith: I love ‘light’ Hitchcock and this film, his only true categorical screwball comedy, is excellent. I’ve always liked the film but it grows on me with each rewatch, and this time I laughed harder than ever, especially at the first act’s gags (the entire restaurant sequence, but especially the preoccupation with the cat and the choice to stare back at the kids, had me roaring). Watching this always makes me wonder why Hitchcock never did another pure comedy, but it’s not like he didn’t deliver more consistently in adventures, thrillers, and horrors than anyone else for the next few decades, so I’m not complaining. Still, the success of the gags presented here aren’t rooted in a funny script or silly actors (not that these elements aren’t successful as well!), but the ones that really work are contingent on strong direction in the timing and staging, and Hitchcock shows the chops to direct his actors to deliver on the screwball like the best of them. Not bad for a one-off.
Shadow of a Doubt: I never understood why so many considered this up there with the best of Hitchcock until this viewing, and boy is it wonderful. Forfeiting expectations is key in soaking up the technical prowess and thematic interest here. Rather than a twist, we get a twisted dynamic, and a juxtaposition between nuclear family life, trusting community members, overall societal virtue, and the evil lurking not in the darkness of shadows but right out in the open light, with as much romantic exuberance as cynical bite.
Wright and Cotton are both excellent, with Cotton playing the charming sociopath, supremely confident in his outlook, kind to those with who he needs to be when he wants something in a conniving yet convincing manner. Balancing these sides to himself, switching moods as it serves him, are all triggered by the responses of his co-stars, sometimes via verbal cues but also their nonverbal mannerisms. It takes constant attention and tight focus to react so smoothly here, and Cotton plays a tough part in making this process of keen awareness seem so effortless. Wright has a difficult role too in that the film only really works if she is convincing in her awakening of the world’s evils, in a short runtime without coming off as contrived or inauthentic. In order to portray the act of ‘growing up,’ Wright has to slowly build her suspicions in this process where a single-minded innocent begins to question her worldview, and she nails it where many would fail.
The shots of the dancing ladies always present in Cotton’s thoughts are haunting, and after they appear twice in scenes over him, they emerge outside of his mind in a scene with only Wright, having transitioned from his psyche into hers and ours, freeing this horror into the atmosphere. Equally as stirring is his dinner table speech, nonchalantly declaring his antisocial beliefs, offsetting the innocence in the father and neighbor playfully talking about the perfect murder. This dualism is everywhere: Charlie embodies the cynical, or rather realist, view of the world, while the rest of this town represents optimism, bordering on naïveté, and idealism. It’s significant that young Charlie never suspects her uncle until an outside force of realism in the form of her detective-suitor plants a seed that disrupts her pink cloud of idealism. She has been raised to not only value this unconditional trust, but even more powerfully it is her only blueprint, a single tool, to view the world, especially regarding the ideological state apparatus of ‘family,’ blind to the dangers of the world or supposedly even the notion that there could even be danger. Charlie’s actions may be ‘wrong’ but his worldview isn’t, though the film allows for a blend between these perspectives. Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you’re right in the totality of your perspective. Also of note is uncle Charlie’s sister, young Charlie’s mother, breaking down in sadness at the distance that has come between her and her brother. The breaking of the idealist family unit yes, but this is also indicating something more truthful in the inevitable corruption or loss that people experience as they age and grow up, something Wright begins to experience in her loss of innocence. However here loss can be attributed to the people who float in and then out of our lives due to happenstance or growing apart for any number of reasons, affecting all parties with an absence of tangible explanation, the inescapable price for participation in the world.
This film plays as the most ‘Lynchian’ Hitchcock, though with a very important difference: as opposed to the jarring switch from good and evil co-existing anxiously in Lynch’s worlds, never has a film elicited such a harmonious reflection on the symbiosis of these elements to life as the Hitchcock. I understand the purpose to Lynch’s to be different in its aims, but this understanding and spiritual acceptance of these elements not competing but existing side by side is both comforting and terrifying, and the fact that the film is so lovely throughout this dancing act of integration amplifies both feelings to their polar limits, while allowing them to exist in the same world.
Notorious: Everything about this film is perfect. I don’t need to review all that Hitchcock does with his form to make his films perfect, so I’ll keep my focus on the acting and Hecht’s script, which is one of the most glaring examples of the ‘drop us in on the action’ elements that eliminates any fat in unnecessary set-up and starts the suspense immediately despite no apparent risk in the story or moody vibe in any other department to elicit this sensation, not even the score. Hitchcock’s confidence in the script paired with his own direction and the editing process would be that of a cocky madman if he hadn’t earned his status as master of cinema. I love Grant’s hybrid persona of mysterious allure and romantic, and Bergman’s fish out of water who has far more intelligence and attractive personality than the typical archetype, thereby together crushing any categorizations and becoming characters we love before we even know them.
Okay, one mention of form: there is a scene when Grant presents Bergman with a situation that briefly disrupts their romance and her trust in him. She eventually accepts this solemnly while pulling away and the only cinematic language used to convey the complexity of the damage to this dynamic is that Bergman moves behind a window and the camera, from Grant’s point of view, sees her from this focal point as she re-engages in the conversation, not bitterly or apathetically but defeated and heartbroken. This feels like a minor scene in the context of the thriller, and not even one of the most often analyzed in this film, but I can’t think of a better example out there of actors and technique achieving such a powerful fusion.
The places the film goes from here are only in one direction, upwards toward the clouds of the possibilities of story and character when fused together with careful methodology. Is this Hitchcock’s best of the 40s? It’s right up there with Rebecca and Shadow of a Doubt, so flip a three sided coin or pick a mood, and there’s the answer. It’s hard to beat, or rank, the perfect. I will say that as far as thematic interest, this takes the cake on presenting a mature vision of love, romance, and the complicated psychology of trust, perhaps the most delicate and valuable sociological enigma the director ever attempted to dissect.
I won’t be revisiting Under Capricorn or The Paradine Case as they have no chance of making my list. I did unfortunately decide to revisit Spellbound and all I have to say is that it was just as irritating a picture as when I saw it the first time. I have a soft spot for Foreign Correspondent (all of Hitchcock’s “adventure” films really, including Saboteur) and the midpoint setpiece in the windmill is so well-crafted that I want this film to make the cut just for that, but it shouldn’t and it won’t.
Saboteur: I adore Hitchcock’s adventure films (often a subgenre of “man on the run, trying to clear his name”) though this is far from my favorite. It has the imaginative setpieces, string of detailed side characters, and consistently moving script to keep its engine going, but takes itself far too seriously to make room for the warmth and humor I crave in this type of film (i.e. North By Northwest; To Catch a Thief). Those films have a more playful and lighter vibe while here the wartime spy elements and label of treason are taken with a mood of rigid intensity, a quality I admire more than I prefer. Part of the issue is that Cummings is no Cary Grant, and plays it too straight for my tastes. I still like this film a great deal, and the suspense succeeds because of the careful alignment with Cummings’s situation. Hitchcock is skilled at getting his audience to feel the emotions of his characters and the state of desperation sits in the pit of your stomach effectively throughout this saga. I’ve seen this film many times and I’ll probably see it many more, because it is fun and exciting, but bogged down with an unbalanced dramatic gravity/light touch ratio it's just not quite enough of either to make my final list.
Lifeboat: A claustrophobic extended one-act play creates a storm of grey waters in its desperate fight-or-flight schema. Hitchcock uses a limited mise-en-scène to explore the Hobbesian nature of reptilian brains collectively battling their executive functions as they pull away from society. Morals become flexible details to some that fall by the wayside of prioritizing safety and survival, while to others in the group they’re held onto to preserve the conscious, reinforcing sanity as survival of the spirit. This film expertly depicts group dynamics, from the processes of individuals fighting for their perspective against the crowd to groupthink mechanisms.
There are beautiful moments of characters just being, sharing themselves with one another, and others accepting this information and seeing angles of a person for seemingly the first time, only possible in this space absent of the distractions of individualistic society back on land. And then there is fear. Fear of the enemy, of dying, even of living for some characters; fear dominates the actions of the individuals and the group. Attempts at constructing a mini-society exposes the complexity of democracy, and the one-two punch of the conclusion, as characters act emotionally yet with polarizingly different behaviors toward two enemies (both threats yet acting only in the same humanistic language of survival as the rest of the crew), in and of itself presents moral relativism as the only truth we can point to.. a troubling conclusion and ultimately a failure of the many attempts to construct order. Another film I appreciate more than I love, though I do like it a lot, and I’m grateful for its existence as it’s statements are arguably the most significant in application to daily life than most of Hitchcock’s more entertaining works.
Rope: The last time I had seen this was probably in elementary school, so a period of more than two decades was enough to warrant a revisit. Similar to Lifeboat in scale, the experiment in technique is what gets the most attention, and perhaps it should, but I enjoyed the opportunity to be stuck in a room with two killers riding the highs and lows of the aftermath of a random killing for the purposes of exercising their own mastery in the world. Their antisocial qualities facilitate rationalization via selfish experimentation with the lives of others, test subjects in the movie of their lives. An interesting portrait of the dangers of classism mixed with intelligentsia, elite and educated bored privileged men, assuming intellectual superiority as a doctor’s note for their crimes. However, this describes a rush of excitement from the initial twenty minutes, for when the movie really starts I didn’t care so much for the interplay between all the characters at the party. The film runs out of steam not because Hitchcock or anyone fails but because the idea and story isn’t strong enough to fill 80 minutes. I like the way Stewart emasculates the killers’ philosophy by disowning his role in the end, revealing their actions as meaningless even in their own narcissistic aims, and rendering them impotent.
Suspicion: This is lower-tier Hitchcock for me, which doesn’t mean it’s bad, but any and all levels of perceived blandness are disappointing from an auteur who usually leaves no room for such a blasphemous thought. Fontaine is very good and is not undeserving of her statue, but the film has little else going for it, and any ‘psychological thriller suspense’ is lost on me. Grant has such a comforting and likeable screen presence that the central conception of forcing Fontaine and the audience to join in questioning his motives and morals is an effective idea. However this device didn’t sustain my attention this time, last time, or the first time I watched the film, as ultimately the stakes never felt as high as they should have and the personal crisis brought on by the discovery of the rug being pulled out from under you, not truly knowing one’s partner and being trapped with them, isn’t fleshed out or presented to be as dangerous as perhaps it should.
There is a lot of potential here, but I think part of the issue is that Grant’s behavior raises so many red flags outside of the possibility of being a murderer that I just didn’t care about the central plot, since regardless of this mystery she’s trapped in a terrible relationship. This film could have worked if the other warning signs and feelings of being ‘trapped in a rotten marriage’ had been explored more with the ‘is he or isn’t he’ murder plot slowly fading into the backdrop, or if Grant was presented with some kind features, naturally increasing audience investment on the murder mystery to determine his value. But because it sits in limbo and doesn’t take these risks the film winds up serviceable but with an ending that elicits nothing more than a soft shrug, for whether or not Grant is a murderer Fontaine should still seek out a divorce.
Rebecca, on the other hand, does everything right that Suspicion does wrong, in allowing Olivier to maintain cold tendencies but also glimpses of kindness to create an even level of ambiguity- a mysterious character we are invested in enough to place our stakes on the greater mystery. The allusions to the presence of his wife are felt so strongly throughout the picture that we are effectively haunted by her ghost just as each character is in their own personalized way, an effective use of character development as well as an accurate portrayal of the individualized processes of grief. This is a melodrama, but it’s also a thrilling ghost story and ultimately a social horror film about the effects others can have on us, leaving their mark in corrupting our trust and faith in those closest to us, spreading like a disease to affect the people we love long after they leave us. Performances need to work here to sell this idea and they do, but the pacing, music, eerie set design and lighting all work to create an atmosphere taunting us with increasing dread that continues long after the film ends.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith: I love ‘light’ Hitchcock and this film, his only true categorical screwball comedy, is excellent. I’ve always liked the film but it grows on me with each rewatch, and this time I laughed harder than ever, especially at the first act’s gags (the entire restaurant sequence, but especially the preoccupation with the cat and the choice to stare back at the kids, had me roaring). Watching this always makes me wonder why Hitchcock never did another pure comedy, but it’s not like he didn’t deliver more consistently in adventures, thrillers, and horrors than anyone else for the next few decades, so I’m not complaining. Still, the success of the gags presented here aren’t rooted in a funny script or silly actors (not that these elements aren’t successful as well!), but the ones that really work are contingent on strong direction in the timing and staging, and Hitchcock shows the chops to direct his actors to deliver on the screwball like the best of them. Not bad for a one-off.
Shadow of a Doubt: I never understood why so many considered this up there with the best of Hitchcock until this viewing, and boy is it wonderful. Forfeiting expectations is key in soaking up the technical prowess and thematic interest here. Rather than a twist, we get a twisted dynamic, and a juxtaposition between nuclear family life, trusting community members, overall societal virtue, and the evil lurking not in the darkness of shadows but right out in the open light, with as much romantic exuberance as cynical bite.
Wright and Cotton are both excellent, with Cotton playing the charming sociopath, supremely confident in his outlook, kind to those with who he needs to be when he wants something in a conniving yet convincing manner. Balancing these sides to himself, switching moods as it serves him, are all triggered by the responses of his co-stars, sometimes via verbal cues but also their nonverbal mannerisms. It takes constant attention and tight focus to react so smoothly here, and Cotton plays a tough part in making this process of keen awareness seem so effortless. Wright has a difficult role too in that the film only really works if she is convincing in her awakening of the world’s evils, in a short runtime without coming off as contrived or inauthentic. In order to portray the act of ‘growing up,’ Wright has to slowly build her suspicions in this process where a single-minded innocent begins to question her worldview, and she nails it where many would fail.
The shots of the dancing ladies always present in Cotton’s thoughts are haunting, and after they appear twice in scenes over him, they emerge outside of his mind in a scene with only Wright, having transitioned from his psyche into hers and ours, freeing this horror into the atmosphere. Equally as stirring is his dinner table speech, nonchalantly declaring his antisocial beliefs, offsetting the innocence in the father and neighbor playfully talking about the perfect murder. This dualism is everywhere: Charlie embodies the cynical, or rather realist, view of the world, while the rest of this town represents optimism, bordering on naïveté, and idealism. It’s significant that young Charlie never suspects her uncle until an outside force of realism in the form of her detective-suitor plants a seed that disrupts her pink cloud of idealism. She has been raised to not only value this unconditional trust, but even more powerfully it is her only blueprint, a single tool, to view the world, especially regarding the ideological state apparatus of ‘family,’ blind to the dangers of the world or supposedly even the notion that there could even be danger. Charlie’s actions may be ‘wrong’ but his worldview isn’t, though the film allows for a blend between these perspectives. Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you’re right in the totality of your perspective. Also of note is uncle Charlie’s sister, young Charlie’s mother, breaking down in sadness at the distance that has come between her and her brother. The breaking of the idealist family unit yes, but this is also indicating something more truthful in the inevitable corruption or loss that people experience as they age and grow up, something Wright begins to experience in her loss of innocence. However here loss can be attributed to the people who float in and then out of our lives due to happenstance or growing apart for any number of reasons, affecting all parties with an absence of tangible explanation, the inescapable price for participation in the world.
This film plays as the most ‘Lynchian’ Hitchcock, though with a very important difference: as opposed to the jarring switch from good and evil co-existing anxiously in Lynch’s worlds, never has a film elicited such a harmonious reflection on the symbiosis of these elements to life as the Hitchcock. I understand the purpose to Lynch’s to be different in its aims, but this understanding and spiritual acceptance of these elements not competing but existing side by side is both comforting and terrifying, and the fact that the film is so lovely throughout this dancing act of integration amplifies both feelings to their polar limits, while allowing them to exist in the same world.
Notorious: Everything about this film is perfect. I don’t need to review all that Hitchcock does with his form to make his films perfect, so I’ll keep my focus on the acting and Hecht’s script, which is one of the most glaring examples of the ‘drop us in on the action’ elements that eliminates any fat in unnecessary set-up and starts the suspense immediately despite no apparent risk in the story or moody vibe in any other department to elicit this sensation, not even the score. Hitchcock’s confidence in the script paired with his own direction and the editing process would be that of a cocky madman if he hadn’t earned his status as master of cinema. I love Grant’s hybrid persona of mysterious allure and romantic, and Bergman’s fish out of water who has far more intelligence and attractive personality than the typical archetype, thereby together crushing any categorizations and becoming characters we love before we even know them.
Okay, one mention of form: there is a scene when Grant presents Bergman with a situation that briefly disrupts their romance and her trust in him. She eventually accepts this solemnly while pulling away and the only cinematic language used to convey the complexity of the damage to this dynamic is that Bergman moves behind a window and the camera, from Grant’s point of view, sees her from this focal point as she re-engages in the conversation, not bitterly or apathetically but defeated and heartbroken. This feels like a minor scene in the context of the thriller, and not even one of the most often analyzed in this film, but I can’t think of a better example out there of actors and technique achieving such a powerful fusion.
The places the film goes from here are only in one direction, upwards toward the clouds of the possibilities of story and character when fused together with careful methodology. Is this Hitchcock’s best of the 40s? It’s right up there with Rebecca and Shadow of a Doubt, so flip a three sided coin or pick a mood, and there’s the answer. It’s hard to beat, or rank, the perfect. I will say that as far as thematic interest, this takes the cake on presenting a mature vision of love, romance, and the complicated psychology of trust, perhaps the most delicate and valuable sociological enigma the director ever attempted to dissect.
I won’t be revisiting Under Capricorn or The Paradine Case as they have no chance of making my list. I did unfortunately decide to revisit Spellbound and all I have to say is that it was just as irritating a picture as when I saw it the first time. I have a soft spot for Foreign Correspondent (all of Hitchcock’s “adventure” films really, including Saboteur) and the midpoint setpiece in the windmill is so well-crafted that I want this film to make the cut just for that, but it shouldn’t and it won’t.
-
Rayon Vert
- Green is the Rayest Color
- Joined: Wed Jan 08, 2014 10:52 pm
- Location: Canada
- Contact:
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
They Came to a City (Dearden 1944). Ealing goes socialist. Priestley’s play sets nine British characters that are class or type representatives in an abstract setting (picture the monochrome part of A Matter of Life and Death as the whole movie, but even more schematic) where they glimpse and visit for a day – off camera - a socialist paradise and we witness their conflicting but predictable responses. Kind of a perfect specimen to illustrate bad political art, the ending laughably bad. Cinematically it’s fairly a stage-bound dead-end also. Somehow though, sitting through this wasn’t entirely painful and was somewhat of an interestingly odd historical piece.
The Late George Apley (Mankiewicz 1947). Ronald Colman is a narrow-minded member of the 1910s Bostonian upper crust who is forced to reconsider his attitudes when his children decide to marry common out-of-towners. Domino has brought this film up now and then. It has a likeable quality because Apley and the way Colman plays him isn’t smug and there’s an overall gentle tone to the way the story and the satire is handled. On the other hand, the corollary is that the potential drama is a bit undercut and the charm and color aren’t strong enough to completely compensate for that.
Cry of the City (Siodmak 1948). Victor Mature is the detective but the film perhaps follows even more so Richard Conte, who’s definitely a villain but three-dimensional, almost but not quite sympathetic. Loaned out to Fox, this is more of a quasi-documentary noir but filmed with the Siodmak’s usual confident visual sense, and featuring interesting story elements and solid acting. The Italian-American background, those various memorable female characters leading up to the surprising masseuse, it all adds up to a stand-out work, and I easily rank it among the director’s best.
The Late George Apley (Mankiewicz 1947). Ronald Colman is a narrow-minded member of the 1910s Bostonian upper crust who is forced to reconsider his attitudes when his children decide to marry common out-of-towners. Domino has brought this film up now and then. It has a likeable quality because Apley and the way Colman plays him isn’t smug and there’s an overall gentle tone to the way the story and the satire is handled. On the other hand, the corollary is that the potential drama is a bit undercut and the charm and color aren’t strong enough to completely compensate for that.
Cry of the City (Siodmak 1948). Victor Mature is the detective but the film perhaps follows even more so Richard Conte, who’s definitely a villain but three-dimensional, almost but not quite sympathetic. Loaned out to Fox, this is more of a quasi-documentary noir but filmed with the Siodmak’s usual confident visual sense, and featuring interesting story elements and solid acting. The Italian-American background, those various memorable female characters leading up to the surprising masseuse, it all adds up to a stand-out work, and I easily rank it among the director’s best.
-
NABOB OF NOWHERE
- Joined: Thu Sep 01, 2005 12:30 pm
- Location: Brandywine River
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
The reveal of the masseuse is genius.Rayon Vert wrote: ↑Sun Jul 28, 2019 12:47 am
Cry of the City [/b](Siodmak 1948). [/color]Victor Mature is the detective but the film perhaps follows even more so Richard Conte, who’s definitely a villain but three-dimensional, almost but not quite sympathetic. Loaned out to Fox, this is more of a quasi-documentary noir but filmed with the Siodmak’s usual confident visual sense, and featuring interesting story elements and solid acting. The Italian-American background, those various memorable female characters leading up to the surprising masseuse, it all adds up to a stand-out work, and I easily rank it among the director’s best.
-
Rayon Vert
- Green is the Rayest Color
- Joined: Wed Jan 08, 2014 10:52 pm
- Location: Canada
- Contact:
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Yeah that really comes out of left field.
-
ando
- Bringing Out El Duende
- Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2004 6:53 pm
- Location: New York City
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Black Angel (1946, Roy William Neill)
Based on a murder mystery novel by Cornell Woolrich, I can certainly see why the author hated the treatment, especially the ending. Up to the final five minutes, however, this noir is long on style and understatement, and considering star, Dan Duryea's penchant to chew scenery in moments of high tension, he's mostly (and gratefully) on low simmer. He plays a songwriter and husband of a slain singer who helps the wife of the man convicted of the crime to discover the murderer. All the actors, including a bored but game Peter Loree, provide the requisite emotional demands of their roles. At the heart of it all is the attraction between Duryea and the wife, played by June Vincent. Or is it Duyea's thing for emotionally unavailable sirens? Course, this is never explored but is the key to everything. And, despite the flimsy ending, it's charmingly told in what would be the last film in the long career of director, Neil.
Based on a murder mystery novel by Cornell Woolrich, I can certainly see why the author hated the treatment, especially the ending. Up to the final five minutes, however, this noir is long on style and understatement, and considering star, Dan Duryea's penchant to chew scenery in moments of high tension, he's mostly (and gratefully) on low simmer. He plays a songwriter and husband of a slain singer who helps the wife of the man convicted of the crime to discover the murderer. All the actors, including a bored but game Peter Loree, provide the requisite emotional demands of their roles. At the heart of it all is the attraction between Duryea and the wife, played by June Vincent. Or is it Duyea's thing for emotionally unavailable sirens? Course, this is never explored but is the key to everything. And, despite the flimsy ending, it's charmingly told in what would be the last film in the long career of director, Neil.
-
therewillbeblus
- Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Children of Paradise: I’m really enjoying this project for the amount of “classics” that once left me cold growing in esteem, and this can be added to that list. It’s a beautifully shot film, with difficult sweeping shots and impressive close-up and medium shots from creative angles. The camera captures marvels with incredible technical prowess, reminiscent of Mank, Ophüls, and Renoir in its understanding of physical space and how to best manipulate the image to create the optimal effect. Though what makes this film work so well beyond this visual craft is the writing, which is at times humorous and humble, and at others lavish, poetic, and bold. The extremities of its range occur at precisely the right times, and timing is everything here, just like in the shows performed within. The actors deliver on these lines by inhabiting their characters deeply, becoming them, especially Arletty, who plays a difficult role in a character that could be more difficult to respect or appreciate but she pulls it off by exuding independence, confidence and honesty to herself. Jean-Louis Barrault is the other standout, resembling a French Buster Keaton with his stone face, only requiring subtle manipulation to convey the most intense emotions. The film plays like a dance to a symphony, and it’s difficult not to be whisked away by it, if for nothing else than to be entranced by a film with such a confident comprehension of film language and cinematic power.
Ruthless: Another Ulmer, but this one didn’t work for me. The acting was often pretty painful, and while the premise appeared intriguing at first, by the half hour mark it was already showing its wear and uneven sides. Occasionally Ulmer stepped up his game and regained control with well pieced together mini-scenes, only to let the elements slip again. I liked parts of this, but a constant process of being drawn in with investment only to be pushed out with frustration and apathy was tiresome. I didn’t really care about the story once it got going and the early childhood memory of capitalist advice that triggers our lead’s character development wasn’t believable to say the least. I can’t figure Ulmer out, because at times he’s able to film a strong scene, utilizing form appropriately, but then within the same scene or the next scene he will frame the action in ways that diffuse any power the actors and script are trying to express. Domino posed a question of his competence and while I’d like to believe he has talent, and that the elements that ‘work’ aren’t due solely to his crew, it’s starting to look that way.
Monsieur Verdoux: I like Chaplin and I like Chaplin’s talkies, but the effusive praise for this one has always escaped me. There are scenes in this black comedy that provide laughs and work in their execution, but two hours is too long as the ideas become a bit stale over time. There’s an unevenness to many of the films in Chaplin’s post-silent era and their long runtimes don’t help sustain the mood, especially in this repetitive tale. Still, it is charming, funny, and interesting as a project, even if all the ideas don’t become realised as effectively in the end. A second viewing didn’t do much to change my impressions but those impressions weren’t negative to begin with, so it’s an effective revisit in that my thoughts are sustained and placement (or rather non-placement) on my list has been measured. Also, watching Chaplin suavely court and then murder people is simply a delight, at least for a while.
Strawberry Blonde: High energy and hilarious, Cagney works his usual charisma and lets supporting characters steal scenes depending on where the script places the opportunity for the strongest delivery. The material and actors are all capable and willing to collaborate cohesively to create something magical. Running gags such as squaring up to fight in each minor conflict and the dentistry practice, in everything from linguistic jokes to physical comedy setpieces, materialize as comedic gold and work far better than they should or would with different parts attempting their execution. The romance itself is also effective and the female actors demonstrate a range of talents on par with Cagney and his crew in both the funny and in selling themselves as honest and true people, creating an energetic connectivity missing from many romantic comedies of the era. The path the film takes to the happy ending through shrugging off schadenfreude to reach the conclusion nonchalantly is subtly hysterical. This is a winner on all fronts.
The 7th Victim: I’ve seen this film so many times I’ve lost count, including several since writing thoughts in this thread. I wasn’t going to post anything about it because several people on this forum have written long and terrific analyses (I know Cold Bishop wrote one in the last 40s thread, I think it was Satori who wrote one in the All-Time thread, and I forget where and who else did! Nor do I know how to link these..) - however, since no one has written anything yet in this thread, I feel the need to write, simply, that I am in the camp that loves this film. It will unquestionably make my top 10, probably top 5, for the decade.
I’ll concede that this doesn’t work as a horror film, a film noir, a romance, or a thriller on its own. It works as an eclectic mix of all of these genres and more, to create a subtly piercing mood piece on existential isolation, the supreme type of horror, the noir-like fatalistic presentation of inescapable division from others, the impossibility of true romance because of individualistic selfish priorities. Navigating through spaces and with people that separate themselves and push others away signifies the principles of exclusion inherent in this society and the futility of attempting authentic connection.
I agree with many that the satanic cult is not scary in the traditional sense, and quite lame in many respects on the surface. However, their apathetic attitude toward Jacqueline and by extension their fellow man, is more frightening than any monster or otherworldly cult could be in its implications of an absence of worth in another human being in this individualistic culture, urging another person to kill themselves with no emotion. Even the sisterly relationship highlights how vulnerable people are and how easily we can become unknown to even those who know us best, if it’s even briefly possible to achieve that much connection, or to discover objective truth in knowledge or meaning.
A lot of utility has been placed on the final shot (and sound) and how dark this ending is, especially for the time of the production code era. The ending is dark but the significance is that this is where and how it ends. Rather than on the characters who we’ve been following as surrogates during the story (the ‘innocent,’ ‘heroic,’ ‘moral,’ and ‘incorruptible’) we get to see Jacqueline. But alas we don’t even get to see her in the final frame! We hear her from behind the door to her apartment, as distanced from our characters as we possibly could be, the primary narrative abandoned and we not even allowed a final glimpse into our secondary character arc with which we have investment. This tactic separates us from our own connection to anyone and anything we’ve placed subjective value on to, this disconnect as a central theme of the film exhibited here in a meta level. By literally blocking any path into Jacqueline’s life, physical space has crowded in on us, the audience, as well and shattered our mastery and exposed the objectivity of isolation via creating a spatial and narrative barrier between us and the image. How much more do you need to signify the meaninglessness of her, or anyone’s, life and the dissonance with environment or god (for we are the omnipotent eye of god as voyeur after all).
This is a horror film but not the kind one expects, more in line with demonlover and those existential horrors that point to a hidden truth none of us want to face or contemplate, even in the safety of the movies.
Bataan: Well domino was right, this is a violent and downright brutal depiction of war. It’s also one of the better examples of the most attractive quality of the war film: the presentation of group dynamics as optimal and possible if revolved around similar values or goals. This, of course, has been proved unsuccessful many times over, even when revolved around a common objective, yet by simplifying focus we can often band together and forgo our personal biases and defects that prevent this connection. This film, like Hawks, presents comradery in groups as the ideal. However, unlike Hawks who depicts courageous and self-actualized individuals who have achieved their confidence in themselves through the power of the group and choose to remain in, and belong to, this group of winners; this film presents us with different people who are flawed and scared and courageous and uninvested, all co-existing out of necessity and occasionally finding pleasure in their relationships. This is real war, or as real as we would get for 1943, toning down the facade but stripped down this bears emotional resonance that feels true, not only to war but to the way people brush up against one another in their path towards connectivity and self-actualization. Arguments are quiet and become resolved, and some conflicts between the men that are more deep-rooted remain there long passed the end of the film. The men don’t become best friends, but respect one another, even if it’s not the kind of obvious respect that we expect from this era of war film. The exhaustion and trauma are apparent throughout the film on the face of every actor, reflecting a vulnerability quite uncommon for war films, but likely not strange for those who lived through war, which counts for a lot in history’s canon.
Our Town: A well-acted and well-written filmed play. Wood makes interesting choices particularly in close-ups and blocking of actors in certain scenes to convey their emotions in relation to the other’s behavior, as well as using lighting effectively to convey spiritual moments for the characters. The dvd copy I rented had some of the worst audio I’ve come across and a pretty rough picture, and I’m sure some of the allure in this film was lost on me due to the condition of the materials.
The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek: Eddie Bracken immediately makes any film better, as do other Sturges regulars and most actors under his direction. The same goes here and turning such a risqué plot into screwball works even better in context, a light touch on a serious (and taboo) circumstance. Like most Sturges, it’s a pleasure from beginning to end, though not one of my personal favorites it fares better than some others I used to rank higher (Sullivan’s Travels for one), and I seem to like it more the more I watch it (joining the camp of Hail and Lady Eve). It’s strange how some Sturges grows on me while others falter but you can’t apply reason to comedic taste in rational terms I suppose. When the film isn’t funny it’s charming and if every joke doesn’t land that’s fine because most do, including some of Sturges’ best uses of physical comedy. The scene where William Demarest tried to fight Bracken outside of his house with both daughters fending his off is a highlight, as his any scene where Bracken cowers as Demarest aggressively postures at him. If those two actors interacted in every comedy, we’d live in a more humorous world.
Ruthless: Another Ulmer, but this one didn’t work for me. The acting was often pretty painful, and while the premise appeared intriguing at first, by the half hour mark it was already showing its wear and uneven sides. Occasionally Ulmer stepped up his game and regained control with well pieced together mini-scenes, only to let the elements slip again. I liked parts of this, but a constant process of being drawn in with investment only to be pushed out with frustration and apathy was tiresome. I didn’t really care about the story once it got going and the early childhood memory of capitalist advice that triggers our lead’s character development wasn’t believable to say the least. I can’t figure Ulmer out, because at times he’s able to film a strong scene, utilizing form appropriately, but then within the same scene or the next scene he will frame the action in ways that diffuse any power the actors and script are trying to express. Domino posed a question of his competence and while I’d like to believe he has talent, and that the elements that ‘work’ aren’t due solely to his crew, it’s starting to look that way.
Monsieur Verdoux: I like Chaplin and I like Chaplin’s talkies, but the effusive praise for this one has always escaped me. There are scenes in this black comedy that provide laughs and work in their execution, but two hours is too long as the ideas become a bit stale over time. There’s an unevenness to many of the films in Chaplin’s post-silent era and their long runtimes don’t help sustain the mood, especially in this repetitive tale. Still, it is charming, funny, and interesting as a project, even if all the ideas don’t become realised as effectively in the end. A second viewing didn’t do much to change my impressions but those impressions weren’t negative to begin with, so it’s an effective revisit in that my thoughts are sustained and placement (or rather non-placement) on my list has been measured. Also, watching Chaplin suavely court and then murder people is simply a delight, at least for a while.
Strawberry Blonde: High energy and hilarious, Cagney works his usual charisma and lets supporting characters steal scenes depending on where the script places the opportunity for the strongest delivery. The material and actors are all capable and willing to collaborate cohesively to create something magical. Running gags such as squaring up to fight in each minor conflict and the dentistry practice, in everything from linguistic jokes to physical comedy setpieces, materialize as comedic gold and work far better than they should or would with different parts attempting their execution. The romance itself is also effective and the female actors demonstrate a range of talents on par with Cagney and his crew in both the funny and in selling themselves as honest and true people, creating an energetic connectivity missing from many romantic comedies of the era. The path the film takes to the happy ending through shrugging off schadenfreude to reach the conclusion nonchalantly is subtly hysterical. This is a winner on all fronts.
The 7th Victim: I’ve seen this film so many times I’ve lost count, including several since writing thoughts in this thread. I wasn’t going to post anything about it because several people on this forum have written long and terrific analyses (I know Cold Bishop wrote one in the last 40s thread, I think it was Satori who wrote one in the All-Time thread, and I forget where and who else did! Nor do I know how to link these..) - however, since no one has written anything yet in this thread, I feel the need to write, simply, that I am in the camp that loves this film. It will unquestionably make my top 10, probably top 5, for the decade.
I’ll concede that this doesn’t work as a horror film, a film noir, a romance, or a thriller on its own. It works as an eclectic mix of all of these genres and more, to create a subtly piercing mood piece on existential isolation, the supreme type of horror, the noir-like fatalistic presentation of inescapable division from others, the impossibility of true romance because of individualistic selfish priorities. Navigating through spaces and with people that separate themselves and push others away signifies the principles of exclusion inherent in this society and the futility of attempting authentic connection.
I agree with many that the satanic cult is not scary in the traditional sense, and quite lame in many respects on the surface. However, their apathetic attitude toward Jacqueline and by extension their fellow man, is more frightening than any monster or otherworldly cult could be in its implications of an absence of worth in another human being in this individualistic culture, urging another person to kill themselves with no emotion. Even the sisterly relationship highlights how vulnerable people are and how easily we can become unknown to even those who know us best, if it’s even briefly possible to achieve that much connection, or to discover objective truth in knowledge or meaning.
A lot of utility has been placed on the final shot (and sound) and how dark this ending is, especially for the time of the production code era. The ending is dark but the significance is that this is where and how it ends. Rather than on the characters who we’ve been following as surrogates during the story (the ‘innocent,’ ‘heroic,’ ‘moral,’ and ‘incorruptible’) we get to see Jacqueline. But alas we don’t even get to see her in the final frame! We hear her from behind the door to her apartment, as distanced from our characters as we possibly could be, the primary narrative abandoned and we not even allowed a final glimpse into our secondary character arc with which we have investment. This tactic separates us from our own connection to anyone and anything we’ve placed subjective value on to, this disconnect as a central theme of the film exhibited here in a meta level. By literally blocking any path into Jacqueline’s life, physical space has crowded in on us, the audience, as well and shattered our mastery and exposed the objectivity of isolation via creating a spatial and narrative barrier between us and the image. How much more do you need to signify the meaninglessness of her, or anyone’s, life and the dissonance with environment or god (for we are the omnipotent eye of god as voyeur after all).
This is a horror film but not the kind one expects, more in line with demonlover and those existential horrors that point to a hidden truth none of us want to face or contemplate, even in the safety of the movies.
Bataan: Well domino was right, this is a violent and downright brutal depiction of war. It’s also one of the better examples of the most attractive quality of the war film: the presentation of group dynamics as optimal and possible if revolved around similar values or goals. This, of course, has been proved unsuccessful many times over, even when revolved around a common objective, yet by simplifying focus we can often band together and forgo our personal biases and defects that prevent this connection. This film, like Hawks, presents comradery in groups as the ideal. However, unlike Hawks who depicts courageous and self-actualized individuals who have achieved their confidence in themselves through the power of the group and choose to remain in, and belong to, this group of winners; this film presents us with different people who are flawed and scared and courageous and uninvested, all co-existing out of necessity and occasionally finding pleasure in their relationships. This is real war, or as real as we would get for 1943, toning down the facade but stripped down this bears emotional resonance that feels true, not only to war but to the way people brush up against one another in their path towards connectivity and self-actualization. Arguments are quiet and become resolved, and some conflicts between the men that are more deep-rooted remain there long passed the end of the film. The men don’t become best friends, but respect one another, even if it’s not the kind of obvious respect that we expect from this era of war film. The exhaustion and trauma are apparent throughout the film on the face of every actor, reflecting a vulnerability quite uncommon for war films, but likely not strange for those who lived through war, which counts for a lot in history’s canon.
Our Town: A well-acted and well-written filmed play. Wood makes interesting choices particularly in close-ups and blocking of actors in certain scenes to convey their emotions in relation to the other’s behavior, as well as using lighting effectively to convey spiritual moments for the characters. The dvd copy I rented had some of the worst audio I’ve come across and a pretty rough picture, and I’m sure some of the allure in this film was lost on me due to the condition of the materials.
The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek: Eddie Bracken immediately makes any film better, as do other Sturges regulars and most actors under his direction. The same goes here and turning such a risqué plot into screwball works even better in context, a light touch on a serious (and taboo) circumstance. Like most Sturges, it’s a pleasure from beginning to end, though not one of my personal favorites it fares better than some others I used to rank higher (Sullivan’s Travels for one), and I seem to like it more the more I watch it (joining the camp of Hail and Lady Eve). It’s strange how some Sturges grows on me while others falter but you can’t apply reason to comedic taste in rational terms I suppose. When the film isn’t funny it’s charming and if every joke doesn’t land that’s fine because most do, including some of Sturges’ best uses of physical comedy. The scene where William Demarest tried to fight Bracken outside of his house with both daughters fending his off is a highlight, as his any scene where Bracken cowers as Demarest aggressively postures at him. If those two actors interacted in every comedy, we’d live in a more humorous world.
-
ando
- Bringing Out El Duende
- Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2004 6:53 pm
- Location: New York City
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Reunion in France (1942, Dassin)
It's a number of things, none of them exceptional. A prime Joan Crawford vehicle, a MGM reward project for Jules Dassin (after two good starts), a World War II propaganda yarn, a chance for Joseph Mankiewicz to earn producer stripes after being told by Louis B. Mayer that directing would come eventually (Mank had to leave before he jumped that hurdle) and an opportunity for John Wayne to show leading man potential. All of it is far more interesting than the plot of this French resistance soap opera where French socialite, Crawford, engineer, Philip Dorn and R.A. fighter, Wayne engage in a tepid love tryst while resisting the scrutiny of Nazi occupation brass in and around Paris. The tryst is a subplot and the only narrative point is to spirit the noble Crawford out of a beseiged and compromised Paris. The Crawford-Wayne chemistry is awkward and the Crawford-Dorn engagement is stiff and passion-less. (The only convincing match for Crawford to my eyes was Gable.) The end shot is inspired. Almost nothing else in the rest of Mank's handsome production is, however. For Crawford fans only.
It's a number of things, none of them exceptional. A prime Joan Crawford vehicle, a MGM reward project for Jules Dassin (after two good starts), a World War II propaganda yarn, a chance for Joseph Mankiewicz to earn producer stripes after being told by Louis B. Mayer that directing would come eventually (Mank had to leave before he jumped that hurdle) and an opportunity for John Wayne to show leading man potential. All of it is far more interesting than the plot of this French resistance soap opera where French socialite, Crawford, engineer, Philip Dorn and R.A. fighter, Wayne engage in a tepid love tryst while resisting the scrutiny of Nazi occupation brass in and around Paris. The tryst is a subplot and the only narrative point is to spirit the noble Crawford out of a beseiged and compromised Paris. The Crawford-Wayne chemistry is awkward and the Crawford-Dorn engagement is stiff and passion-less. (The only convincing match for Crawford to my eyes was Gable.) The end shot is inspired. Almost nothing else in the rest of Mank's handsome production is, however. For Crawford fans only.
-
domino harvey
- Dot Com Dom
- Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 2:42 pm
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
That one worked a lot better for me, though obviously the Crawford-Wayne pairing is a non-starter. Here are my thoughts from the War List Project:
As for Crawford on-screen partners, I think she works best with the assholes (so, sure, Clark Gable): For example, Zachary Scott's typical brand of sliminess was a good match for the needy bombast of Crawford's on-screen persona in Mildred Pierce. And of course Kent Smith in the Damned Don't Cry literally matches her aloofness!domino harvey wrote: ↑Mon May 26, 2014 9:24 pm
Reunion in France (Jules Dassin 1942) The set-up to this one sounds pretty dreadful in terms of casting alone: Joan Crawford paired off with… John Wayne?! However, somewhat surprisingly, this turned out to be a lovely sample of wartime intrigue, with Crawford as a spoiled French loyalist (no accent attempted, natch) who leaves the country right before the Germans invade and returns to find her fiance's become a turncoat Nazi sympathizer. Speaking of casting, you know you're in for a good time when John Carradine is cast as a Gestapo head! I kept waiting to hate this since the Crawford/Wayne pairing is scientifically flawed, but I never did, and the film also has a nifty and significant twist near the end that fooled me quite effectively. Recommended!
-
ando
- Bringing Out El Duende
- Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2004 6:53 pm
- Location: New York City
Re: The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions
Gable had to be more interesting off-screen than on - at least, he gave that bored-with-this-silliness-but-they're paying-me iimpression; cavalier, as they used to say. That quality seemed a good counter to Crawford's righteous obstinacy. Scott had that in addition to the aloof manner. Crawford just couldn't be hip, which (as you point out) is why an audience can buy the twist ending in Reunion. Not very French (as stereotypes go), either (despite her given surname, LeSueur).domino harvey wrote: ↑Tue Jul 30, 2019 3:59 pmAs for Crawford on-screen partners, I think she works best with the assholes (so, sure, Clark Gable): For example, Zachary Scott's typical brand of sliminess was a good match for the needy bombast of Crawford's on-screen persona in Mildred Pierce. And of course Kent Smith in the Damned Don't Cry literally matches her aloofness!