Destry Rides Again (1939) **1/2

It’s 1939 and things aren’t going well for Marlene Dietrich in Hollywood. Her longtime collaboration with Josef von Sternberg is over and she hasn’t made a good film since The Garden of Allah in 1936. And, then, as luck would have it, she’s cast against type as an unglamorous saloon singer in a satirical western. Who knew that all this sophisticated international star needed was a good old-fashioned non-typical American western to revamp her career?

Based on the Max Brand pulp story of the same name, this film was a remake of the 1932 Tom Mix film (and subsequently was later remade in 1954 with Audie Murphy). George Marshall directs a pair of western virgins in Dietrich and James Stewart (playing the title role) and does his very best to parody the classic Western. For example, Stewart plays a pacifistic unarmed lawman in a town where flying bullets are the norm. Released in the same year as Stagecoach, the film that set the classic western standard, Destry Rides Again sets its own unique template that other films like Cat Ballou and Blazing Saddles would later borrow from.

The story take place in a town appropriately named BOTTLENECK—primarily because just about the whole movie takes place inside the Last Chance Saloon (where, yet another bit of irony here, Dietrich’s character works). Owned by a shady gambler named Kent (Brian Donlevy), the saloon is a hotbed for gunfights and cheating gamblers--most notably Kent himself. Right from the start, we see Frenchy (Dietrich) helping Kent cheat the hapless Lem Claggett (Tom Fadden) out of his $10,000 ranch by spilling hot coffee on him and allowing his cards to be switched. When Claggett complains to Sheriff Keogh (Joe King) that he was cheated, the sheriff confronts Kent and is shot and killed (off-screen).

Later, we see Frenchy doing her best Mae West impression as she sings “You’ve Got That Look That Leaves Me Weak” to a sexually charged audience. Soon after the song ends, Kent has the corrupt Mayor/Judge Slade (Samuel S. Hinds) announce the town drunk, Dimsdale (Charles Winninger), as the new sheriff. Where is the esteemed new sheriff upon this announcement? Passed out on the floor, only to be roused by a whisky to the face. Oddly enough, he decides now is a good time to become sober. It seems that before he was a souse he’d been the deputy of Marshal Destry, a famous and respected lawman. He announces he’s going to hire Destry’s son, Tom (Stewart), to help bring order to Bottleneck.

Dimsdale’s (and also the town’s) expectations that Tom Destry will strike fear into criminals are quickly obliterated when a mild-mannered Tom emerges from the stage holding a parasol for fellow passenger, Janice (Irene Harvey). Immediately he becomes the source of ridicule, especially after he reveals that he doesn’t carry a gun and that he drinks milk instead of whisky. Frenchy goes so far as to give him a broom and bucket as tools that he can use to clean up Bottleneck. James Stewart is priceless in these scenes, with his famous aw-shucks attitude. With this characterization, George Marshall has now established the a-typical western sheriff/hero.

However, nothing is more priceless than the catfight between Frenchy and boarding house owner Lily Belle Callahan (Una Merkel). Angry that her Russian émigré husband Boris (Mischa Auer) has lost his pants to Frenchy in a card game, Lily accuses Frenchy of cheating and all hell breaks lose. In yet another a-typical move, Marshall doesn’t have the obligatory barroom brawl occur between men but between two scrappy females. Perhaps one of the longest catfights ever, both women (without the aid of stand-ins) engage in punching and wrestling (among other things) one another to the ground (where they roll around for an extended amount of time) until Destry pours a bucket of water on them. Oh, no he didn’t! This enrages Frenchy and she turns her wrath on him. After engaging in the same tactics she used on Lily, she grabs a gun and aims it at him. Deciding not to shoot him, she throws everything she can get her hands on at him and even finds herself on his shoulders at one time. This scene is absolutely side-splitting hilarious—her wrath and his bewildered amazement are priceless.
After Tom escapes the saloon, Dimsdale threatens to fire him for being the town laughing-stock. Tom tries to convince him that they can restore order without using guns. Explaining that a gun didn’t do his father any good when he was shot in the back in Tombstone, Tom convinces Dimsdale to give him a chance. We soon learn that just because he doesn’t want to carry a gun it doesn’t mean he can’t handle one. When he stops a group of cowboys from shooting their guns in the air, Tom borrows a gun and puts on a clinic to the amazement of onlookers. Soon Tom learns about the trouble between Kent and Claggett and decides that Frenchy is the person to get answers from. Over coffee in her room, Tom makes mild insinuations that Frenchy purposefully dropped coffee in Claggett’s lap to distract him from his cards. Offended, Frenchy throws him out, but not before he makes a sly comment about her not wearing so much makeup because it covers up her real beauty. As time wears on, Frenchy begins to admire Destry and even offers him her lucky rabbit’s foot and advises him to stay out of dark places.

With his newly sworn-in deputy’s, Boris, help, Destry tricks Kent into believing that he knows where Sheriff Keogh’s body is. When Kent sends one of his thugs to check on the body, Boris and Dimsdale tail him and arrest him when he leads them to the body. To avoid the corrupt Mayor Slade presiding over the case, Destry sends for a federal judge. This causes Kent to plan a jailbreak for his man. Fearing that Destry will be killed in the jailbreak, Frenchy sends for him and tries to distract him by telling him she’s leaving town and wants him to go to New Orleans with her. When shots ring out, Destry rushes back to the jail to see the prisoner has escaped and that Dimsdale has been fatally shot. Having had enough, Destry arms himself with his father’s guns and with the help of the fed-up decent townspeople, storms the saloon. Frenchy even tells all the ladies (with pitchforks and rolling pins, nonetheless) they should help their men. While the townsfolk are taking care of Kent’s men in the bar, Destry climbs up to the second floor in search of Kent. Just as Kent is about to shoot Destry, Frenchy throws herself in front of him and is mortally wounded. After shooting Kent, Destry holds Frenchy in his arms and honors her last request for a kiss. The way Frenchy rubs away her lipstick at this moment is heartbreaking. In the end, order is restored to the town, but not before Destry has lost another two people he loved to guns.

Before he became the serious cowboy/hero in such westerns as Winchester ‘73 and Broken Arrow, Stewart got to play the a-typical western hero. His easy-mannered performance is not a surprise, as it was his calling card on just about every film he ever made, but it is interesting to watch his Destry spin yarns into valuable lessons. His Destry reminds me of a Wild West Aesop.

Dietrich, of course, had her career revived by this film. She would go on to make two other westerns, The Spoilers and Rancho Notorious, but neither topped her performance here. She shows so many sides to her character it’s difficult to keep up: sassy, sexy, fierce, humorous, fearful, and loving. The bawdiness she puts into her musical numbers, most notably “See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have”, is wickedly enjoyable. She took a big risk playing against type here, but in the end it worked in her favor, as she started to play more diverse characters.

Hilariously entertaining on several levels, this is a true classic.

Read More

Footlight Parade (1933) **1/2

Busby Berkeley was a field artillery lieutenant in WWI. Thus, he watched as soldiers marched in unison as they obeyed a strict cadence. No doubt this experience laid the groundwork for what would would become some of the most innovatively choreographed musical numbers in film history. Last week I wrote about Berkeley's breakout work in 42nd Street, so it is only fitting that I do a follow-up this week about his greatest musical number ever, “By a Waterfall” from Footlight Parade.

Following up his directorial success of 42nd Street, Lloyd Bacon helmed yet another backstage musical with this film. James Cagney plays Chester Kent, a down on his luck Broadway director who becomes a prologue director after talking pictures prove hugely profitable. And just what is a prologue director, you ask? Someone who puts together live stage shows to be shown in movie theaters before the main film. This is a step down for Chester. The musical comedies that he directed for Broadway were very successful, but once the “talkie” emerged his ticket sales dwindled. If this wasn’t bad enough, his wife (Renee Whitney) leaves him after she learns that his Broadway career is over. She should have stayed, because Chester and his partners, Sy Gould (Guy Kibee) and Frazer (Arthur Hohl), make their prologue enterprise a huge success. Due to this success, Chester’s main competitor decides to plant a mole in the company in order to steal Chester’s lavish production ideas. In addition to this problem, he has to worry about his underhanded partners who are shortchanging him from his hard-earned profits. What is a frazzled, creative genius to do?

Like most distracted, overworked men Chester has a woman on the spot who keeps his chaotic world in order: Nan Prescott (Joan Blondell). Dependable, loyal, and desperately in love with her boss, Nan keeps the ship afloat as Chester puts his attention everywhere but on her. One place that he sets his attention is on gold-digging actress Vivian Rich (Claire Dodd), who Nan sees right through. To say that Vivian is a piece of work would be an understatement.

When a big deal emerges with the Appolinaris’ theater company for a 40-theater contract, Chester must come up with three new shows in three days. Not willing to take a chance on his brilliant ideas leaking out to his competitor, Chester locks everyone in the studio and forbids any phone calls or outside visitors. One of the brilliant ideas Chester has is that mousy, bespectacled secretary Bea (Ruby Keeler) take off her glasses and become the star of the show. He also thinks that Scotty Blair (Dick Powell) has a nice singing voice; even if he had been forced upon him by Mrs. Gould (the outrageously funny Ruth Donnelly). Coincidentally, just like in 42nd Street, Powell and Keeler are romantically paired in this film. If working under such tight time constraints and fearing that someone will leak his ideas to his competitor aren’t enough, Chester must also try to meet Mrs. Gould’s “decency” requirements, which are monitored by her brother Charlie (Hugh Herbert).

In the end, what emerges from Chester’s creative mind are three very memorable musical numbers. The first, “Honeymoon Hotel” is performed by Powell and Keeler, who play a newly married couple who just want to enjoy their honeymoon without interruption but keep being interrupted by relatives and a creepy baby played by Billy Barty. The lyrics are very suggestive and overall the number was deemed too racy by many and was heavily cut in some local theaters.

The second act is the most spectacular (and the one that is most associated with Berkeley): “By a Waterfall.” Over 15 minutes long, this was the first on-screen aquacade. It featured 100 “bathing beauties”, costumed in swimming suits that made them appear naked, performing various aquatic acts in an 80-by-40-foot swimming pool. The pool was designed with a glass floor and glass walls, which allowed Berkeley to shoot the swimmers from every imaginable angle. The swimmers dance and form intricate, geometric patterns (which were captured by overhead kaleidoscopic shots). At the end, the swimmers form a revolving 70 ft. high wedding cake/fountain. It is the most spectacular musical number ever captured on film. Berkeley had the pool lined with glass walls and a glass floor so he could shoot the swimmers from every possible angle. No musical number has ever topped this.

The final number is one of my favorite James Cagney performances: “Shanghai Lil”—which was a nod to the 1932 film Shanghai Express (which I reviewed back in February). Told in an operatic fashion, the audience watches as a camera takes them through the waterfront bars of Shanghai. Cagney plays a tap dancing sailor looking for his lost lover Lil, a Chinese prostitute, in an opium-laced brothel. Watched today, most people don’t get the political messages that were being conveyed about American imperialism in Asia and FDR’s New Deal—especially with the image of the NRA’s Blue Eagle, which was a boost to fair wages and business competition (this Act was ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court in 1935). If you can get over seeing Keeler in a black wig and Chinese makeup, you’ll enjoy watching her dance number with Cagney—it is phenomenal. All told, more than 150 people performed in this number. Then unknowns John Garfield, Ann Sothern, and Dorothy Lamour appear in this sequence.

Overall, a highly entertaining musical. Cagney is at his best as the overworked Chester and Joan Blondell is her usual charming self. The supporting cast is stellar, especially Ruby Keeler and Ruth Donnelly. All of the musical numbers are great and two of them are considered among the greatest ever made.

Read More

42nd Street (1933) **1/2

In 1933, the Great Depression was steamrolling its way across the globe. Each country dealt with public morale in its own way. To put a little pep in the step of their people the Japanese pushed further into Manchuria and the Germans made Adolf Hitler their leader. In America, we decided to make musicals. Our rationale—poverty is easier to swallow if you’re being entertained by a good song and dance show. And in the end, aren’t dancing shoes more attractive than marching boots?

Had it not been for illness, Mervyn LeRoy would have directed this signature backstage musical. He was the one who developed most of the film, but had to hand the directorial reins to Lloyd Bacon after becoming ill—an on the verge of bankruptcy studio just couldn’t wait. Good thing he wasn’t too ill to suggest that then-girlfriend Ginger Rogers play Anytime Annie—her breakthrough role. In addition, this film launched the careers of Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler (Mrs. Al Jolson) and gave little-known choreographer Busby Berkley the opportunity to showcase his amazing talent. When all was said and done, Bacon did a fine job and the film was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar (it lost to Cavalcade).

Screenwriters Rian James and James Seymour adapted the Bradford Ropes novel of the same name into an acerbic, no-holds barred look at what really happens behind the curtains of Broadway. Their script opens with the announcement that producers Jones (Robert Mc Wade)and Barry (Ned Sparks) are launching a new show, Pretty Lady, starring Dorothy Beck (Bebe Daniels). Like most Broadway beauties, Dorothy owes her success to a rich benefactor; in this case, industrialist Abner Dillon (Guy Kibbee), who is financing the show. The producers choose Julian Marsh (the excellent Warner Baxter), a tyrannical, highly successful director but a newly bankrupt man thanks to the stock market crash, to run the show. Due to his unfortunate financial situation, Julian disregards the warnings of his doctor that too much stress could kill him and decides he must make the show a success—no matter what! And so the stage is set for a very contentious production of a Broadway show.

At the auditions we get a first-hand view of the backstage antics of show business. At the cattle call we meet choreographer Andy Lee (George Stone) and his girlfriend, chorus-girl Lorraine (Una Merkel). We also are introduced to the catty and sassy Anytime Annie (Rogers) and the innocent and inexperienced Peggy Sawyer (Ruby Keeler), who mistakenly walks into the men’s dressing room and sees a half-dressed Billy (Dick Powell) instead of the director. Fortunately for Peggy she makes quick friends with Billy, Lorraine and Annie and due to their “connections” she is selected for the chorus. Unfortunately for Peggy, Marsh is an exacting, chain-smoking director who likes to deliver overly-intense diatribes to his cast. I personally enjoy listening to Baxter deliver these not so inspirational speeches, but I can see where some might find them irritating.

Things soon become complicated when we learn that the show’s female lead is a two-timer, who’s cheating on the show’s backer with Pat (George Brent), her former vaudeville partner. When Marsh learns about this he asks his gangster friend Slim Murphy (Tom Kennedy) to get Pat out of the way. Meanwhile, an emasculated Pat starts to see himself as Dorothy’s “kept man” and begins to show an interest in Peggy. After taking her out to dinner one evening he is confronted and attacked by Slim Murphy. When Peggy takes him up to her room to tend to his wounds she is evicted by her landlady. With no place to stay, Pat convinces Peggy to stay at his apartment. So Peggy now spends her nights trying to help Pat get a backbone and her days trying to teach Billy how to tap dance. For those of you who don’t know, Ruby Keeler was a standout tap dancer. In the end, Pat decides to leave New York and take a job in Philadelphia—which coincidentally is where Pretty Lady has its opening test run.

Soon after performing the “You’re Getting to Be a Habit with Me” number in a full dress rehearsal (which Bebe Daniels is quite good in), Dorothy sees Peggy getting into a cab with Pat and she becomes jealously enraged. This causes her to drink way too much at her pre-opening party, which leads her to slap and insult Abner. Oh, no you didn’t! Abner now demands that Marsh replace Peggy for her insolence. Really, hours before the opening? Okay, he’ll accept an apology, but first the producers have to get Dorothy away from Pat, whom she has drunkenly called to her hotel. After hearing the producers discussing how to get rid of Pat again, Peggy tries to warn the couple. A drunken Dorothy thinks she’s there to take Pat away from her and attacks her. In this tussle Dorothy takes a tumble and severely injures her ankle. What to do?

With Dorothy obviously out of his good graces, Abner suggests Anytime Annie take her place—quick work, don’t you think? But Annie doesn’t want the part and suggests to Marsh that Peggy is the only member of the cast capable of replacing Dorothy. With only five hours left until show time, Marsh and Peggy engage in an exhaustive cram session. In the end, Marsh deems Peggy somewhat capable of playing the role and declares that the show must go on. In a somewhat moving scene, Dorothy (on crutches) goes to Peggy’s dressing room to give her blessing and to give the young ingénue some sage advice about show business: success means nothing if you aren’t happy—she’s marrying Pat and leaving show business.

With this bit of melodrama over, the curtain rises and the film becomes a full-fledged musical, but not before the most memorable lines of the film are uttered by Marsh to Peggy: “you’re going out a youngster, but you’ve got to come back a star.” Got pressure? What follows this sage declaration are three memorable Busby Berkeley choreographed numbers, the most notable being, of course, “42nd Street” but I also enjoy “Shuffle Off to Buffalo” , which is a very risqué number—fortunately the Hays Code wasn’t in effect yet. Now, Ruby Keeler was definitely not the most gifted singer, but she does a passable job of singing “42nd Street” and her tap dancing is spectacular. “42nd Street” is the final number of the show and the stylized sets are amazing and the sheer amount of bodies involved in the number baffles one’s mind. One of the standout elements of this number is when chorus members walk up a giant platform and turn at the same time to reveal skyscraper cutouts, which creates a giant New York skyline. The show is a huge success, but Marsh is so physically drained from the ordeal of putting it together that he can’t even enjoy the fruits of his labor. Isn’t that always the case?

This film set the stage for a new type of Hollywood musical and gave birth to the unmistakable Busby Berkeley production number. When people think of 42nd Street they immediately remember the spectacular images he created. In my opinion, Berkeley is the greatest choreographer in film history.

Of course, future Hollywood stars like Dick Powell, Ruby Keeler, and Ginger Rogers got their big break here. Yet, the person I always remember as the standout is Warner Baxter. He was absolutely terrific as the tyrannically-driven director. Personally, I think this was his greatest role—much better than his Oscar winning turn in In Old Arizona. For me, he and the Berkeley production numbers are what makes this such a good film.

Read More

Captains Courageous (1937) **

There are times when I think Spencer Tracy would have been better off if he’d never been paired up with Katharine Hepburn in 1942, when they co-starred in Woman of the Year. Now I know there are many fans of this duo, which made nine films together. I, myself, enjoy many of their films. Yet, the problem I have with this pairing is that there are so many movie fans who don’t recognize (or know about) the great work Tracy did without Hepburn. For way too many, his career is overly defined by the work he did with her. This is a shame, because he gave some of his best performances without her. As a matter of fact, in his illustrious career he was nominated for nine Academy Awards (winning twice), and only one of these nominations, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, co-starred Hepburn. Perhaps this oversight is tied to their off-screen romance. Whatever the case, I wish more people appreciated his non-Hepburn films.

Captains Courageous is one of those non-Hepburn films in which Tracy gives an outstanding performance. He won his first Oscar playing Portuguese fisherman Manuel in this classic MGM film, directed by Victor Fleming. An adaptation of Rudyard Kipling’s novel of the same name, the film garnered four Academy Award nominations (only winning Best Actor) and is considered one of cinema’s classic coming-of-age adventure stories.

In the beginning of the film, spoiled rich boy Harvey Cheyne (Freddie Bartholomew) and his widowed, inattentive millionaire father (Melvyn Douglas) are aboard the Queen Anne and headed for Europe. Harvey is a world-class brat who thinks it’s okay to drink six ice cream sodas. Punished by the gods of the high seas for his childish gluttony, Harvey becomes nauseous and leans a little too far over the rail to spew the remnants of his tasty treat. Splash! Into the ocean goes Harvey and nobody seems to notice. His body is rescued by Manuel (Tracy), a Portuguese sailor working on an American fishing ship captained by Disko Troop (the great Lionel Barrymore). Evidently Harvey didn’t sustain a concussion, because when he wakes up he’s as pompous as ever. He demands that Captain Troop drop everything and turn the ship toward shore. Troop missed the memo that said Harvey is lord and master and so he tells the boy a foreign word—NO. Instead, Harvey is informed that he must spend the next three months aboard a ship inhabited by dead fish and unrefined sailors. Plus, he’s told he must work on the ship if he wants to eat. Oh, the inhumanity!

Put under the supervision of Manuel (who calls Harvey his little fish), Harvey refuses to do any work at all and shuns the friendly overtures of Dan (Mickey Rooney), the captain's son. Once hunger kicks in, Harvey starts working in the ship galley. Over time, Harvey learns to perform various jobs and is eventually taught by Manuel how to fish. On one of their fishing trips in a skiff, Harvey fouls the line of other fisherman in order to catch a large halibut and win a contest. While Harvey is basking in the glow of success, Manuel is throwing the fish back in an effort to teach his little fish a lesson. This incident provokes an amazing result: Harvey actually feels ashamed and apologizes. From this point on, the salty, singing fisherman and the young would-be sailor form a bond. As a matter of fact, Harvey grows so fond of Manuel that he doesn’t want to be returned to his father.

Later, when the ship learns that a rival fishing ship is trying to beat them to port in an effort to get the best prices, Captain Troop decides they must make some bold moves. He orders the sails unfurled in dangerous weather conditions. Manuel volunteers for this task. Unfortunately the weather causes the mast to crack and Manuel is mortally wounded and trapped by the sails’ canvas and ropes in the water. In a heart-wrenching scene, it is decided that Manuel must be cut loose, sending him to the bottom of the sea to his death, This scene alone was most probably enough for Tracy to win the Oscar. His tearful goodbye to his little fish just break your heart. Bartholomew is also very moving in this scene. As a matter of fact, Bartholomew is exceedingly good for the remainder of the film. When the ship arrives at Gloucester, Harvey is reunited with his father. A moving memorial service is held for Manuel. It is here where the gulf between Mr. Cheyne and Harvey is closed. Mr. Cheyne sees that his son is no loner a spoiled brat, but a young man who has been profoundly changed by his experiences with Manuel.

Overall, this is a moving coming-of-age film. Tracy’s portrayal of the salt-of-the-earth (or sea in this case) Manuel is wonderful. Like many of his earlier roles, Tracy really develops this role into a memorable character. He gives Manuel many edges and does a good job of not over-playing his character into too much of a stereotype. In addition, Bartholomew is a delight to watch. Yes, his character is annoying in the beginning, but the personality changes he undergoes throughout the film seem believable. It is not easy to go from one of the most-irritating brats in screen history to a child who makes your heart break by the end of the film. Of course, Bartholomew had an excellent, seasoned co-star to help him along this difficult path. It is a shame that this film is not as well-known as it should be.

Read More

Mutiny on the Bounty (1935) **

In 1935 Columbia Pictures president Harry Cohn had the great distinction of awarding the first “Oscar” for Best Picture (it was actually called Outstanding Production at that time) to MGM’s nautical classic Mutiny on the Bounty. His studio had no film nominated (which is difficult to believe since 12 films were up for the award), so he was just happy to be asked to the party. Anyway, between 1927-1934 the award wasn’t known as the “Oscar”, so technically this was the first Best Picture to win the “Oscar”—one of those tricky questions for you trivia buffs out there. It also holds the honor of being the first remake (1933’s In the Wake of the Bounty) to win Best Picture. In the end, the film was nominated for 8 Academy Awards and only won one, but at least it won the biggest prize of all. Of course, they may have picked up the Best Actor award if it hadn’t been for the fact that the three male leads (Clark Gable, Charles Laughton, and Franchot Tone) were nominated against one another. I suppose Victor McLaglen was quite happy about this, because he took home the award for his performance in The Informer.

The screenplay was a monumental undertaking, as screenwriters Talbot Jennings, Carey Wilson and Jules Furthman were given the task of adapting the first two volumes of Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall’s 1932 The Bounty Trilogy to the big screen. For the amount of story they had to work with, I think it is a miracle the movie was only 132 minutes long. Perhaps this is one of the reasons they were nominated for an Oscar (they lost out to The Informer, too!). There was an actual Mutiny on the Bounty, but, like most Hollywood films based on true stories, this was not a completely accurate retelling. For example, Captain Bligh wasn’t reprimanded in this incident but, in fact, promoted to Vice Admiral for his actions.

Director Frank Lloyd also picked up a nomination (he lost to John Ford, who, you guessed it!, directed The Informer—was there a conspiracy?) for heading MGM’s $2 million over-budget film. Good thing for Lloyd that it was also the top-earner of 1935, at $4.5 million. Of course, producers Irving Thalberg and Albert Lewin couldn’t complain since they signed off on a film primarily shot on location in Tahiti and Catalina Island. Perhaps Lloyd’s greatest accomplishment on this film was getting Clark Gable to shave off his cherished mustache.

The story begins in 1787, aboard the H.M.S. Bounty, which is bound for the breadfruit capital of the world, Tahiti. Once there, the crew’s mission is to transport the cheap foodstuff to plantations in the West Indies. Charles Laughton gives one of his most memorable performances as the sadistic and abusive captain of the Bounty, Captain Bligh. Some genius at MGM thought Wallace Beery was the best actor for this role. Really? Wallace Beery better than Academy Award winner Charles Laughton? I hope someone got a promotion for averting this disaster. Anyway, before the ship can set off from Portsmouth, Captain Bligh has one bit of business to attend. A crew member must be flogged for violating a rule. The problem: he’s dead. No matter, he still must be flogged to send a message to the rest of the crew. Does the audience really need to know any more about Bligh? First Officer Fletcher Christian (Clark Gable), who is used to working with this nutcase, tries his best to heed his captain’s orders while at the same time gaining the respect of the crew. This only infuriates Bligh more, which, in turn, causes him to do things that makes Christian grow to resent him. In addition to Fletcher, Midshipman Roger Byam (Franchot Tone), who is on his first cruise with Bligh, is astounded and shocked by the captain’s behavior.

By the time the ship lands in Tahiti, Fletcher is out of favor with Bligh and is not allowed to go ashore. Instead, Byam goes ashore and falls in love with the beautiful Tehani (Mrs. Marlon Brando, Movita Castaneda). Not wanting to hog all the beautiful island women, Byam concocts a plan to allow Fletcher to go ashore. Once there, he also falls in love with Maimiti (Mamo Clark), the granddaughter of the island chief. The crew spends six months in paradise and then, once they have got all the breadfruit they can carry, they must set off for the West Indies. Having led a carefree, happy existence on the island, the men soon become reacquainted with Captain Bligh’s strict running of the ship. Some of the men can’t take it and decide to abandon ship and return to the beautiful Tahitian women. When they are captured, Bligh orders their flogging and demands that the ship’s very ill doctor, Dr. Bacchus (Dudley Digges), attend. What a clever last name for an alcoholic!!! Any way, Dr. Bacchus dies after leaving his bed to obey Bligh’s order. This causes Fletcher to break and he intervenes in the flogging and starts a mutiny. Bligh is tied to the mast and becomes the victim of countless insults from his crew. Luckily for him, Fletcher is an honorable man. When the crew decides to kill him, Fletcher saves him and sets him and some of the non-mutineers out to sea in a small rowboat. Unfortunately for Byam, who doesn’t support the mutiny, there is not enough room for him in the boat. Put out to sea, Bligh swears vengeance and promises he will live to see every last mutineer hang. A master sailor (but a total SOB), Bligh does manage to travel the high seas over 3,500 miles to reach the East Indies.

Meanwhile, the mutineers return to Tahiti, where both Fletcher and Byam marry their Tahitian beauties. And for a whole year, the crew lives in paradise. But then one unfortunate day the Pandora, commanded by one Captain Bligh, drops anchor in the Tahitian harbor. Fletcher leads the mutineers on an escape from the island with the Bounty, while Byam and five other men return to Bligh. As psycho as ever, Bligh charges them with mutiny and places them in irons. Crazy for vengeance, Bligh recklessly pursues the Bounty and wrecks his ship. Miraculously, those who survive this crash also survive another rowboat expedition and eventually make it back to England, where Byam faces court-martial and is sentenced to hang. At his hearing, Byam reveals the true nature of Captain Bligh and the cruelty of flogging as a punishment. In true Hollywood style, Byam is pardoned and allowed to return to service in the navy, while Captain Bligh’s behavior is denounced.

And what happened to Fletcher? He and his crew took the Bounty to Pitcairn Island and promptly crashed and burned it so no one could ever leave. No doubt after seeing this movie thousands of women went home and dreamt they were stranded on a deserted island with Clark Gable.

Overall, and enjoyable adventure story. The cinematography is pretty impressive, but I definitely think it would have been better shot in color. The acting is top-notch and Charles Laughton does a great job portraying one of the most vilest characters in screen history.

Read More

Captain Blood (1935) ***

Before 1935 Errol Flynn was an Australian nobody in Hollywood. He’d made five very forgettable films (only one of which he “starred” in) and his career was in neutral. And, then Robert Donat turned down (rather vehemently) the role of Captain Blood. Although he may have been a stingy S.O.B., Jack Warner often could spot diamonds in the rough and he saw something in Flynn’s raw animal magnetism and gave Flynn the role that would launch an adventurous career.

Based on Rafael Sabatini’s novel of the same name, Captain Blood was directed by Michael Curtiz and was nominated for 5 Academy Awards. Errol Flynn plays a 17th Century Irish doctor who is found guilty of treason in England after treating a man wounded in the Monmouth Rebellion (this was a rebellion to overthrow King James II). Sentenced to slavery in the West Indies (specifically Port Royal, Jamaica), he is condemned to the sulfur mines after refusing to allow the colony’s military commander, Colonel Bishop (the strangely entertaining Lionel Atwill), to examine his teeth. Attracted by Blood’s open defiance of her uncle, the plucky Arabella Bishop (Olivia de Havilland) decides to rescue Blood from sure death and buys him for 10 pounds. Oh, what would a gorgeous woman want with a rebellious slave stud? Get your minds out of the gutter! Blood is openly resentful towards Arabella for interfering and the two often trade barbs with one another, but she’s still the boss (kind of). Both Arabella and Blood are fiery, strong-willed individuals, so it is great fun to watch their scenes together. In particular, de Havilland seems to have a mischievous gleam in her eye throughout the film. This was the first of eight film pairings for Flynn and de Havilland—one of the most successful in screen history.

In the begging of his servitude with the Bishops, Blood finds himself working on their plantation. When Arabella sees that Blood is getting the lash a bit too much for his unchecked attitude, she decides to set him up in a more cozy position. It just so happens that the governor of Port Royal has gout, and who better to treat him than Dr. Blood? Later, she rescues him again when she provides an alibi for him when he is making plans for an escape. This sets up one of the more comical scenes of the film: Blood apologizes and tries to explain why he’s been so rude to Arabella. Her response is pure delight, “I've had men tell me they had reasons for admiring me. And some few, it came, had reasons for loving me. But for a man to store up reasons for resenting me. How refreshing!" For some reason Blood thought this was an invitation to a kiss—oh, no you didn’t! Slap!

As Blood and his friends continue their escape plans, the island is attacked by Spanish pirates. This causes the necessary diversion for them to make their escape. Yet, when they get to their hidden boat they find it damaged and unseaworthy. Not letting this deter them, they decide to take over the weakly guarded Spanish boat. After subduing the Spanish crew, and thus, saving Port Royal, the escaped prisoners are told by Colonel Bishop (who somehow made his way to the ship) that the king might reduce their sentences for their bravery. They toss him overboard and become the Pirates of the Caribbean (take that Johnny Depp!), with Dr. Love becoming Captain Blood.

Later, in a stop in Tortuga, Blood meets French pirate Captain Levasseur (Basil Rathbone). This was the first of many screen partnership between Rathbone and Flynn. Drunk as a skunk, Blood forms a partnership with this most untrustworthy Frenchman. The partnership is rather fortuitous, because Levasseur soon captures an English ship carrying Arabella and an emissary of the king, Lord Willoughby (Henry Stephenson). Levasseur wants to sell them back for a ransom, but Blood decides to buy them for a handful of pearls. Both Arabella and Levasseur aren’t happy with this deal. She, because it’s a blow to her pride—Blood is the boss now. Levasseur, because he has plans for the haughty prisoner. Blood is forced to draw his sword on Levasseur, thus ending their already fragile partnership. In the first of many crossed saber scenes between Rathbone and Flynn ensues, and Levasseur is killed. This is a great swordsmanship scene that was timed to the incoming waves. Filmed at Laguna Beach, in this scene Rathbone had to fall at exactly the same moment that a wave was coming in and could cover him and then wash back out to sea to reveal his dead body. They did it in one take.

Good news, King James II is dead and William and Mary are now the rulers of England—praise be upon the Glorious Revolution of 1688! Lord Willoughby informs Blood that he will grant the entire crew a pardon if he returns them to Port Royal. When Arabella tells him she wants nothing to do with his pirate way of life, he decides to return his new purchases to Port Royal. This could be a problem, because due to his rather profitable ventures on the high seas, the governor of Port Royal has been replaced by Colonel Bishop, who has sworn vengeance on Blood. When the ship returns to Port Royal they find it under French attack. It would seem that instead of protecting the colony, the English fleet is out at sea trying to hunt down pirates. In a bit of irony, Blood and his crew overtake the French ship and save Port Royal yet again! As a reward, Lord Willoughby appoints Blood the new governor of the colony and Arabella gives in to her love for her heroic hunk.

The chemistry between Flynn and de Havilland is undeniable. I always appreciate how well de Havilland seems to play feisty but refined women. In addition, the role reversal between the two lovers is enjoyable to watch. Plus, she could always carry off just about any costume they put her in in her many period films.

Besides being a great adventurous love story, this film made good use of special effects, camerawork, and a fantastic Oscar nominated musical score. Director Curtiz carries the film at a past pace and makes good use of cinematographers Ernest Haller and Hal Mohr. Eric Wolfgang Korngold’s score is very memorable as well. Although it lost the Best Picture Oscar to Mutiny on the Bounty, Captain Blood stands alone as one of the greatest pirate films (pre CGI) ever.

Read More

King Kong (1933) **

“’Twas Beauty killed the beast”—one of the all-time greatest final lines in film history came from this 1933 classic directed by Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack. Considered a fantasy/adventure film, this low-budget, B-movie revolutionized the way filmmakers looked at special-effects and the use of model work. In addition, these same technical innovations, such as 18 inch miniature models, stop-action animation, and rear projection, helped break every box-office record and saved RKO from bankruptcy. Truly a visual spectacle, it’s difficult to believe this was shot in a studio.

I suspect Madame Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve rolled over in her grave when she learned that the male lead in her classic 1740 tale about a beauty and her beast would be played by none other than a giant gorilla. Se La Vie, Madame, don’t be angry with screenwriters James Ashmore Creelman and Ruth Rose for putting a new twist to an old story—it worked.

It’s 1932 and the Depression is raging—you’d think director Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) wouldn’t have any trouble finding an actress to star in his picture. The problem, it seems, is most actresses would rather starve than travel on a boat to an undisclosed location for an indeterminate amount of time. So, like any good director he hits the streets looking for his potential leading lady. He finds her (Faye Wray) trying to steal an apple and rescues her from an angry fruit vendor. And, then, without a cue, she faints in his arms. Well, Carl, is there any better qualification for a leading lady than the ability to faint? Eureka, she’s perfect! After getting a good meal into her and convincing her that he wants her to star in his picture not in his bedroom, Carl has his female lead, Ann Darrow.

On what soon seems like an endless voyage to the South Pacific, Ann finds herself the only woman on the boat. She soon meets the ship’s first mate, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot, but the role was first offered to Joel McCrea). He, and the other crewmembers for that matter, don’t like Ann being on board…something about women being bad luck for boats. Evidently he can see into the future, because when he sees Ann playing with the crew’s pet monkey (why do all ships have pet monkeys?) he makes a comment about beauty and the beast.

Somewhere in the middle of the trip, Denham informs a flabbergasted Captain Englehorn (Frank Reicher) that they are to travel southwest. According to his secret map (where was his decoder ring?), there is an uncharted island that can only be reached through a reef that is surrounded by extremely tall precipices, and then, once you get there you have to get through some pesky, massive wall. After setting the course, Denham turns to prepping Ann for her performance and does some preliminary camera shots. Perhaps Ann should have been a bit curious as to why he wanted her to practice blood-curdling screams.

Later, as the fog rolls in, the ship finds itself looking up at Skull Mountain and hearing the sound of drums and chanting. Having arrived at their ominous destination, a small party (loaded with a whole bunch of weapons) makes their way ashore. There, they find a “colossal” stone wall. They also see, and hear, natives dressed as gorillas chanting, “Kong, Kong” and dancing around what one can only assume is a human sacrifice. Denham views this as a Kodak moment and starts filming, which, in turn, causes he and his party to be noticed by the natives. Somehow Captain Englehorn knows their language (right) and explains that they’ve come in peace. This does not pacify the angry tribal leader, but he does broker a deal for Ann—six of his women for one golden woman. No deal, and the crew returns to the ship to regroup. Here, Jack shows concern for Ann’s safety and they share a kiss.

Ah, but those pesky natives don’t want to take no for an answer and decide to stealthily row out to the ship and capture the golden woman. After procuring their prize, they return to the island and prepare her as a sacrifice. Back at the ship, when Ann can’t be located but a native bracelet can, the crew sends out a rescue party. Meanwhile, the natives have opened the gate and tied Ann to the top of an altar. After securing her to her bridal chamber, they hurry back and lock the gate and then ring a gong. This evidently is a signal to Kong, because the next thing we hear are primal animal noises coming from the jungle. And, then, we see him: a giant ape/gorilla. This is one of those first images you just don’t forget. On cue, Ann starts screaming bloody murder and gains the attention of Kong. When he releases her from the altar, she faints, which makes it even easier to pick her up and carry her off into the jungle.

This is perhaps the best part of the film. The jungle scenes and the beasts held within this primordial world are just spectacular. Half the armed rescue party guards the gate while the other half pursue Ann and the beast’s giant footprints into the jungle. When they come upon a stegosaurus their bullets are no match for its protective armor. Good thing they brought bombs with them! After disposing of this creature, they hear Kong making his way through a swamp and quickly construct a raft to cross the ominous-looking swamp. Here they meet a brontosaurus, which overturns their raft and throws them into the murky swamp. Lunch is had by the brontosaurus, but a few men do escape. The violence of this scene is captivating. I especially liked when the creature eats one man head first. Hearing his pursuers, Kong places Ann in a tree and goes to find the rescue party. As the men are crossing along a log bridge Kong rips it up from the ground and shakes it, sending the men into a deep gorge and to their deaths. Miraculously (it is a film), Jack is the only man to make it across the bridge and he attempts to hide in some sort of vine thing. When Kong tries to grab him, Jack uses his knife to defend himself from Kong and to cut another vine that is occupied by a giant lizard. When Ann starts screaming again (yes, she does stop from time to time), Kong goes to gather her up and finds another dinosaur about to eat his golden woman. Oh, no you didn’t! Now, it’s time for a Battle Royale between Kong and the tyrannosaurus rex. This battle uses very impressive stop-action animation. The ferocious battle (I won’t describe it, you have to see it) ends when Kong rips open the jaws of his enemy and then beats his chest triumphantly. Having saved his golden woman, he gathers Ann from the tree and heads further into the jungle.

Somehow, Jack and Denham meet up—they are the only two surviving members of their group. Denham is sent back for reinforcements, while Jack is given the task of finding Ann and then signaling for help.

Meanwhile, Kong takes Ann to his humble abode: a cave atop Skull Mountain. The decorations include a very creepy snake-thingy, which tries to eat Ann when Kong leaves her for a moment. Oh, no you didn’t! Hearing yet more screaming (I wonder if they had earplugs on the island?), Kong remerges and has to teach snake-thingy how to treat guests. While being choked to death by the snake’s coils, Kong somehow manages to gather enough strength to bash the snake against a rock. With this household chore disposed of, Kong takes Ann to the balcony and shows her the view, where, you guessed it, she faints again. Watching his golden woman sleep, Kong examines his prize. When he hears a noise, Kong leaves Ann atop the cave while he goes to check inside. As Ann is trying to find a way to escape, a winged dinosaur (pterodactyl?) tries to snatch her up off the ledge. Kong returns just in time to save Ann, who is being lifted off the ground by the creature. As Kong is fighting the winged beast, Jack appears and grabs Ann and they start to climb down the very steep cliff via vine. After killing the beast, Kong is a bit miffed when he learns they are trying to escape. Seeing the vine, he tries to pull them back up the mountain, but this causes them to fall into the water at the foot of the mountain. The current pulls Jack and Ann downriver, which coincidentally, is in the direction of the village. They reunite with the crew and head toward the beach just in time to hear that a very angry Kong is at the gate. He breaks the giant door down and frantically searches for his golden woman, all the while destroying everything in his path. One native even finds himself being chewed to death by the beast. When Kong reaches the beach, Denham throws a gas bomb at him, which causes him to collapse, unconscious, to the ground. Denham then decides to take the beast as his pet and orders the crew back to the ship for chains. It would seem that such a beast would draw large ticket sales at an exhibit.

Back in New York City, Denham puts together a new Broadway spectacular: "KING KONG EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD.” If someone was charging $20 a ticket in the Depression, whatever was behind the velvet curtain must be awesome! When the curtain goes up the audience is faced with a giant ape/gorilla chained to a steel contraption. Denham has Jack and Ann come on stage and relays their story to the crowd. When flashbulbs start going off (plus the fact that his golden woman is with that other guy), Kong becomes irate and begins to break free from his chains. Jack tries to take Ann out of the theater and into a nearby hotel before Kong can get to her, but the beast catches glimpse of them. As he makes his way through Manhattan he wreaks havoc. Hearing a screaming woman from the hotel, Kong believes he’s heard Ann’s mating call, and he starts to scale the building. Reaching into one room he finds a sleeping woman who isn’t Ann, so he drops her to her imminent death on the street below. Finally, he reaches his golden woman and carries her through Manhattan. He takes out an elevated train and a number of cars on his way to what he perceives as the tallest tree in this asphalt jungle—the Empire State Building.

And this sets the scene for one of the most iconic images in film history. With armed airplanes circling, Kong swats at them like they are flies. When bullets rip through his body, Kong knows it’s the end. He takes one final look at his beauty and puts her down on a ledge and then falls to his death. Of course, Jack shows up and rescues Ann from the ledge, but who really cares…Kong is dead!

Overall, an impressive display of special effects—especially when one considers this film was made in the early 1930s. In addition, the story was a clever retelling of the classic Beauty and the Beast story. Another fabulous thing about this film is Max Steiner’s musical score, which was the first feature-length score in an American sound picture. All of the special effects were matched to Steiner’s score, and this made the action sequences even more dramatic.

Oh, and for those of you who enjoy watching those cheesy science fiction monster films, it all started with King Kong. And, what about the Japanese? Where would they be without their Godzilla—a byproduct of what was created in an RKO studio in the 1930s. Often repeated with some questionable remakes, but never surpassed, King Kong is a true classic film.

Read More