Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Thursday, February 23, 2017

"Romeo and Juliet" (1936)

Steep balconies and tight leotards. This is by no means a definitive version of Shakespeare's classic play, look to the stage for that, but it is a fine movie version of the celebrated work, one that showcases a major Golden Era Hollywood studio working at full throttle. MGM pulled no punches on the stars, sets, and costumes, that's because wunderkind producer Irving Thalberg wanted a showcase for his popular leading lady (and wife) Norma Shearer. Sure you can quibble with a lot here. Purists will cringe that more than half of the dialog of the play has been cut, but the essential story stays in tact. Shearer and  her co-star, Leslie Howard are way too long-in-the-tooth to play the star crossed teenaged lovers, but they both give sincere nuanced performances. Nothing stagey here, they're intimate and conversational, the age thing becomes moot. Credit director George Cukor for drawing out the realism in his cast, but for also balancing out the story with some big set-pieces. This production is stuffed with visual delights. Massive outdoor Verona sets for all those Capulet/Montagu sword fights, elaborate Agnes DeMille choreographed dance numbers for the party where the leads first meet (it's fun to visualize the dance at the gym from "West Side Story"here), and eye popping Renaissance costumes by Adrian. And then there's John Barrymore as Mercutio and Basil Rathbone as Tybalt. Again, both too old for the roles but what fun to hear those voices spouting the Bard. Reflecting years later , Cukor said he would have gotten more "garlic and Mediterranean into it" but it holds up fine and is worth the look.

Monday, February 20, 2017

"Trouble in Paradise" (1932)

Film historians have pegged this as Hollywood's first romantic comedy talkie. It's pure style and wit are of the kind rarely seen anymore, how sad is that? Herbert Marshall, droll and debonair, is having a torrid affair with Miriam Hopkins, smart and seductive. The catch is that they're not the high society denizens they purport to be, they're a thief and a pickpocket who prey on rich marks. When mega-wealthy perfume company heiress Kay Francis crosses their path, well, it's a larcenous opportunity too good to pass up. She falls for Herbert, he falls for her (maybe), and Hopkins is stuck in the middle. Lots of quick you-can't-believe-they-got-away-with-that banter and innuendo in this pre-Code script, the brainchild of director Ernst Lubitsch. It's sexy but not salacious, the hallmark of "the Lubitsch touch", that ethereal quality of storytelling that many have tried to copy ever since. Best to watch the real thing and revel.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Thursday, February 16, 2017

"The Outrage" (1964)

An intriguing curio, an art house Western. Director Martin Ritt and screenwriter Michael Kanin remade Akira Kurosawa's classic meditation on memory and truth, "Rashomon", and plopped the action in the old West of tumbleweeds and saguaro cacti. It almost works. Three travelers--a preacher (a pre-Trek William Shatner), a gambler (Edward G. Robinson), and a panhandler (Howard DaSilva)--meet at an abandoned railroad depot and recount a recent trial of a Mexican outlaw on trial for the murder and rape of a Southern aristocrat (Laurence Harvey) and his wife (Claire Bloom). In flashbacks we hear three different versions of what happened, all different (the murder victim's take is told thru the mystical conjuring of an old Indian shaman). Who do we believe? Who's telling the truth? And even more importantly, is truth ever really knowable? It's a profoundly simple premise that's been borrowed countless times since, but here's no better telling than Kurosawa's original. This one falls short for one big reason: the culprit is played by a game Paul Newman in dark pancake makeup and garbling a Frito Bandito accent. The performance just doesn't work in our PC culture. That said, the rest of the cast  does a fine job. And the first version's justly famous cinematography is rivaled by some beautiful work this time by master DP James Wong Howe. The dappled clearing where the crime takes place and the desert vistas look like Ansel Adams prints. There's also a less ambiguous and explanatory Hollywood ending, just to make sure you 'get it', as if us dumb Americans can't think for ourselves. A sincere, if failed, effort that film buffs will want to compare and contrast with the masterwork.

Monday, February 6, 2017

"My Favorite Year" (1982)

An affectionate valentine to Old Hollywood and the early days of live television. The year in question is 1954. The incomparable Peter O'Toole is a faded and boozy big screen swashbuckling idol--think Errol Flynn--who has been booked to guest star on the popular comedy/variety show of the day, "The King Kaiser Comedy Hour". It's up the the writing staff's novice, Benjy Stone, to keep O'Toole sober and present during the week's prep for the show. And although he commands the whole movie with a performance that deftly balances laughs and pathos, the rest of the supporting cast are all stellar, each carving out quirky characterizations that bounce off each other like fizzy bubbles. Mark Linn-Baker is the young writer, a newcomer whose timing rivals the best of the Borscht Belters. He holds his own with the formidable presence of O'Toole. Joseph Bologna is the bombastic headliner of the show, supposedly based on the infamous reputation of Sid Caesar. Other zany standouts are Bill Macy as the head writer, Selma Diamond as the sandpaper voiced wardrobe lady, Adoph Green as the manic producer, and Lainie Kazan as Linn-Baker's mother, who hosts the big star to a home cooked meal in the deep recesses of Brooklyn. This one sequence is worth seeing the whole picture, it's comedy gold. If the whole enterprise has the rhythms of a classic sitcom, like the writers' room scenes of the old "Dick Van Dyke Show",  that's not necessarily a bad thing. Director Richard Benjamin so clearly has a love of the era that it shows in every slapstick set piece and in the way the whole candy-colored production looks like a confection that could only exist in our misty water-colored memories.