Moviefied.com

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"Secret Agent" (1936)

They're well nigh on being 80 years old, but the films of Alfred Hitchcock's British Period, his vastly entertaining oeuvre before he crossed over the pond to the cinematic heights of Hollywood, are looking as fresh and fascinating as ever. Case in point: this very fine spy picture that boasts some haunting visual set pieces and a thoughtful study on the human toll of war and the causal need for state sanctioned murder. John Gielgud is a reluctant undercover British agent sent to Switzerland to find and kill a notorious German spy. He's aided by a scene stealing Peter Lorre as an amoral devil doll sidekick. There's no low ebb in this amped up performance; he's a walking id leering at all the ladies or dead set on enemy homicide. The cooly beautiful Madeleine Carroll--the proto "Hitchcock Blonde"-- is also on hand as the third spy assigned to the case. She's Gielgud's marital cover, slowly falling for her faux hubby, but also swatting away the advances of a charming American tourist, Robert "Marcus Welby" Young. The cast effortlessly handles the witty dialog and espionage derring-do, while Hitchcock cannily exploits the Teutonic locale. You get loads of Alps, mountain climbing, cute Dachshunds, and a sinister chocolate factory, but more importantly, a thoughtful meditation on the price of human life during wartime. Best of all, you can catch this gem on YouTube, see it here.

"This Gun for Hire" (1942)

He was chiseled but notoriously short for a leading man,  and her icy features were hidden most of the time behind a famous peek-a-boo hairstyle, but for a brief moment in Hollywood history they were the IT couple starring in seven films together. The best were films noir that showcased their sexy cool chemistry. Like this very fine outing, their first pairing. Everyone here is after oily Laird Cregar who has sold some wartime chemical weapons secrets to the Japanese (he's the heavy alright, much is made of his insatiable appetite). Ladd is an amoral hitman who Cregar has double-crossed, he's monomaniacally hellbent on revenge. Lake is a nightclub singer who the baddie has his eye on, so the Feds enlist her to ferret him out. And then there's Robert Preston as her affable detective boyfriend who's on the case too. It's a roundelay of chases and intrigue in a grimy, realistic Las Angeles, still looking worn and weary from the Depression. There are a number of offbeat touches that give the story some witty bite, like Lake's two nifty nightclub numbers penned by tunesmith Frank Loesser. Cutting through it all is the magnetic attraction of the two stars and the agitated tripwire performance of Ladd. No wonder this portrait of pure menace put him on the map. Poor Preston, he had top billing but you almost forget he's in the picture. Oh, extra points for one of the best film posters of all time too.

"The Fugitive Kind" (1960)

This screen adaptation of Tennessee Williams' play "Orpheus Descending" is rambling and messy but it boasts some fine acting by four of the last century's greats, all of them Oscar winners. A modern day telling of the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus, Marlon Brando is the studly guitar toting wanderer who happens upon a small Southern town and charms a trio of pent of up women. There's Maureen Stapleton, the bigoted local sheriff's wife, who mothers the stranger; Joanne Woodward, the artsy beatnik who just wants to bed him; and Anna Magnani, the middle aged proprietress of the town mercantile caught in a stifling marriage and in sore need of love. Director Sidney Lumet creates a fine sense of longing and desperation as the characters all intermingle and untangle until the final tragic denouement. (You don't have to be Edith Hamilton to know Brando's character is destined for a bad end, besides, this is Tennessee Williams Land, is there any other option?). See it especially for a couple of the playwright's patented and haunting soliloquy's; he had Brando in mind when he wrote the play, and the actor is mesmerizing here. There's a reason he was considered one of the best of his time. He's scary good.

The Big Knife (1955)

Hollywood has a penchant for making movies about itself. And the painfully obvious message in most of them is--SPOILER ALERT: It's a not very nice place filled with awful people! Duh, right? But if you can get past that plain fact, some of these pictures, like this very good entry from director Robert Aldrich, have much to recommend themselves. This one starts with an outstanding cast where everyone is giving it all they've got. Jack Palance plays one of his rare non-villain roles as a sensitive leading man, a big star who's put his career playing rote rolls in sub-par (but successful) westerns and boxing movies ahead of his family life and suffering wife, Ida Lupino. She and his obsequious manager (Everett Sloane) are the only two people in his corner. The rest of the cast are all out for a piece of his flesh. The slimy studio chief, a howling and teeth gnashing Rod Steiger, and his fixer, low-keyed and lethal Wendall Corey. Ilka Chase is a nasty Hedda Hopper-like gossip columnist who only wants some salacious copy and Jean Hagen and Shelley Winters are two Hollywood bimbos who both hold some secrets on Palance that could wreck his career. At times talky and overwrought, this adaptation of Cifford Odets play still delivers the goods because, well, don't we love to seeing all those rich and beautiful people suffer just a little for all the good fortune they've been given? You betcha.

"I'll Cry Tomorrow" (1955)

In the 1950's Susan Hayward was the queen of the biopics. This is her portrayal of the largely forgotten actress Lillian Roth. Back then there was no People magazine, no E! News, no Oprah. So when Roth published her tell-all autobiography about her quick rise to fame and fortune at a young age, and then the inevitable downward spiral into booze and the poor house, it was a media sensation.  The movie adaption was a lock. Hayward plays to the bleachers here with a performance that pulls no punches. She throws herself into one ugly drunken binge scene after another until, yes, she does end up literally blotto, stumbling into a gutter. Lucky for her there's kindly Eddie Albert as her AA coach to lift her back to sobriety and a noble ending. Jo Van Fleet is on hand as Roth's domineering and scary stage mother as well as a creepy turn by Richard Conte as a wife-beating husband. But it's Hayward's picture all the way, doing a more than admirable job at several big musical numbers showcasing Roth's big pop hits like "Sing You Sinners" and "When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob Bob Bobbin' Along."

"Deception" (1946)

Passion, lies, murder...and classical music. Like Warner Brothers' "Mildred Pierce" with Joan Crawford the year before, this women's picture slash film noir, is a star turn for that other grand dame of the cinema, Bette Davis. She's the protege and former lover of an internationally famous composer played to the hammy hilt by Claude Rains. When the cellist lover she had assumed died in the War (Paul Heinreid) turns stateside and they rekindle their old flame, she decides not to tell him about her svengali ex, he's been through too much turmoil. And that's only deception #1. Davis' titular lies keep piling up like the shoulder pads on her '40s evening gowns. At times chatty and borderline campy, it's worth seeing if only for Davis' New York loft apartment, so ahead of it's time it could be on the cover of ELLE Decor next month. The several concert sequences are first rate, the black and white cinematography lensed by Ernest Haller is lush, and for an extra hoot, check out how they filmed Heinreid playing the cello: not one but two real instrumentalists slip their arms thru his jacket and 'double' for his fiddlin' arms! Sublime kookiness.