"Carmen Jones" (1954)

In the early 1940's Oscar Hammerstein took Bizet's celebrated opera "Carmen" and adapted it for the Broadway stage, shifting it to modern times and using an all black cast. It took Hollywood over a decade to bring it to the screen. This is a faithful, Technicolor version. While it's great to see a bigscreen "A" picture about people of color, especially considering when it was released, Hammerstein's lyrics are a tad icky, using a white man's take on black patois, songs like "Dat's Love", "Dere's a Café on the Corner", "De Cards Don' Lie", etc. That aside, there's no denying the power of those timeless tunes. What's better is the grand larceny Dorothy Dandridge gets away with here. She steals the entire movie, as she rightly should in one of the great femme fatale roles of all time. Carmen is sexy, flirty, wily, opportunistic, and downright mean, sometimes all at once. But Dandridge, seductively decked out in tight skirts, peasant blouses, and gypsy hoop earrings, is such a refreshing one-eighty from all those servant roles we had seen black women playing for decades, you can't help but be captivated. No wonder her love interest, here played by an earnest, if slightly bland, Harry Belafonte, falls for her heavily. What a tragedy that this gifted actress went on to so few other starring parts (and a too early demise). Other standouts: a dynamic Pearl Bailey in the second female lead as Carmen's best friend, belting out a big band number along with a young Diahann Carroll as her cohort. And if you're a fan of great title sequences,  this is the first of many by the groundbreaking Saul Bass, it's graphic, simple, and elegant.

"Battleground" (1949)

By the end of the 1940's it seemed the country was world weary of World War II movies. But this story of one squadron during the Battle of the Bulge, based on the real 101st Airborne Division, was a huge success. It was probably because it eschewed the rah-rah boosterism of all the films made during the war, the ones that tried, successfully, to show why we were fighting and gosh-darn-it that we could win. A new spin on the war picture was needed. So director William Wellman and Oscar winner for Best Screenplay, Robert Pirosh, instead chose to depict the daily soul-sapping grind of the lives of the soldiers. The inedible food, the sleepless nights, the fierce cold and frostbite (it takes place in the harsh winter of 1944-45 in the French countryside), and the psychological toll of knowing you could die any moment, are all vividly brought to life by an all-star cast of great actors. Van Johnson, John Hodiak, Ricardo Montalban, James Whitmore, Leon Ames, Richard Jaeckel, all get moments to shine. Yes, there's still a bit of the cliché melting pot idea here that was so prevalent in many WWII flicks, you know, all the American archetypes pulling together to vanquish The Evil Enemy, but here it doesn't seem forced. The film has a nice documentary feel too as it follows the men on their grueling cross country trek. It helps that some actual footage of the battle is interspersed to nice effect.

"The Snake Pit" (1948)

Olivia de Havilland goes for broke in her Oscar nominated performance as a beleaguered woman suffering a nervous breakdown and enduring lockup in a mental hospital. It probably can't be stated how shocking this picture's inside look at life in a looney bin must have been for audiences of that time. Given this was a Hollywood depiction, it was probably sanitized somewhat, but it's still a disturbing peek into the daily hell of being surrounded with crying, screeching, gibbering, unpredictable patients. De Havilland eschews any pretense of looking like a star here, stripped of makeup, frowzy and disheveled, she does a fine job of showing us a personality disorder where everyday is lived on the knife edge between normalcy and insanity. If the therapy and 'solution' to her psychological problem are a little too pat (she's helped by a kindhearted doctor, Leo Genn), chalk that up to the film being a primer on mental help therapies for the uninitiated viewer. Director Anatole Litvak does an admirable job of juggling the soap opera and horror elements, bringing it all home to a satisfying note of closure and heart.

"East of Eden" (1955)

John Steinbeck had a great idea for a novel, tell a modern day version of the Book of Genesis. But his plot is meandering and repetitive, there's not one but two sets of Cain and Abel! This big screen adaptation only tells the last third of the tome, probably a wise choice as it's the most plot heavy, and best part. The film is best remembered as a showcase for actor James Dean. This was his movie debut and with it he shot into the zeitgeist like a Roman candle. His emotive, raw nerve acting style was such a departure from the norm that he became the embodiment of Misunderstood Youth, a social phenomenon that would only snowball as the decade progressed into the 1960's. Today his mumbling and body contortioning seems mannered but you do end up feeling for his love-starved character, a young man who is destined to destroy his twin brother (sorry if you haven't kept up with your Bible and that's a spoiler). Raymond Massey is the stern Adam/father and Jo Van Fleet is the Eve/fallen mother who walked away with the Oscar for her coiled sinister performance. Director Elia Kazan tries some baroque camera techniques to convey the family's unbalanced dynamic; it's not always successful. But it's Dean that's the draw here, you can't take your eyes off him. It's a fleeting glimpse of what would become a Hollywood icon in just three films before his life was cut short in a tragic death.

"Dial 1119" (1950)

True fact: the national emergency call number 911 was not fully adopted across the country until the late 1960's. Until then, various numbers were used regionally, hence the title of this tight, suspenseful little noir. And there's an emergency alright: an escaped mental patient (Marshall Thompson) goes on a murder spree and finally holes up in a late night bar taking a few hostages at gunpoint. The story cross cuts between the lunatic's tormenting of these character types, learning their backstories (a washed up reporter, a prim single gal on a date with an older man, the gin-soaked floozy barfly, etc), and the cops out on the street trying to form a game plan to rescue the bunch. The film is notable for a couple of prescient observations. There's a big hulking contraption up in the corner, one of those new-fangled televisions, and the people trapped inside get to see their predicament played out on the local news in real time, a canny prediction of media circuses to come. There's also some dramatic friction with the main homicide detective and a criminal psychologist about how to deal with this loony. Again, this was way before 'profilers' and 'mindhunters' became everyday catchphrases. Look for two fun cameos also. TV's "Cannon", William Conrad, is the easygoing barkeep and Beaver Cleaver's pearl-clad mom, Barbara Billingsly, has a few deft lines as newspaper secretary.

"Marty" (1955)

Hollywood historians often name this the first independent movie, one made outside the traditional studio system of the day. It was a huge success, maybe because it zigged while all the big films zagged. Instead of a Technicolor/Cinerama/Vistavision extravaganza, which conventional thought said "give 'em what they can't get at home on their TV", this small story went into the belly of the beast. It was a adaptation of a teleplay already aired on the small screen. Paddy Chafesky re-tooled his own work and turned out a very affecting and simple story of a lonely Bronx butcher (Ernest Borgnine) looking for love and finding it in a fellow LonelyHeart (Betsy Blair). More than just a character study, it now serves as a window into how stifling society norms used to be concerning age, singlehood, dating, and marriage. Maybe the most shocking is the out-and-out body shaming that goes on here. The two leads are constantly referring to themselves as "dogs", "fat", "plain", etc. Fun times. That said, you'll find lots of feels here. Manipulative? You betcha. But sometimes an ugly cry can be pretty too.

"The Stranger" (1946)

Director Orson Welles would dismiss this thriller-noir as his least favorite of his pictures. Probably because there's little nuance here, in character, theme, or plot; it's a straightforward post-WII suspenser about a kindly college professor (Welles himself) who's actually a vicious Nazi war criminal hiding out in a Norman Rockwell small town. But accessible does not mean bad, and entertaining doesn't mean ignore it. The tight script works to it's advantage as a dogged investigator from the War Crimes Commission (Edward G. Robinson), get's closer and closer to revealing Welles identity secret. He's sort of a precursor to TV's "Coumbo", annoying Welles with incessant questions and snooping. Loretta Young is on hand as the unwitting fiance of the villain, she's not that bright but you need someone sympathetic in grave peril by the finale to kick up the nail-biting. There's a lot of debt owed to Hitchcock's "Shadow of a Doubt"here, another tale of a creep taking cover in Nice Anytown, USA, but that's quite okay. It brings to mind that quote from Picasso, "Good artists copy. Great artists steal."

"Thieves' Highway" (1949)

A surprisingly terrific film noir set in the unlike milieu of --wait for it--produce truckers in rural California. Yes, before you start throwing tomatoes give it a chance. Director Jules Dassin gives the proceedings an almost documentary feel, as he did with "The Naked City" the year before. It's greasy, gritty and ultimately makes you glad you're not the poor soul driving all those nighttime lonely hours fighting fatigue and insomnia. Richard Conte is a vet returning home to find his father, a trucker himself, was swindled by an unscrupulous wholesaler (Lee J. Cobb). He sets out on the road to avenge the wrongdoing with a truckload of apples in tow. Along the way there are near scrapes and seedy characters with big dollops of suspense thrown in for good measure. Valentina Cortesa shows up as the hooker who might be working for Cobb. He plays the baddie with the Smarm-O-Meter turned up to 11. Was there anybody better at playing loudmouthed menacing louts? This a forgotten gem that shows just how much storytelling elasticity there is in this fascinating genre.

"Soylent Green" (1973)

Charlton Heston had a career renaissance in the late 1960's and early '70's starring in a number of dystopian science fiction films, unsettling and cautionary depictions of our planet's future where man's meddling has turned things rather ugly. This one has a quasi-noir feel. He's a police detective assigned to the murder of a very wealthy corporate bigwig (Joseph Cotten), who's on the board of a food manufacturing conglomerate. They make a foodstuff that looks like flat crackers, red, yellow, and their brand new offering, green! It's essentially the only affordable edible around and the dirty huddled masses have to fight and clamor for just a few squares of it. Cotten was going public with Big Dirty Secrets about this stuff. Why was he killed? The answer is one of the great reveals in movie history and it's worth getting to the last reel to find out what's what. Heston is serviceable, he made a career of being the tight-jawed hero, gritting out his lines; the real scene-stealer here is irascible Edward G. Robinson in his last film (his 101st!), as Heston's researcher and buddy roommate. He has an affecting scene where he decides to leave this crappy world but not before one last moment of beauty. There's one harrowing set piece where the cops have to take bulldozers to the rioting hordes who are literally dying for their Soylent, pretty scary. And a chilling opening montage that only takes a few minutes to show how we've royally screwed a planet that took eons to build. But there's no such thing as man-made climate change, right?

"Broken Arrow" (1959)

This is one of those good news/bad news movies. THE GOOD: it was Jimmy Stewart's first western, a genre he would later do great things with all during the 1950's, especially the five terrific pictures he would make with director Anthony Mann (yes, he did make "Destry Rides Again" in 1939 but that was more of a romantic comedy than a real western, just saying). Apache raids are hindering railroad travel thru the Arizona territory and Stewart is the emissary sent in to create an armistice between the Indians and the US Army. Sincere pains are taken here to depict the Apaches as human beings who are rebelling at their lands being stolen, not vicious savages as was Hollywood's usual custom. Stewart even falls in love with one of the beautiful squaws, whoa, interracial romance! But that leads us to THE BAD: the two biggest Apaches roles are filled by white actors (cue the sad trombone). Oscar nominated Jeff Chandler and lovely Debra Paget play Cochise, the noble Apache leader, and the maiden love interest. They both do an adequate job under a lot of dark pancake makeup...but really? It's easy to poke fun at a 70 year old movie's best intentions, so let's just chalk it up to "at least they were trying". All that said, Stewart is more than fine as the peacemaker trying to make both sides come together, even if he is a bit too old for Paget. The older man/younger female co-star issue is still, sadly, haunting us to this day.

"Angel Face" (1953)

One of the constantly recurring tropes of film noir is the heartless femme fatale. In this twisted little film Jean Simmons (nicely playing against her usual good girl casting) is one of the sickest gals ever depicted in the genre. Right up there with Gene Tierney in "Leave Her To Heaven", Barbara Stanwyck in "Double Indemnity", and Jane Greer in "Out of the Past". Simmons is so wacko in this one she creates a constant sense of dread, of "what the hell is she gonna try and pull off now??" She plays a spoiled young L.A. heiress who sets her sites on Robert Mitchum, playing one of his working class dumb EveryGuys, an ambulance driver just barely getting by. You really can't figure out exactly what motivates Simmons' character here, she's just an embodiment of cunning feminine wiles, which probably made it scary viewing in the early 1950's. Pretty young ladies just didn't act this way. Director Otto Preminger keeps things moving apace, he knew his way around noir, see "Laura" for instance. And Dimitri Tiomkin's lush and sinister score adds the right amount of unsettlingness to the proceedings. But the real reason to give this one a try is not one, but two what-the-f**k murders that leave you gobsmacked. Like, "did that just happen?" moments that leave you reeling. You were warned. Take a spin into this dark tale, you won't regret it.

"Moby Dick" (1956)

In hindsight , Gregory Peck would often say that he was miscast as the mentally tormented protagonist Captain Ahab in this adaption of Herman Melville's Great American Novel, "Moby-Dick". Yes, he's much younger than the wizened seafarer of the book whose mono-maniacal obsession with killing a certain white whale brings on his own downfall, but Peck does good service to the role here. Maybe it's his constant flinty and squinty appearance, or his wonderful basso profundo voice barking out orders to the beleaguered crew on his ill-fated ship, the Peqoud, but he brings just the right amount of steely resolve and crazy to the part. Director John Huston, who co-wrote the script with science fiction writer Ray Bradbury, sticks fairly closely to the source material's plot. If you've read the book you know that's not saying much. The book is mostly an encyclopedic treatise on whales and the whaling industry of the mid-19th Century; Ahab's quest is the spine of the story but almost ancillary. Huston does an interesting treatment with the look of the film. He's de-saturated the colors to toasty sepias, charcoal grays, and cold ocean blues. It's like looking at old daguerreotypes come alive and it was done years before this kind of 'color grading' became popular in modern Hollywood films. And what about that whale, you ask? Remember, this was WAY before the proliferation of CGI special effects, so given that , ol' Moby doesn't look too shabby. Compare it to the more sophisticated whale effects of the more recent Ron Howard film "In the Heart of the Sea", the story of a whaling vessel that inspired Melville's tale, and you'll see the verisimilitude of the big fish holds up just fine.

Haiku review: "Jane Eyre" (2011)

Fresh take on Bronte.
Female empowerment on
those chilly, spare moors.

Haiku review: "Beach Rats" (2017)

South Queens townie teen
struggling with sexuality.
Engrossing milieu.

Haiku review: "Kingsmen: The Secret Service" (2014)

Rule Britannia
with cheeky spies and villains.
James Bond on steroids.

Haiku review: "Deadpool" (2016)

Potty mouthed hero,
irreverent crusader
for snark and justice.

Haiku review: "The Road" (2009)

Unsparing future,
man and son survival quest.
Oh, so harsh and bleak.

Haiku review: "Wonder Woman" (2017)

Super heroine,
Strong, empathically attuned.
What the genre needs.

"City of the Dead" (1960)

An eerie little chiller from the early 1960's that looks ahead to other genre fare of that decade like "Dark Shadows" and "Rosemary's Baby". A young co-ed (Venetia Stevenson) is doing her term paper on the New England witchcraft of the 17th Century. Her professor (Christopher Lee) suggests she visit his hometown and stay at the inn of an old friend. Well, when the professor is Christopher Lee you don't have to be a genius to see that he's not sending her to a lovely tea social at the local library. This town is Spooky City. And the inn's proprietress (Patricia Jessel) is even creepier. Maybe there's a connection to this town and a coven of witches way back when,  but I'll avoid any spoilers. Clearly the whole picture was done on a shoestring budget but that works to it's advantage. The entire town is created with sets, the requisite fog, and shadows. Director John Moxey keeps it all atmospheric with some well-timed scares along the way. There are even some parallels to Hitchcock's "Psycho" that debuted the same year. A worthwhile gem to discover, even better you can see it on YouTube here.

"42nd Street" (1933)

This backstage musical trots out every hoary cliché in the book, except this is the movie that invented all those clichés in the first place. The insanely driven director (Warner Baxter) who's teetering on killing himself from overwork, will his latest show push him over the edge? The wise cracking chorinnes (Una Merkel and Ginger Rogers) struggling to make ends meet who'll take any man or bit part, whichever comes first. And, best of all,  the naive ingenue (Ruby Keeler) fresh off the farm who has to take the lead on opening night when the aging star (Bebe Daniels) breaks her ankle. Even tho the pace and dialog are snappy with that sassy New York patois Warner Brothers made famous in gangster pictures, it's really the knockout musical numbers, staged by choreographic whiz Busby Berkely that make this a groundbreaking film. It's almost a misnomer to call what Berkeley does here choreography, he's basically using human bodies to create graphic shapes that swirl and undulate, surely groundbreaking for it's time. Yes, the story is all cornball, and Keeler's acting is wince causing, but it's still fun Hollywood history and a must see.