"The Private Life of Henry VIII" (1933)

A nursery rhyme spoiler: “King Henry VIII, To six wives he was wedded, One died, one survived, Two divorced, two beheaded.” And even if you know how it all plays out this movie is not a dry ‘Masterpiece Theatre’ history lesson. It’s surprisingly zippy, funny, and— because it was made in Pre-Code 1930’s—downright bawdy. The story of the revolving door marriages plays almost like a series of blackout sketches as the famous king moves from one wife to the next, it keeps things moving. Charles Laughton bagged an Oscar for his portrayal of the corpulent king. If you have the stomach for another overbearing, ill-mannered, sexist pig of a leader then by all means give this one a chance. Unlike the 45th POTUS, you discover there’s a human underneath his public pomposity. And the bonafide scene stealer here is Elsa Lanchester (the real Mrs. Laughton), as Henry’s fourth wife Anne of Cleves. She does a hilarious, almost slapstick take on the German princess that should have bagged her an Oscar as well.  

"36 Hours" (1964)

A very fine WWII thriller from the 1960’s. By that time these kind of pictures were getting more fantastical, plots where the fiendishly evil-genius Nazis were devising all kinds of outlandish scenarios to gain world domination. On that scale this one is somewhat plausible, like “Oh geez, that’s pretty clever, how is this gonna end??” To describe the plot is to spoil the fun. It’s the kind of idea TV shows like “Mission:Impossible” and "Hogan's Heroes" would pilfer every episode just a few years later. The three leads, James Garner, Rod Taylor, and Eva Marie Saint, are all uniformly good, making you care for the characters way more than required. The smart script is by George Seaton and author Roald “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” Dahl! 

"No More Ladies" (1935)

The plot is paper thin, a beautiful socialite (Joan Crawford) has grown weary of her boyfriend (Robert Montgomery) and his womanizing ways. She tries to make him jealous (with cutie Franchot Tone in order to prove his love for her. Adapted from a play, it’s one of those ‘white telephone’ comedies from the 1930's, but the laughs are few and far between. Let’s be clear, there’s only one reason to watch: Crawford at the height of her chiseled beauty in a plethora of designer gowns by MGM’s star costumer, Adrian. Slinky, satiny, bare-backed, Crawford is the epitome of Depression-era glamour and she knows how to work those threads. For a few pennies it must have been well worth the audience’s escapism to watch this human dress form and live in her world if only for a fleeting moment. 

 

"Mourning Becomes Electra" (1947)

Are you game for a lengthy film based on Aeschylus’ tragic Greek “Oresteia” set during Reconstruction? Then this is right up your dramaturgical alley. It’s an interesting stunt that mostly pays off. It was originally the brainchild of playwright Eugene O’Neill for Broadway; this is a truncated, if still protracted exercise in all those symbolic psychological complexes that plague a certain family and their internecine dynamics after the death of the patriarch in wartime. Rosalind Russell and Michael Redgrave—the Electra and Orestes standins— are wonderfully impassioned as the ill-fated brother and sister. Their scenes together are topnotch. That’s the good news. Things go haywire anytime Katina Paxinou, the hell-bent mother steps ins. Of course this is part and parcel of the character, but Paxinou plays her scenes at such an exaggerated fever pitch it crosses over into camp. It’s laugh out loud BAD and you wonder how Russell kept a straight face in their scenes together. So it’s a mixed bag, two thirds great drama, one part guilty pleasure. As for the production itself, it’s a little threadbare, this is not the pleasurable opulence of “Gone With the Wind”, despite the family’s wealth. And the direction by Dudley Nichols is basic, if not overly stagey. As always it’s Russell who’ll you’ll remember.  

"Rachel and the Stranger" (1948)

If there’s such a thing as a chastely sexy movie this is it. A farmer the in mid-1800’s Ohio valley William Holden) becomes a widower and wants a mother for his young son. He settles for an indentured servant (Loretta Young). Yes, the premise is as gross as it sounds, but American history is not pretty. Now, no indentured servant ever looked like Young, perfect makeup, a mane of beautiful windblown hair, form fitting blouses, and no farmer ever looked as thirst-trappy as Holden either, golden blonde and shirtless. You know they’ll eventually fall in love just as sure as as their icy wariness of each other begins to thaw. The sexual tension builds through all the butter churning and back forty plowing when, lo,  the third part of the triangle shows up just to complicate things. Robert Mitchum is a wandering stranger with a guitar, he’s almost the sexy good version of the iconic bad man he would portray in “Night of the Hunter” seven years later. Young nicely underplays her part, this was her follow-up to her Oscar worthy performance the year before in “The Farmer’s Daughter”, and Holden and Mitchum are game for the romantic interplay. Things even turn adventurous for a climactic frontier face-off with some angry Shawnee who just want their land back. 

"Games" (1967)

A stylish neo-noir thriller set in the hip mod world of late ‘60s Manhattan. James Caan and Katherine Ross are a chic wealthy couple who encounter a mysterious woman (Simone Signoret) and begin a series of cat and mouse mindgames just for the thrlll of it. And like the saying goes, “it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt”. Cue the blood. There are lots of twists and shocks amongst the fashionable trappings (these folks’ Upper East Side townhouse is awash in Segals, Warhols, and Fornasettis), and Caan and Ross look like a Vogue fashion spread. If you’re a student of French Cinema then you might see the surprise ending coming thru the Lincoln Tunnel in a snazzy sports car (the casting of Signoret is the dead give-away, pun intended), but otherwise, it’s a kicky goose-pimply ride. 

"Jezebel" (1938)

One of the most iconic Bette Davis roles, and that’s saying a lot given how many she was able to rack up in her long career. She’s a headstrong antebellum belle in New Orleans who does just about everything within her stubborn, headstrong self to sabotage her relationship with the most eligible and handsome man in town (swoonworthy Henry Fonda). When she calls his bluff for her affections one too many times things get complicated. This movie was an obvious play to steal the box office thunder from “Gone With the Wind” but it turns out there was room for more than one Southern beyotch at the plantation. Davis owns the role with a vengeance. Yes, there are histrionics but measured subtleties too. Just watch the scene where Fonda breaks the news that he’s found someone else. Shock, pain, acknowledgment, sadness, and resolve wash across her face in a matter of seconds. That’s film acting artistry. One sticking point: the depiction of African American slaves is awful. At best they’re used as background props and at worst, for uncomfortable comic relief. So be warned. 

"Kismet" (1954)

The desire to copy the musical comedy success of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “The King and I” is palpable here. Does it meet the challenge? Frankly, no. But there’s a still a lot to love. You get the Broadway pedigree, the Far East setting, the two sets of lovers, and a decent amount of comedic repartee. But it’s really the operatta-like score that saves the day. Hit songs like “Stranger in Paradise”, “Baubles, Bangles, and Beads”, and “The Lamp is Low” that have lyrics set to melodies taken from Alexander Borodin classical pieces and sung by the the leads Howard Keel, Dolores Gray, Vic Damone, and Anne Blythe. All four, especially the under appreciated throaty-voiced Gray, turn in fine performances despite the weak script. And while the direction by Vincent Minelli is by-the-numbers, the production looks terrific in a stylized Hollywood Goes to Arabia fashion. You’ve never seen so much silk and satin in one place. Also of note is the jazzy and acrobatic choreography by Jack Cole. There are a couple of numbers that really stand out, they’re probably not based on Middle Eastern dance moves, but boy, are they sexy and fun. 

"Mogambo" (1953)

It doesn’t feel like a John Ford movie…and that’s the good news. It’s sexier and feels more ‘adult’ than you usually get with his simplistic fare. A good solid script by John Lee Mahin decidedly helps. Clark Gable is a big game hunter in the wilds of Africa vacillating between the love of two otherworldly beautiful women who just happen to be in his neck of the veldt, lusty Ava Gardner and prim Grace Kelly. (Don’t ask, only in Hollywood, folks.) You could probably make a lot of theories about who’s really the hunter here and who’s the hunted, but why overthink the surface appeal of the gorgeous locations and three iconic leads. Gardner is especially alluring doing her patented ‘earthy’ thing, at turns funny and ravishing. And there’s some authentic wildlife footage mixed into the proceedings, especially some up-close-and-personal stuff of a family of gorillas that’s aces. 

"The Feminine Touch" (1941)

The plot is convoluted and repetitive—two couples jealously mix and mingle— but when you’ve got four leads like Don Ameche, Rosalind Russell, Kay Francis, and Van Heflin delivering the rapid fire dialog and gags with nonchalant ease it’s lighter than air delicious. Director W.S.Van Dyke, who helmed the immensely popular ‘Thin Man’ movies, keeps the laughs coming like soap bubbles that keep popping before your eyes. You admire the sheen and before you know it, POOF!, you’re onto the next funny set-up. 

"Kiss of Death" (1947)

Richard Widmark made an indelible mark on Hollywood history here with one of the most auspicious film debuts ever. His portrayal of villain Johnny Uto is at turns smarmy, funny, engrossing, and chilling…no one had ever seen a pure sociopath depicted on the screen like this. He walks away with the movie in his pocket right under the nose of the earnest lead Victor Mature. The story is solid noir fare. Mature is a two-bit convict made to turn state’s evidence by Assistant D.A. Brian Donlevy against Widmark. Revenge ensues and it makes for some nice suspense set pieces between the two leads. Credit director Henry Hathaway for that and the almost documentary feel of the whole enterprise. And let’s not forget the notorious murder scene with Widmark that’s the definition of twisted. Is is so sick it’s funny…or the other way around? Either way it’s it’s unforgettable.

"Green Fire" (1953)

One of those slick technicolor adventure romances where a bunch of white leading characters entangle with love and intrigue in an exotic locale amongst ‘lesser’ people of color reduced to mere background props. Stewart Granger is a looking for elusive emeralds in the mountains of Colombia. There he meets and woos the beautiful owner of a coffee plantation (Grace Kelly) whose land may or may not contain those green rocks. Granger’s effortless swagger salvages the picture. He’s a got a sense of humor in his delivery, the lovable cad syndrome that always works. Kelly is a little stiff but it suits her character. And boy, does the look great in a bevy of Helen Rose peasant skirts. 

"Sister Kenny" (1946

We’d all prefer our Rosalind Russell as a funny lady. Nobody was better ‘cept maybe Ms. Ball on television. But even a dramatic Roz is better than most actresses anyday. And so here we get her in a sincere if somewhat humorless biopic as the selfless Sister Kenny, an early 20th Century nurse who pioneered treatment for children’s “infant paralysis”, later defined as polio. (You can already see why there are no laughs). Nevertheless it’s quite fun to see the feminist streak running thru the tale as, time and again, the domineering nurse has to defend her theories (and herself) to countless hospital administrations filled with skeptical male doctors. How could a lowly nurse know anything about medical research? It would be nice to say such patronizing practices are a relic of the past, but in this post-feminist #metoo world it’s sad to say they’re not.

"Kings Row" (1942)

It could be argued that Ronald Reagan's greatest performance was as the All American cowboy President, the right-leaning paragon of conservative politics saving the country from all manner of foreign and liberal  evils. His achievements as Commander in Chief didn't really add up to much, but he sure convinced most people otherwise. But what about his career in Hollywood? Most film historians usually point to his supporting role in this glossy Warner Brothers melodrama. It's adapted from a trashy bestseller by Henry Bellaman, one of those multi character page turners that uncovers all the dark secrets behind the sunny facade of SmallTown, USA. Rife with taboos like murder, incest, sadomasochism, psychomania, adultery, and closeted homosexuality it was a given that it be totally scrubbed up and whitewashed for mainstream movie audiences. And for the most part, it works. All the bad stuff is merely hinted at, but what's left still guilty pleasure fun. We watch a group of turn-of-the-century friends grow from children into young adults navigating all sorts of personal tortures and achievements. Reagan is an brash athletic ladies' man, the town stud who's so destined for success you know that a tragic downfall is all but certain. And when it comes it's a doozy, probably his finest (and famous) moment on film. The real standout though is the criminally forgotten Ann Sheridan as the warm hearted girl from the (literally) wrong side of the tracks. There's a lovely genuineness to every scene she's in. Outstanding camerawork by lensman James Wong Howe and a beloved score by Erich Wolfgang Korngold make this a must-view for anybody who loves slick Old Hollywood fare. 

"China Seas" (1935)

You really can't go wrong with a cast like this. Put Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, Wallace Beery, and Rosalind Russell aboard a ship in the South China Sea and throw in a love triangle, some gun-running intrigue, a few action sequences, and some snappy dialogue and you come out a winner. This is basically the same set-up as the Gable/Harlow success "Red Dust" from a few years prior, he's the ship's captain, the mancatch torn between a prim socialite (Russell, in what she called her career's "Lady Mary" stage), and an earthier sexpot (guess who). Beery is the piece's villain, trying to pull off the weapons skullduggery under the eyes of Gable. There are no real surprises but it leaves you feeling like you got your entertainment's worth. 

"The Best of Everything" (1959)

The great film critic Pauline Kael once wrote, "Movies are so rarely great art that if we cannot appreciate great trash we have very little reason to be interested in them." This mid-century potboiler is trash of a very high caliber. It's the kind of film you know is "good bad" going in, and you know the filmmakers know you know it too, so everyone just sits back and wallows in the gooey lushness of the proceedings. It was probably a hoot to make and it's an even bigger one to watch. It uses that tried-and-true plot trope of three young women coming to the big city seeking careers and love. From "Three on a Match" to "How To Marry a Millionaire" to "Valley of the Dolls", Hollywood has mined a lot of gold (or at least gold plate) from this set-up. Here, the blonde, brunette, and redhead are Hope Lange, Diane Baker, and Suzy Parker. They're all eager gals in the typing pool of a successful Manhattan publishing company with Big Dreams of moving up the corporate ladder thru hard work...or maybe just snagging that handsome Vice President by the water cooler (here played by cleft-chinned Stephen Boyd). They have to dodge the roaming hands of the old drunken letch in the corner office (Brian Aherne) and the withering condescension of the brittle bitch boss editor, Joan Crawford. Each of the three lovelies falls for her own Mr. Wrong, so there's lots of sturm und drang about pre-marital sex, this being the buttoned down 1950's. Should she or shouldn't she? Only her screenwriter knows for sure. The whole thing plays like a long lost episode of "Mad Men" but without the incisive dialog or character development. But that's not a bad thing. One man's movie trash is another's treasure. The production has that sleek modern sheen of post-War America (the office is in the iconic Seagram Building). Men in gray flannel suits, women in Lilly Daché Juliette caps, lots of burnt orange and turquoise walls with abstract art...it's a mid-century wet dream. Add to that a syrupy score by Alfred Neuman and a title song by Johnny Mathis and it's popcorn time.

"A Letter to Three Wives" (1949)

A year before he made the classic "All About Eve", director  Joseph L. Mankiewicz made this acerbic   examination of marriage and suburbia. It starts with a gimmicky plot device: a small town she-devil who we only hear in voice-over, sends a poison pen letter to three good friends informing them she's running off with one of their husbands that night, but not which one she's stealing. So each of the ladies (a great cast of Jeanne Crain, Ann Sothern, and Linda Darnell), woolgather into a flashback where we get a snapshot of their marriages. Crain feels socially inadequate to her society husband, Southern is going for that work/life balance in a two career family, and Darnell cunningly married for money. The dialog is snappy and funny and each of the ladies shine, especially Darnell who has a droll way with her character's world-weary pragmatism. Despite it's age the script still feels fresh, maybe it's because women still struggle with the same marital hurdles today. Look for an uncredited Thelma Ritter in one of her first film roles, she swipes the whole picture in a few choice scenes.

"The Southerner" (1945)

It's a tall order: make watchable entertainment out of seemingly impossible subject matter. But legendary French director Jean Renoir ("The Rules of the Game", "Grand Illusion") pulls it off --mostly. This is the story about a year in the life of a poor backwoods family trying, against all odds, to begin a sustainable farm for their livelihood. And when I say poor, I mean dirt poor. No shoes, living in a miserable rundown shack held together with newspaper patched walls, always hungry, always fighting the elements...not the usual escapist Hollywood fare by a long shot. The scene where they finally catch a possum and happily chow down on the greasy meat is equal parts gross and heartwarming. Perjoratively, some would call these folks 'white trash' or 'hillbillies'. Here, Renoir enobles their struggle, imbuing their grit with that American Puritan work ethic so that we root for them no matter what. No doubt this played well to a WWII audience. Zachary Scott is the father, the backbone of the family. He is most famously remembered as the slick and slimy boyfriend of Joan Crawford in "Mildred Pierce". This is a one-eighty from that. He turns up the volume on his real Texas-bred accent and he's a stalwart charmer with an aw-shucks positivity that doesn't feel corny. It doesn't hurt that his matinee idol looks make him easy to watch, he's almost always in well worn chambray shirts and faded dungarees looking like a model in a Ralph Lauren Jeans ad. The wife is a chipper Betty Field, an underrated actress who would go on to a long career in character roles. Again, she's awfully pretty after a scorching day of cotton picking, coiffed hair and dewey makeup, but that's Hollywood for ya. It can't be ignored so let's get the worst part of the film out on the table: the granny role, played here by Beulah Bondi, is so badly written and acted it makes your teeth hurt. Bondi's hammy, crotchety corn pone delivery makes Irene Ryan's Granny Clampett look like Shakespearean acting. It's worth the unintentional chuckles it elicits, so just enjoy the rest of the picture.

"The Heiress" (1949)

Everything is pitch perfect in this costume drama adapted from the Broadway play based on the Henry James novella "Washington Square." Olivia de Havilland is the title character, an unexceptional only child of a very wealthy doctor (Ralph Richardson) in 1840's New York City. She's what polite folks would call 'a plain girl'. And boy, does her domineering dad let her know it every chance he gets. Sometimes the wounds from family are the deepest ones of all. When she gets the romantic attention of an extremely handsome but penniless social climber (Montgomery Clift), her father balks. He's not buying it and flatly says so. The drama builds on two fronts: will she defy her father for this new beau and risk her inheritance? And more importantly will we find out if this suitor is truly sincere in his feelings? How we watch de Havilland's character confront these emotional hurdles is the stuff of stellar movie acting. She won a well-deserved second Oscar for this performance. Richardson is haughty menace personified, a cruel example of the unfair power men can yield over women (as if you need to go back to Old New York to find it). Beautiful Clift, chiseled and cheekboned, in the role that would catapult him into true stardom, dances a fine line. You don't really know his true feelings for this woman until the famous ending. And get ready, because the final scenes are heartbreaking, cathartic, and chilling all at once. And let's not forget a great supporting turn by Miriam Hopkins as the supportive confidante aunt, her comic timing is needed to break up all the heavy phychological mayhem getting thrown about. Expertly directed by William Wyler with a nice score by composer Aaron Copland.

"Children of Paradise" (1945)

Long considered one of the linchpins of 20th Century French cinema, how you feel about this grand, sweeping epic might hinge on your tolerance for doomed love stories told at a fever pitch. If you like swooning then this is your movie. We're in 1840's Paris with of a group of romantically intertwined actors in a pantomime theatre troupe. They meet cute, fall in love, have sex, fight, fall out of love, get jealous, spurn each other...over and over, you get the picture. It's all that very, very French outlook on life of 'better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'. The dialog tends toward the overwrought purply type and there's a lot of it, the thing clocks in at over three hours. But here's the thing, there's no denying the production is a feast for the eyes. The production design is superb, the recreation of the Paris streets are like nothing you've seen, with reportedly thousands of extras. There are numerous theatre and plays depicted with sumptuous sets, the acting milieu in front and behind the curtain is painstakingly depicted. This was the most expensive film made in that country up til that time,  which is how it got the nickname "France's Gone With the Wind." And then there's the mime. Wait, don't tune out! The mime scenes and playlets are pure joy to watch. Put any thoughts of a Frenchified Shields and Yarnell skit out of your head. The standout performer (and probably the best in the movie) is Jean-Louis Barrault. He's touching, funny, with liquid body movements that make you look at this kind of performing anew, and in the speaking part of the role his take on unrequited love will break your heart.