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A Christmas Carol (1951)

Oct 081951

Miserly Ebenezer Scrooge (Alastair Sim), is visited by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, and learns the meaning of Christmas.

This British, B&W version of the well-known story is generally considered to be the finest version by critics and viewers alike, and I agree.

If you’re reading this, chances are you are well acquainted with Mr. Dicken’s ghostly tale of redemption and Christmas cheer. You may have seen it presented by the local high school, or watched a comedic take on a top rated sitcom. The story has been done to death (dead, like a coffin nail). So why watch another version? When a story is so well known and so often filmed, there must be something special, something that brings greater insight into the themes of the tale, or presents something new and unexpected, to make it worth your time. Most renditions don’t have that something special. While the 1999 Patrick Stewart and the 1984 George C. Scott takes on A Christmas Carol are satisfactory, there’s no compelling reason to seek them out. The 1951 version does supply that something special, in the form of an intelligent script, sharp editing, but mainly in Alastair Sim. Sim’s Scrooge is not just a grumpy old man. He’s cruel, but with a self-satisfied grin. There is humor locked away under that grim exterior. An extended back-story (well, extended compared to most versions) lets us see what happened to Scrooge and how he made mistake after mistake. While this material made it easier for me to care about the skinflint, it was more Sim’s performance, his puppy dog eyes and stuttering voice, that caught me as no other Scrooge has. When he finally finds the meaning of Christmas, his manic joy is contagious to the viewer. I laugh while watching this, something I never do with any other film adaptation of A Christmas Carol. I suspect you will too.

Don’t think that humor is the only thing making this the definitive version. If you are the type to shed a tear or hide in fright while watching a movie, then be prepared to do both. There’s emotions to spare. We all have holiday film traditions; I suggest you make Alistair Sim as Scrooge one of yours.

While titled A Christmas Carol in the U.S., it is called Scrooge in Britain and the rest of the world.

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Christmas, Ghost Stories, Reviews Tagged with: Five Reels

Mask of the Avenger (1951)

Oct 031951

Dashing aristocratic soldier Capt. Renato Dimorna (John Derek) returns home to find his father accused of treason and murdered by Governor Viovanni Larocca (Anthony Quinn). Feigning a leg injury and belief that his father was a traitor, Renato takes on the identity of the masked “Ghost of Monte Cristo” to bring justice to the land. He is aided by the lovely Maria d’Orsini (Jody Lawrance), who is not only a pretty face, but unknown to Renato, a skilled swordswoman.

It’s hard to dislike Mask of the Avenger, but it’s equally hard to like it very much. It’s a casserole of Swashbuckler clichés. It’s the form of Zorro with the foundation of Robin Hood, covered by irrelevant name-dropping of Monte Cristo. There’s lots of speeches about freedom and revenge, a Machiavellian villain, a pretty girl, and an even prettier guy. Well, maybe that last part isn’t so good.

John Derek, best known as the sometimes husband of Ursula Andress, Linda Evans, and Bo Derek, was certainly a good-looking man, with enough charisma in his real life to hook himself some world-class hotties, but onscreen he’s just a humorless, stiff male model. He looks the part of the Swashbuckling rogue, but it takes more than chiseled features to swagger about with a sword and a cape and not look like an idiot. That may be a bit severe. With the script never giving Renato a single amusing line, even Errol Flynn would be out of luck.

Luckily, the girl is more interesting than the guy, and had this been Maria d’Orsini’s story, it might have really been something. She rides about in tight black pants and displays enough sexapeal to forgive Derek’s dullness. Anthony Quinn makes an equally enjoyable evil governor, although it’s hard to take him seriously once rapiers start swinging. The writers needed to re-watch the main film they were stealing from: The Mark of Zorro. Your wicked governor always needs a slender, athletic, equally-evil sword-champion to fight the climactic duel with the hero. This fight looks like a warrior is taking on his out-of-shape uncle.

Many of the the ’50s Swashbucklers were cheaply made, a fact that was all too clear to viewers, but Mask of the Avenger escapes that failing. The picture is crisp, the colors are vibrant, and although the sets lack realism, they do so in an elaborate fashion. It all adds up to a tolerable Swashbuckler—not a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon, but not worth seeking out.

John Derek’s other Swashbucklers are Rogues of Sherwood Forest (1950) and Prince of Pirates (1953).

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Reviews, Swashbucklers Tagged with: Two Reels

Sirocco (1951)

Sep 291951

It is 1925 Damascus, and the Syrian insurrection is attempting to throw out the French. Harry Smith (Humphrey Bogart) sells weapons and feeds off the misery. In a restaurant, he meets the beautiful, shallow, and manipulative Violette (Märta Torén), the mistress of Col. Feroud (Lee J. Cobb), the only French representative who would like a peace treaty that doesn’t involve destroying the Syrians. In the days that follow, Smith tries to pick up Violette while Feroud tries to shut down Smith’s gun smuggling racket.

By 1951 both Film Noir and Humphrey Bogart had past their prime. Bogart would still have a few great moments (The Caine Mutiny, We’re No Angels), but his name on a marquee could no longer guarantee a good film. That’s more than could be said of Noir, which would be a feeble genre for another thirty years. Sirocco, is not a great film. But for a later Bogart vehicle and a ’50s Noir, it isn’t bad.

It is far too easy to draw comparisons between the old-fashioned-when-released Sirocco and Casablanca, with Colombia Pictures mentioning the classic in its advertising. It’s no surprise that Sirocco looks shabby in such company. Once again, Bogart is an American expatriate in an exotic war zone where he refuses to take sides. Tough and cynical, he has enough charisma to interest most people who cross his path. And once again a woman comes to town that interests the Bogart character. That woman is romantically connected to an idealist man who tends to spout noble sentiments wherever he goes. And the anti-hero must decide if he will change his life and do the right thing. Fill the town with morally ambiguous and cruel people, and it’s easy to see that this was a project developed in a boardroom to cash-in on a past success.

But this is not a remake of Casablanca and where it is best is in the differences. Harry Smith is no Rick. Harry has drifted from amoral to immoral, and unlike Rick, is easily frightened. He’ll abandon a woman and his associates (he has no friends) when there is trouble. Rick is a mythic character; Harry is so very human.

Nor is Feroud a reflection of Victor Lazlo. If he was, Sirocco’s tenuous hold of the Noir label would be broken. But Feroud is not so pure. His quest is less noble (he is one of the invaders after all). Perhaps most telling is that when emotionally pushed, he hits Violette. It’s easy to understand his frustration, but heroes don’t strike women, at least ones who are only threatening emotionally.

The most interesting variation is in the female lead. Played by Swedish beauty, Märta Torén, who was hyped as the next Ingrid Bergman, Violette has no redeeming qualities, nor does she learn a moral lessen as most Hollywood characters do. She’s not evil or an enemy or a threat to anyone. She’s just completely self-centered and unrepentant. And she is the one fresh element in the movie. Sexually desirable, she isn’t the stuff of normal movie romance. The film doesn’t take the easy way out with her. She is what she is, and quite a bit of fun to watch.

Unfortunately, it does take the easy way out with everyone else; late in the film, character’s act in whatever why will bring about a cinematically “satisfying” conclusion when the credits roll; motivation and personality play no part.

Sirocco earns its place in the long list of artistically bankrupt Hollywood productions. But I’ve had a lot worse times watching other repetitive and money-grubbing flicks. It’s best suited to Bogart fans (shouldn’t everyone be one?) looking for something beyond his masterpieces and anyone with a fondness for the 1940s silver screen.

Film Noir, Reviews Tagged with: Three Reels

An American in Paris (1951)

Sep 271951

American expatriate painter Jerry Mulligan (Gene Kelly) is picked up by a wealthy divorcée (Nina Foch). She becomes his patron, with an eye to becoming his lover, but he falls for Lise (Leslie Caron), an anonymous young shop girl. However, she has a secret: She’s engaged to a successful singer (Georges Guétary) who also happens to be a friend of Jerry’s.

An American in Paris is…well…nice. It is very pretty, with lots of bright, primary colors. There are some good songs, some decent performances, and a boy-meets-girl plot that is comfortable. Yup, this is a nice film. Nice. Hardly the accolades that should shower down upon an Academy Award winner, and one of the few musicals to ever get that honor. But then the real best picture each year is rarely given the Oscar. In 1951, a little flick called The African Queen wasn’t even nominated. Oh well.

This is Kelly’s movie. He wasn’t the type to fade into the background, and he’s front and center here. His voice is pleasant, but it’s his dancing that is special—really any movement. He could make walking down the street a thing of beauty, or in this case, getting out of bed, with a kick here and a turn there. But a majority of his dances in An American in Paris are forgettable. They are demonstrations of his substantial skill, but nothing you’ll be clamoring to see a second time.

The story is less forgettable than annoying, and the characters lean toward the latter. Jerry is dim and rude. His patron is overly aggressive and a one-note character. Lise is hardly developed, and the singer-friend is the generic older-French-guy that was popular in ’50s cinema. Since the humor never works, and the melodrama is forced, I didn’t care who got together with whom. But then, neither did the filmmakers. The story is just a frame to hang songs on. The big plot complications aren’t even dealt with, but ignored in favor of a musical number.

As for those songs (I’m talking about the ones with lyrics here), there are no problems with George and Ira Gershwin’s compositions, but the delivery leaves something to be desired. The lack of a single female singer is part of the problem. A bigger one is the filmmaker’s goal of being cute. “I Got Rhythm” is wasted by tossing in young kids to yell out “I’ve got!” at the start of each line. This is a great American song, but only when it is actually sung.

So far, my comments don’t sound like the movie even deserves the mild praise of “nice,” but then I haven’t mentioned the dreams. There are two fantasy segments, both of which can be thought of as separate short films (they have little connection to the rest of the movie) and both of which are wonderful.

The first has pianist and actor Oscar Lavant dreaming of performing Gershwin’s “Concerto in F for Piano and Orchestra.” His character is a concert pianist, which is of no importance to anyone. In the dream, he is the conductor as well as all of the members of the orchestra. It’s a lovely bit of semi-humorous surrealism, provided you like the music.

The second is the climax of the film: an eighteen minute ballet. It is Kelly and Caron at their finest, surrounded by themes from important paintings. The music is perhaps the greatest American symphonic work, the choreography is exciting, and there’s more emotion shown by the swaying bodies than in the rest of the movie.

The DVD format is perfect for An American in Paris. You can toss on the disk and skip straight to the two scenes worth repeating.

The following year, Kelly would star in the infinitely better Singing in the Rain. It would not even be nominated in the best film category.

My other reviews of musicals including Gene Kelly: Cover Girl (1944), Anchors Aweigh (1945), Ziegfeld Follies (1946), The Pirate (1948), Words and Music (1948), On the Town (1949), Summer Stock (1950), Brigadoon (1954), It’s Always Fair Weather (1955), Les Girls (1957), The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967).

Musicals, Overrated Films, Reviews Tagged with: Two & 1/2 Reels

His Kind of Woman (1951)

Apr 211951

Deported gangster Nick Ferraro (Raymond Burr) wants to sneak back into the US and figures the best way involves finding someone his size. So his minions hire down-on-his-luck gambler Dan Milner (Robert Mitchum) to travel to a Mexican vacation lodge. Milner wants to figure out what is going on as he interacts with a group of colorful characters including Mark Cardigan (Vincent Price)—a cheerful actor, Lenore Brent (Jane Russell)—a singer after Cardigan, Myron Winton (Jim Backus)—a nosy banker, and a group of sinister maybe-crooks.

This is the film you get when a group of talented actors start a film without a finished script and make it up as they go along, shot by one director (John Farrow) and then re-shot by another (Richard Fleischer), and with an executive producer (Howard Hughes) who liked to interfere. Much of it is good. Some isn’t. The pace speeds up and slows down without concern for the story, which is really a series of events tangled together. The tone shifts, as does the genre. Burr is in a sleazy gangster film. Mitchum is mostly in a Noir, though sometimes a very dark one and sometimes something more like The Big Sleep, depending on the scene. Price is in a comedy. Russell drifts from a romance to a romantic comedy. All-together it doesn’t make sense, but it isn’t boring.

Generally everyone is good, and that’s what makes it work. Russell, Backus, and the scads of miscellaneous bad guys deliver amusing or meaningful lines with the vigor of actors having a great time (or perhaps shocked that no one is in control). Scene after scene is engaging, one way or another, though those scenes don’t fit together. Mitchum is the only one miscast simply because he has to be in all the switching genres and can’t quite pull off the tone shifts.

By the time we reach the end, those tones have become incompatible and the darker gangster stuff would be unpleasant if it mattered. It drags, and I looked forward to each time the film would cut away to a character I cared about.

Which brings me to Vincent Price. He is magnificent, as is his playful film-actor character who just wants to live as a hero. He quotes Shakespeare, yells flamboyantly at villains and the police alike, and steals the picture. A re-cut that diminished Milner to a minor character and turned this into the heroic tale of Mark Cartigan would have been an action-comedy masterpiece. I’d have eaten up a six episode franchise.

Film Noir, Reviews Tagged with: Three Reels

I’ll Never Forget You (1951)

Apr 161951

Nuclear Scientist Peter Standish (Tyrone Power) expresses his displeasure with the modern world to his co-worker (Michael Rennie), who tries to pry Standish away from his home and weird thoughts of time travel. Soon after, a lightning strike sends Standish back in time to 1784 and into the body of his ancestor. There he meets foppish Tom Pettigrew (Dennis Price), his ancestor’s fiancée Kate Pettigrew, and her sister Helen (Ann Blyth), with whom he falls in love. His mentioning of future events and near constant use of unusual vocabulary turn many people against him, and his plan to add future technology in the form of “inventions” make him stand out even more.

Titled The House in the Square in England, this is a remake of 1933’s Berkeley Square, which was a version of a stage play. In the ’33 version, Standish, portrayed by Leslie Howard, seemed possessed by the haunted house. In this one the explanation for Standish’s weird behavior and his belief in time travel is simply that he’s unhappy with the modern atomic world. It didn’t work well in the first film, and it’s ridiculous this time.

There’s no explanation in either version for why Standish is such an idiot, and keeps bringing up future events. That sort of silliness can work in a comedy, but I’ll Never Forget You is supposed to be taken seriously (very seriously).

Standish’s scientific background is used to explain him dabbling in inventions, making this a semi-pulp science fiction film of the worst sort. Wedging science fiction elements into the supernatural story is awkward and would need a more competent hand than writer Ranald MacDougal’s. This is a tragic gothic love story, or at least it should be.

Having watched The Wizard of Oz the filmmakers decided to ape its gimmick of having the normal world in B&W and the past in Technicolor (a strangely muted Technicolor which reminds me of the 2-strip type). Unlike The Wizard of Oz, it doesn’t create a fantasy reality nor do anything significant. It would have worked better thematically had the modern sections been the ones in color since the past is shown to be grubby and disheartening.

I suppose nothing could have saved I’ll Never Forget You, though quality acting would have helped. Rennie is solid, and Price is amusing as he hams it up, but the film doesn’t play to Power’s strengths and to whatever strength Blyth may have had. They seem out of place, though it is hard to blame them as I can’t imagine anyone being comfortable in the roles as written. While the whole film is lacking, the ending, altered from the play and earlier version, is the capper, mitigating the tragic elements, which instead makes it uncomfortable. I’m not sure anyone involved knew what kind of movie they were making. The actors are too stiff for a love story. The “science” is too mechanical and heavy for a gothic fantasy. And the tone is grumpy instead of longing. I’m not a big fan of the Leslie Howard’s version, but it knew what it was, and if you want to watch this story, watch that one.

Fantasy, Reviews, Science Fiction, Time Travel Tagged with: One Reel

Detective Story (1951)

Mar 021951

We spend a few hours in a police precinct as the officers go through their daily duties, bringing in a combination of hardened criminals and those who are mildly troubled. Standing out from the crowd is Det James McLeod (Kirk Douglas), a man driven by his hatred of his criminal father and an obsession to stop evil. His total lack of empathy leads to tragedy when his wife (Eleanor Parker) turns out to have a connection to a current case.

Detective Story is not Film Noir, though it is often incorrectly placed in that category. It is a stage-based procedural merged with a soap opera. The camera work is reminiscent of your average TV sitcom—no odd angles or German expressionism here. There is no general feeling of disease and darkness. The police are reasonably good people, if flawed, and the criminals run the gamut from evil to pleasant and kindly. The only character who fits the Film Noir stereotype is McLeod, and one character does not define a film.

So, why am I reviewing it and sticking it with the Noirs? Well, I wanted to review it as part of my Foscar’s look at the best films of each year (no, it didn’t make it) and had to put the review somewhere, and what better place to say it isn’t Noir than surrounded by actual Noirs?

OK, enough of how to file it, is Detective Story any good? Yes, but not as good as its reputation would suggest. Its two parts don’t fit together. The procedural potion is played reasonably realistically, or at least realistic as written for a stage play. The characters all seem like people you could meet if you went down to the local police station. They act like normal humans and the events that occur are all plausible. That doesn’t mean boring. The day at the precinct is captivating, aided by some first rate acting, particularly from William Bendix as a cop who sees a little of his dead son in a troubled ex-sailor brought in for a minor crime, and Lee Grant as a very sympathetic shoplifter. This is the stuff of a great film.

But the Kirk Douglas plot is a whole different matter. It is soap opera turned up to eleven with grand speeches about the meaning of good and evil and exposition about cruel fathers. There are coincidences that could fit a very different kind of movie but stand out as ridiculous when sitting next to the more down to earth procedural material. But the writing is only part of the problem, the rest is Douglas. He can be a superb actor but he can also go over the top and here he’s way over. There’s emoting, over-emoting, and scenery-chewing ham, and we’re in the third category here. I don’t know if either his performance or the overwrought character could work in a different setting, but neither work in this setting.

It all wraps up far too neatly. Real life is sloppy and the pat ending feels artificial.

None of which makes this a bad film. What’s good is very good, and what’s not-so-good isn’t unpleasant. The pieces just don’t fit. I give it an extra half star for its place in film history and how it pushed the production code right to the edge.

Film Noir, Reviews

Alraune (1952)

Jan 101951

Years ago, Professor ten Brinker (Erick von Stroheim) artificially inseminated a prostitute with the sperm of a hanged murderer in order to test his theories on heredity. He figured that by using the dregs of society, it would be easier to spot their degenerate traits when they are passed down, and besides, evil people are more interesting. The result was Alraune (Hildegarde Knef), who now as a young woman has an entrancing power over the men around her. When ten Brinker’s nephew, Frank Braun (Karl Boehm), shows up to leech yet more money from his uncle, he falls for Alraune and she for him. They arrange to run off to Paris, but ten Brinker explains her origin to Frank, and he abandons her, taking money from a princess who is in on the secret. Alraune is soon romantically pursued by Franks friends, the sickly artist Wolf (Rolf Henniger) and Count Geroldingen (Harry Meyen), as well as ten Brinker’s assistant Mohn (Harry Helm). Not long after, people are dying and ten Brinker blames it all on the soulless girl.

Alraune is a film out of time. Its German expressionistic style (well, it is German), its fatalistic theme, and its plot of a mad scientist breaking the laws of God, belong in late ‘30s cinema. Change the language to English (there is a dubbed and cut version re-titled Unnatural: Fruit of Evil that I haven’t seen) and Alraune would have fit as a Universal horror picture situated between Bride of Frankenstein and Son of Frankenstein. It is a close kin to Frankenstein: An obsessed scientist creates unnatural life from criminal sources, but the result is not so much evil as innocent; it (she in this case) is cared for improperly and things go to hell.

What isn’t clear in if this picture is a fantasy. Alraune‘s hold over men could be explained supernaturally, but her being beautiful and seductive is a better explanation. Throw in bit of luck and this isn’t a horror film, but a gothic tale of an abused woman. Her “father” shows her no affection, blames her for everything, and locks her away. The nuns punish her for reading. The man who seems nice leaves her without a word. No wonder she’s a bit cross. Either way, it’s interesting, and the fact that it could be either way makes it more interesting.

Where the picture shines is in its art design and cinematography. The combination of German expressionism and gothic gives us sharp detail soaked in fog. It looks beautiful. Our introduction to Alraune, as a near ghostly figure, is high art. The story can’t live up to the look, but then it is a really good look.

Erick von Stroheim commands the screen, but is wrong for the part. He comes off as arrogant and cruel instead of obsessed and incestuous. He’s playing a bit too much of himself. Hildegarde Knef has a nice combination of purity and malice, though the film would have benefited from her being edgier. Karl Boehm comes off as bland, but the rest of the cast is good with wonderful (and sometimes tragic) performances from the the youths and a good deal of humor from the corrupt princess. That’s a bit of the problem: between the quality cast and the design I expect the film to be better. It should have been a solid 4 star picture, but it can’t manage it. It is confused on what it wants to be. The story, based on a novel and filmed four times previously, wants to go one way, but so soon after the Nazi eugenics program, messages on the evils of heredity are a touch uncomfortable. So it is a bit too careful and pure for its own good and evil acts must have consequences. The 1928 silent film, generally taken as the best version, doesn’t hold back, casting Brigitte Helm (best known as the robot from Metropolis) as a much stronger and more lustful Alraune. It also has a better ending, but doesn’t look nearly as good. Toss Helm and the silent ending (and perhaps the silent professor as well) into this one and you’d have a masterpiece. As is, it looks great and has enough moments to make it the best genre film of 1952.

Classic Horror, Foreign Language, Horror, Mad Scientists, Reviews Tagged with: Three & 1/2 Reels

Adventures of Captain Fabian (1951)

Jan 091951

Lea Mariotte (Micheline Presle), a mistreated servant and social-climbing Creole woman, is arrested for murder. Captain Michael Fabian (Errol Flynn) gets her off by threatening the powerful Brissac family with a scandal because George Brissac (Vincent Price) was involved. While Fabian is at sea, Mariotte pushes Brissac to murder his uncle, and then blackmails him into marrying her.

This isn’t a Swashbuckler, but I’m reviewing it as everyone who hasn’t seen it thinks it is one. It stars Errol Flynn in a period piece, where the words “Adventures” and “Captain” are in the title and Flynn wrote the screenplay. It even starts with a sailing ship.

But what we have is a slow boiling melodrama with a single fight at the end. The main character is neither Flynn’s pseudo-adventurer nor Price’s evil weakling. It is the obnoxious and stupid Mariotte, whose power over men is hard to fathom. She’s pretty enough, but her actions would drive away any man (or woman, or horse). Time is not spent with deeds of daring-do, but with Mariotte scheming or throwing a fit or grousing about not having money and power.

There is no doubt a more interesting story behind the camera than in front of it. Time and an excessive lifestyle had caught up with Flynn, and his creditors were trying to. So he went to France to make this, where he apparently drank a lot and argued with his partner, who was also the director and husband of Presle. They all skipped the country after filming as they’d failed to make a French language version which was required by law.

The B&W cinematography is pleasant, though this is a film that cries out for color (and this was made in 1951). Flynn isn’t a noticeable detriment, and Price comes off quite well—though he had to sue for his unpaid salary—but the movie doesn’t work. Mariotte is a terrible lead and there’s no chemistry between anyone. Fabian and Mariotte are supposed to be in love but you can’t tell from actor or actress. Plus poor Agnes Moorehead is forced to run around in poorly applied brown-face. I’m sure everyone involved was happy to forget about Adventures of Captain Fabian, and I will be to.

Errol Flynn’s Swashbucklers/pseudo-Swashbucklers are: Captain Blood (1935), The Prince and the Pauper (1937), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), The Sea Hawk (1940), Adventures of Don Juan (1948), Against All Flags (1951), The Master of Ballantrae (1953), and Crossed Swords (1954), The Dark Avenger/The Warriors (1955).

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Reviews, Swashbucklers Tagged with: One Reel

Summer Stock (1950)

Oct 151950

Jane Falbury (Judy Garland) is trying to make a go of her failing farm while mostly ignoring her wealthy longtime fiancé, Orville (Eddie Braken), when her flighty actress sister (Gloria DeHaven) shows up with an acting troop that includes Joe D. Ross (Gene Kelly) and sidekick Herb (Phil Silvers). Joe is under the impression that the farm is going to be the stage for his new show. Naturally there’s lots of confusion and lots of singing and dancing.

Summer Stock is more famous now as a documentary of Judy Garland’s physical and mental health than as a musical film. Garland’s drug habit was at its worst, or at least as bad as it got where she was also partially functional. Somehow her singing voice is solid. Otherwise, things aren’t so good. When she showed up for filming at all, she couldn’t follow direction, so her character’s emotional state has little to do with the movie and more to do with how Garland was feeling at the time. This is a light-as-fluff movie, so her extreme outbursts feel uncomfortable. Since she didn’t always show up when she was needed, numbers had to be re-choreographed on set, to remove her. It also meant that proper coverage wasn’t filmed leading to some odd editing and lots of continuity errors. And her weight swings are impossible to ignore, apparently leading to her costumes needing to be altered on a consistent basis. Her over-sized collars were meant to draw attention away from her fluctuating waist, but as I find the changes in her face more distracting, they don’t do their job. The change in her between 1948’s Words and Music, where she seems healthy, and this is shocking. She’s aged at least a decade.

So even if everything else was great, Garland’s condition was going to pull it down. And it isn’t great. It’s…OK. It was meant as an homage/return to the Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney “Let’s put on a show” pics, so we’re not exactly starting with Shakespeare. But Rooney had lost his luster, so they brought in Kelly when Garland got out of the sanatorium.

The songs are nice, but the musical numbers (with one exception) are not good enough to carry the show on their own. Garland’s voice and Kelly’s dancing help a lot. And Kelly seems to understand the type of film he’s in. When he’s onscreen I don’t feel like cringing, so that’s a plus. Phil Silvers’s goofing doesn’t make me laugh, but it does fit the tone of the movie.

After they’d wrapped filming, the powers-that-be decided (rightly) that the movie needed a big musical finish, so they called back Garland and filmed Get Happy. Three months had put her in a less troubling mental place, and she was in remarkably better shape. That number is the high point of the film and a classic. It doesn’t fit with the rest of the movie, and her dramatic physical change is impossible to ignore, but I’d rather have this number in the movie than have it make sense. If you don’t stumble upon the entire film on free TV, then just look up this one number. I’ll help:

My other reviews of Gene Kelly films: Cover Girl (1944), Anchors Aweigh (1945), Ziegfeld Follies (1946), The Pirate (1948), Words and Music (1948), On the Town (1949), An American in Paris (1951), Brigadoon (1954), It’s Always Fair Weather (1955), Les Girls (1957), The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967).

Musicals, Reviews Tagged with: Two Reels

Rogues of Sherwood Forest (1950)

Oct 041950

King John (George Macready) is once again up to his old tricks of excessive taxation and oppression. He has hired five thousand Flemish mercenaries to roll back the rights given by Richard the Lionheart (remember, this is fiction) and regain absolute control for the monarchy, and now he has to find a way to pay them. Robin (John Derek), son of the now deceased Robin Hood, and Little John (Alan Hale) reform the merry men and set about stopping John. They are aided by John’s ward, Lady Marianne (Diana Lynn). If I was John, I would stop acquiring wards.

A middling Swashbuckler that retells the same cinematic tale of Robin Hood that’s been done better before (with the son of Robin replacing his father as the hero), Rogues of Sherwood Forest stands out only as a curiosity. It is Alan Hale’s third time playing the role of Little John. He first appeared as Robin’s sidekick in the silent Robin Hood (1922) and then in the classic The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938). He’s long-in-the-tooth to be doing the Swashbuckling-thing, but he’s still the best thing about Rogues of Sherwood Forest. He died the same year it was released.

Besides questionable acting from the non-Hale part of the cast, there’s nothing substantially wrong with Rogues of Sherwood Forest. Everyone goes through the standard light action pic paces with workman-like efficiency. It’s an assembly line movie, with each part nicely in its place and nothing remarkable. There’s the required amount of sword fights and bow shooting, although some of the footage was swiped from The Bandit of Sherwood Forest: The Son of Robin takes out guards that are following him on horseback; different sons, same guards.

If you remember anything after the end credits roll, it will be John Derek’s appearance. Derek, considered too pretty to be a leading man, is best remembered as the photographer and husband of Ursula Andress, Linda Evans, and Bo Derek. While a passable Robin at best, he looks as if he could be the son of Errol Flynn. With his looks, and Hales’s presence, there is a pleasant feeling of continuity with the superior 1938 film.

Alan Hale’s other Swashbucklers are: The Prince and the Pauper (1937), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Adventures of Marco Polo (1938), The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), The Man in the Iron Mask (1939), The Sea Hawk (1940), and Adventures of Don Juan (1948).

Other Robin Hood Swashbucklers I’ve reviewed: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), The Bandit of Sherwood Forest (1946), Sword of Sherwood Forest (1960), Robin and Marian (1976), Robin Hood (1991), and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991).

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Fortunes of Captain Blood (1950)

Sep 281950

When members of his crew are captured by George Fairfax (Lowell Gilmore) and sold as slaves to Marquis de Riconete (George Macready), pirate captain Peter Blood (Louis Hayward) comes to shore to free them. Masquerading as a fruit peddler, Blood wins over the local bar girl (Dona Drake) and the Marquis’s niece (Patricia Medina), and engages in the expected swashing and buckling.

It’s difficult to conceive that at one time, Fortunes of Captain Blood was released to theaters. It never feels like a film. It has the direction, camerawork, sets, score, acting, and breadth of a mid-level 1960s TV series. Little time is spent at sea, but a great deal is spent in a tavern that no one would mistake for anything but a stage. The cast is small, with few soldiers and fewer pirates. As the brief credits appeared, I could easily imagine a voiceover announcing “Next week, on The Adventures of Peter Blood and Friends, Peter runs afoul of plotting Spaniards, with special guest star, Efrem Zimbalist Jr.”

Louis Hayward has the unenviable task of taking over a role made famous by Errol Flynn in the 1935 classic, Captain Blood. For over a decade, Hayward was a B-movie, Swashbuckling hero, appearing in The Son of Monte Cristo (1940), The Return of Monte Cristo (1946), Pirates of Capri (1949), Lady in the Iron Mask (1952), and Captain Pirate (1952). His status is surprising since he lacked the needed look, build, and voice. He had a nice touch with comedy, but was out of place in an adventure piece. Still, Hayward is the closest thing Fortunes of Captain Blood has to charisma.

While there is sufficient swordplay to earn its Swashbuckling label, Fortunes of Captain Blood is primarily a chatting movie. Blood engages in relaxed conversations with almost everyone he runs into. There is little drama and never a feeling that anything is at stake. He does stop talking long enough to stab a guard but then he’s back at it again.

Patricia Medina (who appeared in four films with Hayward, including this flick’s sequel, Captain Pirate, where she played a different character) is quite pretty as the main romantic interest. Unfortunately, there is almost no romance, giving Medina little to do and making it difficult to remember her five minutes after the film is over. Dona Drake, best known as the girl Bob Hope gets in Road to Morocco, is more memorable, but then her role as the promiscuous serving wench out to make a buck is more substantial.

Fortunes of Captain Blood isn’t a film anyone should feel compelled to seek out. If you are fan of any film where two men whack each other with swords, or you are a pirate movie completist, you are likely to stay awake for this mild action yarn.

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