Classic Films in Focus: SABRINA (1954)

After her breakout success in Roman Holiday (1953), Audrey Hepburn cemented her image as a charming romantic heroine with Sabrina (1954), in which she plays a beautiful ingenue who pines for affection from a wealthy, older man. Along with its love story, Sabrina offers a very tame exploration of upstairs downstairs concerns unfolding in a world of extravagant power and privilege, but few people come to the movie looking for thoughtful class analysis. Instead, Sabrina offers the irresistible appeal of Hepburn herself and the love triangle created by William Holden and Humphrey Bogart as the two brothers who both fall for her. As its "once upon a time" opening makes clear, Sabrina is a modern fairy tale, a Cinderella story about a chauffeur's daughter and a New York prince, and if fairy tale romance is what you seek then this picture certainly delivers. I enjoy Sabrina mainly because of Hepburn's powerful charisma as its star, but I'm not romantic enough to ignore its various flaws.

Hepburn plays the title character, who grows up on the estate of the fabulously wealthy Larrabee family where her father (John Williams) serves as the chauffeur. From childhood Sabrina has yearned for the younger of the two Larrabee sons, the feckless playboy, David (William Holden). He finally pays attention once she returns, all grown up, from two years at cooking school in Paris, even though she arrives just before his intended marriage to a socialite whose family interests will merge beautifully with the Larrabee empire. Elder brother Linus (Humphrey Bogart), eager for the match and its financial benefits, decides to intervene by courting Sabrina himself, but he ends up falling in love with her for real, much to his dismay.

I admit that I'm always bothered by the frequent decision to pair Hepburn with much older men, and it spoils some of my enjoyment, even if the leading man is as fine an actor as Humphrey Bogart (or Cary Grant or Fred Astaire). There's no ignoring the 30 year difference between Hepburn and Bogart in Sabrina; Bogart looks every year of it, especially when contrasted with the much younger Holden, who seems like a better match in spite of his bad habits. That said, Bogart's performance is still a Bogart performance, full of world weariness and lost chances that make Linus a sympathetic character even though he spends most of the movie deceiving Sabrina about his intentions. Holden is having a lot more fun as the younger brother, just like the baby of such a family would, but we know his track record with wives ought to be a warning about his ability to change for Sabrina. Neither brother is really a perfect match, but they're the only contenders on offer, since Sabrina apparently managed to spend two full years in Paris with only an elderly baron for company.

A fairy tale, however, isn't really about the princes; Sabrina Fairchild is the one we're meant to care about, and Hepburn is radiantly lovely in the role, full of wistful yearning and ardent feelings even after her transformative time in Paris. She comes back with sufficient sense of irony to name her pet poodle David but is still naive enough to fall for him all over again the minute she sees him. Once she returns to New York, Sabrina appears to advantage in beautiful clothes that suit Hepburn perfectly, but I like her just as much in the simple black outfit that she wears to Linus's office near the end. Like many other Cinderella heroines, Sabrina is motherless but enjoys the devotion of almost every member of the household, among whom we find familiar character actors like Ellen Corby and Nancy Kulp. Their enthusiasm for Sabrina's cause provides a nudge in case we need help overlooking her willingness to disrupt David's marriage, but they seem just as happy with Linus as long as Sabrina gets her promotion to American princess. Since Sabrina always maintains her romantic innocence, she never comes across as a Becky Sharp sort of opportunist, ready to hook either rich brother for the bank account he embodies, but I do wonder how a handsome young gardener or stable groom might have altered the course of this story.

Sabrina netted Oscar nominations for Hepburn as Best Actress and for Billy Wilder as Best Director, along with three additional nominations and a win for Best Costume Design, so there was no shortage of love for the picture from the Academy. Although she's best remembered for movies like Funny Face (1957), Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961), and My Fair Lady (1964), I particularly like her more dramatic performance in Wait Until Dark (1967), which brought her fifth and final nomination for Best Actress. For a more age appropriate romance with Humphrey Bogart, see him in The African Queen (1951) with that other iconic Hepburn, Katharine, or find Audrey and William Holden reunited for another round in Paris When It Sizzles (1964). Sabrina got the remake treatment in 1995 with Julia Ormond in the title role and Harrison Ford and Greg Kinnear as the smitten brothers, but you're better off with the original.

Classic Films in Focus: THE MAJOR AND THE MINOR (1942)

Billy Wilder would direct some of the most memorable films to come out of the Hollywood studio era, including Double Indemnity (1944), Sunset Blvd. (1950), and Some Like It Hot (1959), but every director has to start somewhere, and the relatively lightweight comedy The Major and the Minor (1942) was Wilder's first time directing an American film. Wilder and frequent collaborator Charles Brackett wrote the screenplay for this charmingly perverse picture, which foreshadows Some Like It Hot in its focus on the romantic misadventures that individuals can stumble into when they pretend to be someone they aren't. With a rich, if rather risque, subtext and lively performances from stars Ginger Rogers and Ray Milland, Wilder's The Major and the Minor is well worth watching, even if it doesn't pack the same cinematic punch as the illustrious director's later work.

Susan Applegate (Ginger Rogers) has been trying to make it in New York City for a couple of years, but she finally gets sick of the constant sexual harassment and unwanted attention and decides to head home to Iowa. She has prudently kept just enough money for a return ticket sealed in an envelope since her arrival in the big city, but she is devastated to learn that the train fare has gone up in the interim. She solves this problem by disguising herself as a twelve year old in order to qualify for the half price fare, and in this persona she ends up in the sleeping compartment of kindly Major Kirby (Ray Milland). Kirby's imperfect vision prevents him from discovering Susan's ruse even in close quarters, and he gallantly offers to help the "little girl" get home to her mother. The pair end up at the military school where Kirby teaches, and there Susan must attempt to perpetuate her deception in the face of Kirby's fiancee, the rest of the faculty, and an entire academy of eager adolescent cadets.

The well-developed Ginger Rogers is not particularly credible as a twelve year old, but that's part of the gag, especially because the rest of the adults are so good at seeing what they are told to see rather than what is right in front of their noses. Rogers has wonderful fun switching back and forth between her identities as adult Susan and childish "Su-Su," and her scenes with the lovestruck cadets are simply hilarious. Ray Milland is clueless but lovable as the myopic major; he's the ultimate straight man for all of the shenanigans that are going on around him, never quite figuring any of it out. Stealing her scenes as usual is the fantastic Diana Lynn as Lucy Hill, the sharp-eyed younger sister of the thoroughly nasty woman Major Kirby intends to marry. Lynn's precociously adult personality and hard-boiled way around a line make her a perfect foil for Rogers, and the two have some great scenes together as they plot against their common nemesis, Lucy's older sister, Pamela (Rita Johnson).

You could probably watch The Major and the Minor with the kids and have a swell time with the comedy of errors surface, but the subtext of the picture digs down into some of Wilder's favorite adult themes, including seduction and manipulation, along with an eyebrow-raising flirtation with pedophilia. We as the audience know that Susan Applegate is really an adult, but Major Kirby doesn't, and this makes his increasing attraction to "Su-Su" rather alarming. There is a foreshadowing of Lolita here, played for laughs, of course, but the idea of Ray Milland as an amiable, accidental Humbert Humbert is bound to make a modern viewer a little uncomfortable. Luckily for Wilder, Nabokov's novel wouldn't be published until 1955, so his original audiences were spared what is now an inevitable association.

Wilder's film depends upon two great assumptions about the sexes: men are born pigs, and women are born liars. The cadets at the school behave no better than the men in New York City, a point made more obvious by having one student actually be the son of the last metropolitan masher to put the moves on Susan. Only Kirby remains above this sort of behavior, a kind of masculine ingenue, which might help to explain his interest in the seemingly infantile Su-Su. Susan, Pamela, and Lucy all display a natural talent for deception; they play a vicious, complicated game with one another in which the men and boys are their pawns, with the unsuspecting Kirby as the final prize. This is heady stuff, either hilariously funny or unforgivably faithless; what Wilder here spins in the direction of comedy also spirals toward tragedy in Double Indemnity and Sunset Blvd.

Take a few minutes to appreciate Ginger Rogers' real mother, Lela Rogers, as Susan's mother in the film. They bear a very marked resemblance to one another, and it's an amusing example of the intermingling of life and art. For more of Rogers herself, see Top Hat (1935), Kitty Foyle (1940), and Monkey Business (1952). Ray Milland is best remembered today for his Oscar-winning performance in The Lost Weekend (1945), he also stars in The Big Clock (1948), Rhubarb (1951), and Dial M for Murder (1954) If you enjoy Diana Lynn's performance, which you certainly should, be sure to catch her in Preston Sturges' crackerjack comedy, The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944). Lynn also makes an appearance in the Martin and Lewis remake of The Major and the Minor, the 1955 film You're Never Too Young. Drew Barrymore's cute romantic comedy, Never Been Kissed (1999), offers another iteration of the same basic concept that drives Wilder's picture.

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Classic Films in Focus: STALAG 17 (1953)

Stalag 17 (1953) is exactly the kind of war movie one might expect from Billy Wilder, the writer and director behind monumental classics like Double Indemnity (1944), Sunset Boulevard (1950), and Some Like It Hot (1959). Wilder’s darkest pictures inevitably reveal a grim sense of humor, while his funniest flirt with violence and death. Stalag 17 plays like a comedy, even though it’s set in a World War II POW camp and opens with the deaths of two of the prisoners. An outstanding ensemble of actors, led by William Holden, helps to sell this complex mix of humor and tension, and the result is a memorable story of wartime experience that stands alongside The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) and The Great Escape (1963) as one of the best prisoner of war movies ever made.

Holden plays camp trader J.J. Sefton, one of a large group of American sergeants held in Stalag 17. When the Nazi guards repeatedly get wind of the prisoners’ plans and information, it becomes clear that someone on the inside is acting as an informant, and the other soldiers immediately suspect Sefton. The danger posed by the leak increases with the arrival of a new prisoner (Don Taylor), whom the Nazis will execute as a saboteur if they can get proof of his actions.

Wilder and Edwin Blum adapted the story from a stage play by former Stalag 17 prisoners Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski, and Trzcinski even has a small role in the picture as the prisoner whose wife concocts a tall tale about “finding” a baby during his absence. Several of the supporting players are carried over from the play, including Robert Strauss and Harvey Lembeck as the scene-stealing Animal and Shapiro. Unlike some films adapted from plays, Stalag 17 avoids feeling overly staged and closeted because of the numerous outdoor scenes, most of which feature an incredible amount of mud.

Holden’s performance drives the story, but his jaded, opportunistic character is no hero. We have to dislike him enough to see why the rest of the prisoners suspect him, although a thoughtful viewer will also recognize the significance of his protection of Cookie (Gil Stratton), the story’s narrator and one of the most vulnerable prisoners in the barracks. The more obvious antagonists, Sgt. Schulz (Sig Ruman) and the camp commandant (Otto Preminger), are as ridiculous as they are menacing, much like the Nazis in Ernst Lubitsch’s To Be or Not to Be (1942). The other prisoners run the gamut of character types, from the heroic Lt. Dunbar (Taylor) and the shell-shocked Joey (Robinson Stone) to the boyish “Blondie” (Robert Shawley) and the camp clowns Animal and Shapiro. Take time to appreciate the solid performances of Richard Erdman, Peter Graves, and Neville Brand as the other residents of the barracks.

Stalag 17 earned three Oscar nominations, including nods for Wilder and Strauss, but Holden’s Best Actor award was the only win. For more of Wilder’s films, see The Major and the Minor (1942), The Lost Weekend (1945), and The Apartment (1960). Look for William Holden in Born Yesterday (1950) and Sunset Boulevard (1950). Sig Ruman appears in many classic comedies, including A Night at the Opera (1935), Ninotchka (1939), and To Be or Not to Be (1942). Otto Preminger appeared in very few acting roles but is remembered today as the director of classics like Laura (1944), The Man with the Golden Arm (1955), and Anatomy of a Murder (1959).

Note: A shorter version of this review can be found on Examiner.com. 

Femmes Fatales, Film Noir, and Freshmen

The following post is adapted from a conference paper I presented at the Popular Culture Association in the South meeting in 2008. I'm posting it this week as part of the film noir blogathon, For the Love of Film (Noir), which is raising funds to help the Film Noir Foundation.

Dark City (1998)

With the release of blockbuster films like Sin City and the revival of cultural interest in characters like Batman, film noir has enjoyed something of a resurgence in the last few years. College age film goers and cultural consumers love dark violence and tortured protagonists, but they rarely recognize those elements as the territory of noir. Generally speaking, they have no idea what noir even is, much less where modern cultural productions are coming from when they draw on its conventions and traditions. This interesting combination of cultural currency and generational ignorance makes noir an especially productive choice for teaching film in lower level courses. I began to recognize noir’s potential for the classroom when I started teaching Alex Proyas’ 1998 film, Dark City, in Introduction to Literature courses some years ago. I quickly realized that my students liked the film but had no contextual knowledge on which to build a more sophisticated understanding of what they saw. Eventually the unit on film evolved into a fully-fledged engagement of film noir and its themes, and student evaluations of the course have proven it to be the biggest hit of the semester, far outstripping the units on poetry, short fiction and drama, and even surpassing a popular novel unit on Treasure Island in terms of student enthusiasm and response.

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

For those who might be less familiar with the term, “film noir” refers to a cinematic style first popular in American film in the 1940s and 50s, with the classic period of noir spanning from the 1941 release of The Maltese Falcon to the 1958 release of Orson Welles’ Touch of Evil. The term “film noir,” which suggests the darkness and fatalism typical of these films, was first coined by French critics watching American films in the years following World War II. Early noir films were often produced as “B” movies that were quickly filmed for as little money as possible, and they flew somewhat under the radar of the censors, whose attention to such matters was not as keen during the all-consuming war years. Taking their cues from hard-boiled crime fiction of the period and German expressionist film of the 1930s, noir films presented World War II era audiences with a gritty alternative to the bourgeois optimism and increasing social homogeneity that transformed American culture in the years following the war. Noir touched on themes that spoke to the barely suppressed fears of its original audiences, from paranoia and disillusionment to betrayal and the grinding inescapability of personal fate. The hard-boiled private detective and the seductive femme fatale would emerge as the quintessential icons of noir, with actors like Bogart and Stanwyck personifying the grim cool of the true noir soul. Later generations have alternately rejected and embraced the dark charms of noir, with the early “neo-noir” movement epitomized by Roman Polanski’s Chinatown (1974) later evolving into postmodern noir and the sci-fi hybrid of “tech-noir” characterized by films like Blade Runner (1982). More recently, films like Memento, Brick, Sin City, A History of Violence, and, arguably, Batman Begins, have brought noir style back into the cinemas and into DVD viewers’ homes, along with television series like Veronica Mars and The Dresden Files.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)

In the classroom, of course, our discussion of noir has to begin with a similar definition, since most of my students are unfamiliar with the term and few have seen enough older films to grasp the idea very quickly. They have a vague idea about the identity of Humphrey Bogart, thanks primarily to the lionization and commercialization of Casablanca, but they have never heard of noir’s other stalwarts, including the likes of Robert Mitchum, Richard Widmark, Barbara Stanwyck, and Dana Andrews. They are utterly unfamiliar with classic Hollywood’s plethora of important directors. We cover elements like cinematography, lighting, and editing in a very basic way, using props and examples from popular modern films to illustrate the ideas. We discuss the main character types of noir, including the detective, the damaged man, the good girl, and, of course, the femme fatale. At this point I ask the class how many of them have seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), and a light bulb appears almost visibly over most of their heads. We watch the scene where Jessica Rabbit first enters the film and performs the number “Why Don’t You Do Right?” to a bewitched, bothered, and bewildered Bob Hoskins as detective Eddie Valiant. The basic information gives the students some tools to apply to the films they’ll be studying, and Roger Rabbit primes the enthusiasm pump. At this point, they’re ready for a movie.

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

 I allow my students to vote on the noir film that we will actually watch in class, but I make them choose a classic film, an old school, black and white, traditional noir. Generally, I offer them The Maltese Falcon (1941), Double Indemnity (1944), Laura (1944), Out of the Past (1947), and Sunset Boulevard (1950). I give a brief description of each film and show trailers if time allows. They have generally chosen either The Maltese Falcon or Sunset Boulevard, and Boulevard goes over particularly well. Certainly, it’s hard to beat a maniacal Gloria Swanson, a talking dead man, and a monkey funeral for sheer spectacle value to get the attention of a group of restless freshmen. I force the class to choose a classic film because the basic themes and images of noir are being worked out in those texts, and those films will be the foundations on which later noir depends. I also know that, given the choice, they will instinctively choose a newer, more familiar, more comfortable color film. The entire class will watch this one film together, but their assignment allows them to watch additional films on their own and write about those for the required essay. Once students see and like one classic noir film, they are much more likely to choose other classic films as well as newer ones for these additional encounters.

Tension (1949)

One very important element of this assignment is the library of noir DVDs that I maintain for students to borrow as we make our way through the unit. I keep a collection of films, especially the older and harder to find ones, for student use. The lending library encourages the students to watch more films and to engage the idea of noir in more interesting and personal ways, and it leads to a more diverse set of essays. I also provide students with a long list of other noir films, including neo-noir and tech-noir pictures that they can watch as part of the unit and write about for their essays. Popular choices include Sin City, of course, as well as Blade Runner, Memento and Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The sleeper hit of the lending library is the 1949 Richard Basehart/Audrey Totter film Tension, which has only recently become available on DVD thanks to the noir resurgence and a Warner Brothers box set. While not a well-known example of noir, it might just be the perfect film for freshmen, with a nasty femme fatale, a sympathetic hero, and a tight 95 minutes of gripping entertainment. Students typically laugh at the introductory scene with the police detective, but a character like Audrey Totter’s Claire Quimby magnetically draws their attention and presents the femme fatale as a strikingly physical, even vulgar female monster.

Talking about what movies students can watch while studying noir brings up one of the chief difficulties and chief delights of using it as the basis for a film unit. Nobody can quite agree about what noir IS. Some critics, like Foster Hirsch, argue that noir is a fully-fledged genre, while others refer to it as a “cycle,” a “movement,” or a “style.” Noir is certainly more difficult to identify than, say, a Western or a gangster film, and some Westerns and some gangster films might even simultaneously be noir films, as well. Explaining the contested identity of noir to freshmen can be challenging, but it also invites them to have an opinion about the debate, and it gives them a clear argument that they can take a stake in, especially as that argument relates to specific films. Is Dark City, for example, really a noir film? What about other modern films? Do they have that certain je ne sais quoi that makes a film noir or not? Sometimes students suffer a kind of “medical students’ syndrome” where they begin to think that every movie they see must be noir, and we have to address their perception of the film and talk about what kind of classification is really defensible. However, as problems with students go, over-engagement is certainly one of the nicest problems one could have.

One way to head off some of this confusion is to lay good groundwork for the noir unit earlier in the term. In order to help students have a better sense of the elements of noir, I make a conscious effort to connect our film unit with the other material that we cover over the course of the semester. In our poetry unit, for example, we read texts like Keats’ “La Belle Dame Sans Merci” and introduce the idea of the femme fatale and the traditional virgin/whore dichotomy. Then, when students see Norma Desmond or Brigid O’Shaughnessy or Tension’s Claire Quimby for the first time, they know exactly what they are looking at. We study short stories and poems that deal with the themes of murder and death, and we talk about how the texts shape our perceptions of criminals or of fate. For an introduction to literature course, this multi-genre connection of themes and ideas helps to justify devoting a whole segment of the class to film studies because it presents film to students as a place to analyze and engage literary concepts. Students end up with a broader and more sophisticated picture of the literary themes that dominate the course, and they discover that the literary concepts we have studied apply to many different kinds of texts.

As I mentioned earlier, the noir unit consistently ranks as students’ favorite part of the entire course. Why do students respond to noir so enthusiastically? Partly they just like to watch movies more than they like to read, but that’s a generational trend that reflects an increasingly visual culture, and I incorporate visual and multi-media elements into every unit in the course. It isn’t that watching is “easier” than reading, though, because noir is a tough cinematic nut to crack, with a problematic identity and a lot of sophisticated themes. What students tell me about studying noir is that it teaches them to watch differently from the way they watched movies before and makes them think more about what they watch. It opens up classic films for them as interesting and even provocative. It casts new light and new shadows on the culture that they are already familiar with in films, television, video games, music and comic books. They appreciate Veronica Mars more, think a little harder about the themes of Sin City, play Max Payne with a greater understanding of its context, and read or watch Batman with a fuller sense of the Dark Knight’s darkness.  Students have even asked to borrow more films to watch after the course ended, and one student went on to develop an entire independent project for his art major around the creation of photographic images inspired by the look and style of noir. These are freshmen at a public university, majoring mostly in engineering, nursing and business. They are not the already intellectually engaged, privileged denizens of a liberal arts college. In spite of that, noir gets them, and most of them, ultimately, seem to “get” noir. They leave the classroom as better and more sophisticated readers of the culture in which they live. In short, noir inspires them to think and to learn more than anything else we study. For this teacher, at least, to paraphrase Sam Spade, that’s the stuff that dreams are made of.

If freshmen can learn to love it, then film noir must be worth saving! You can help the Film Noir Foundation preserve and restore classic noir films by donating during the Film Noir Blogathon, February 14-21, 2011.