Showing posts with label Cedric Hardwicke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cedric Hardwicke. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Classic Films in Focus: ROPE (1948)

Rope (1948), Alfred Hitchcock's first color picture, is a twisting, carefully orchestrated thriller with a deceptively simple title, one that is as much about the killers as the murder weapon they wield in the film's opening shot. There's no air of mystery hovering over the claustrophobic confines of the single room where the action unfolds; instead, this story revels in the audience's full knowledge of the crime, tormenting us with information we possess but cannot share with the party guests drinking their champagne over the corpse of their murdered loved one. The film's gruesome appeal depends mainly on its theatrical visual style and the tightly wound performances of John Dall and Farley Granger as the handsome young killers, although James Stewart gets top billing as their former mentor and increasingly suspicious house guest.

The story opens with Brandon (John Dall) and Phillip (Farley Granger) strangling their classmate David (Dick Hogan) and then hiding his body in a large trunk in the middle of their living room. Eager to prove their intellectual superiority and gloat over the crime, Brandon insists on hosting a party immediately following the murder, with David's friends and family in attendance. David's father, Mr. Kentley (Cedric Hardwicke), and girlfriend Janet (Joan Chandler) grow uneasy over David's uncharacteristic absence, but only the boys' old house master begins to grasp the horrible truth.

Dall and Granger work the queer subtext of their relationship with tremendous skill, with Dall's Brandon very clearly the leader of the couple and Phillip only slowly coming to realize the nature of the monster he loves and obeys. Does Brandon love Phillip in return? Is Brandon capable of such a human emotion? Both actors are fascinating to watch as they reveal their characters' psychological states. The subtext implies that Brandon also has a particular connection to Rupert Cadell, presumably romantic in nature, but here the casting of James Stewart throws a spanner into the works. I've always felt Stewart to be miscast in the role, and that continues to be my view after my most recent return to the movie. Hitchcock's later collaborations with Stewart brilliantly evoke the actor's capacity for darkness, but this first outing shows the limits of Stewart's ability. Even Stewart felt he was out of place in the part, although he said he didn't think he was credible as an academic, not that he couldn't imagine himself as a closeted gay man who had indulged in a romantic tryst with one of his students. I think that an actor like George Sanders, Claude Rains, James Mason, or Cary Grant (who was Hitchcock's first choice for the role) would have made a more interesting and believable Rupert, but the role certainly had an impact on Stewart's later career. For more observations on that topic, read Chloe Walker's 2023 Paste article,  "Rope Was a Cruel, Prickly Turning Point in Jimmy Stewart's Career."

The single set and real-time pacing of the picture are the other noteworthy elements for discussion, with long takes that heighten the feeling of watching a stage play rather than a movie. These techniques intentionally make us feel trapped in the room; we can't get away from the chest and its terrible contents, and neither can Brandon and Phillip, as much as they might talk about their plans to leave town as soon as the party ends. Psychologically, neither of them will ever be able to leave that room, and when the truth comes out the other party guests will forever be haunted by it, as well. We might think, at the beginning, that the murder is the worst possible moment, but for everyone except David it's the aftermath that really turns the screws. Every time Phillip sees the rope again he comes a bit more unglued, but Brandon can't resist the urge to flaunt their crime, practically daring Rupert to confront them. Each reappearance of the rope symbolizes another bit of the crime being let out, until the murderers finally offer enough to hang themselves. It's both terrible and fascinating to watch, thrilling even though so little actually happens onscreen.

Hitchcock's later work with James Stewart in Rear Window (1954), The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956), and Vertigo (1958) would give the actor some of the most iconic roles of his long career, and Farley Granger also gets another outstanding role from Hitchcock in Strangers on a Train (1951). John Dall is particularly remembered as half of another murderous couple in Gun Crazy (1950), although his screen debut in The Corn is Green (1945) earned him an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor. If you enjoy the limitations of the single set approach, be sure to see Hitchcock's earlier film, Lifeboat (1944), which traps all of its characters at sea in a small, cramped boat.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Classic Films in Focus: I REMEMBER MAMA (1948)

Nominated for five Academy Awards, I Remember Mama (1948) is one of those movies that requires a handful of hankies to watch, especially for those who have fond memories of their own mothers. George Stevens’ nostalgic melodrama has all the right ingredients for a classic tearjerker, including a sweet, sincere performance from Irene Dunne as the idealized matriarch, whose dedication to her family knows no bounds. Barbara Bel Geddes also makes a lasting impression in her second screen role as the narrator of the tale, but the cast is full of talented character actors who each bring something special to the picture and enhance its appeal. While it might prove too sentimental for some modern viewers, those who enjoy heartwarming family stories will find much to love in I Remember Mama, which wisely balances laughter and tears in its depiction of the Hanson family’s experiences.

Barbara Bel Geddes stars as Katrin, the daughter of Norwegian immigrants living in San Francisco in the first decade of the twentieth century. Along with her brother and two sisters, Katrin grows up under the devoted protection of her father, Lars (Philip Dorn), and mother, Marta (Irene Dunne), who make many sacrifices for the benefit of their children. As Katrin enters adulthood and becomes a writer, she recounts the many ups and downs of the family’s life together, but she focuses most on the selfless love and support of her mother.

Both Dunne and Bel Geddes earned Oscar nominations for their performances, but the picture really belongs to Dunne, who manages to make Mama an angel without making her dull. Equally adept at comedy and sentiment, Dunne gives Mama enough good humor and strength to see her through almost any crisis, even little Dagmar’s emergency surgery. Some mothers might sit at home and cry, but Mama disguises herself as a cleaning lady in order to sneak into the ward and keep her promise to her daughter. Scenes that might otherwise play as maudlin, like the euthanization of an injured pet cat, are lightened by Dunne’s handling of the moment. The audience believes in Mama because of Dunne’s performance of her; the role would bring Dunne the last of five Best Actress nominations, and it’s a shame she never won. Bel Geddes, fresh-faced and girlish, looks far younger than her actual age as the adolescent Katrin; her youthful appearance and soft voice lend credibility to her role as a teenager still trying to find her place in the world. Katrin spends much of her time on the sidelines, watching and taking note of her mother’s actions, but Bel Geddes shines in the few key scenes where she takes center stage.

The two lead actresses get ample support from the rest of the cast, which features some memorable players who bring both depth and humor to their roles. Oskar Homolka is quite the scene-stealer as Uncle Chris, the overbearing patriarch whose loud personality masks his loving, generous spirit. Ellen Corby plays timid Aunt Trina with such a yearning for happiness that she alone of Marta’s three sisters commands our sympathy. Both Homolka and Corby picked up Oscar nominations for their performances, pitting Corby and Bel Geddes against each other for Best Supporting Actress (they lost to Claire Trevor in Key Largo). Trina’s mild-mannered suitor is played by Edgar Bergen, appearing without his wooden sidekick, Charlie McCarthy; as Mr. Thorkelson, he functions mostly as a comical figure but has a tender scene with Trina near the very end of the picture. Dedicated classic movie fans will also appreciate the contributions of Rudy Vallee, Florence Bates, Cedric Hardwicke, and Barbara O’Neil in brief but effective appearances.

The original story of I Remember Mama came from Mama’s Bank Account, a novel by Kathryn Forbes, which was adapted into a stage play by John Van Druten. A television series and Broadway musical followed, proving the story’s enduring appeal to audiences. For more of Irene Dunne, see The Awful Truth (1937), Love Affair (1939), and My Favorite Wife (1940). Barbara Bel Geddes is best remembered today as Ellie Ewing on the television series, Dallas, but you’ll also find her in Blood on the Moon (1948), Panic in the Streets (1950), and Vertigo (1958). See Oskar Homolka in Sabotage (1936), The Invisible Woman (1940), and Ball of Fire (1941). Like Barbara Bel Geddes, Ellen Corby had her most memorable role on television, as Grandma Walton on The Waltons, and she also has a small part in Vertigo; look for more of her in Caged (1950), Angels in the Outfield (1951), and Shane (1953).

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Classic Films in Focus: THE INVISIBLE MAN RETURNS (1940)

This sequel to the 1933 classic, The Invisible Man, stars Vincent Price as the latest victim of the invisibility formula that brings madness and doom to those who use it, a fate already experienced by Claude Rains in the original outing. Much like the first film, The Invisible Man Returns is primarily a showcase for its star’s distinctive voice and a series of special effects, although it lacks the pitch-black comedy and perverse genius of James Whale’s earlier work. Still, the 1940 installment provides enough entertainment in its performances and visual tricks to make for very good matinee fare, and Price fans are certain to appreciate the star’s early foray into the horror genre.

Price plays Geoffrey Radcliffe, who has been convicted of killing his brother and sentenced to hang. Innocent but desperate, Geoffrey accepts the help of his friend, Frank Griffin (John Sutton), the brother of the original invisible man. Frank has learned how to replicate his brother’s invisibility formula, which Geoffrey uses to escape prison and hunt his brother’s real killer, with the help of his fiancée, Helen (Nan Grey). Pursued by a Scotland Yard inspector (Cecil Kellaway) and rapidly succumbing to insanity caused by the formula, Geoffrey walks a fine line between hero and monster as he closes in on the secret enemy who framed him for his brother’s murder.

Although his mellifluous voice is heard almost constantly, Price spends most of the picture wrapped in bandages or completely unseen, which is a shame considering the actor’s youthful good looks. When we do see him, we understand why Helen is attracted to him, even though she recoils in horror from his invisible form. Price’s Geoffrey has more masculine appeal than either John Sutton’s nervous Doctor Griffin or Cedric Hardwicke’s oily Richard Cobb, but he also evinces a wry gallows humor that presages the kind of performance Price would become famous for in later years. Price’s delivery of his lines helps us believe in the invisible man as much as the special effects that show his movements, perhaps more so since only Price’s dialogue clues us in to Geoffrey’s many moods, from mounting insanity to melancholy and mournful despair.

The supporting players also work to suspend our disbelief in their unseen companion. Nan Grey is actually quite lovely as Geoffrey’s love interest, and she reacts with credible terror without seeming too weak to be worthy of Geoffrey’s devotion. Cedric Hardwicke pulls off some especially tricky physical business toward the end of the picture; he might be telegraphing Richard’s true intentions a bit too forcefully early on, but the movie doesn’t seem interested in making the real killer’s identity much of a mystery. Poor John Sutton has little to do beyond kicking the plot into motion as Dr. Griffin, since his character is basically a third wheel in every other scene with Geoffrey and Nan, although we do get the idea that he also harbors an unrequited passion for Nan. Character actors Alan Napier and Cecil Kellaway both make the most of their roles, with Napier getting some comical action as the drunken Spears and Kellaway managing to keep his policeman likable even though we know he has given orders to shoot on sight at an innocent man.

The Invisible Man Returns impressed the Academy with its special effects; it earned an Oscar nomination for them but faced stiff competition that year and lost to The Thief of Bagdad (1940). Joe May, who directed the film, also directed Vincent Price in The House of the Seven Gables (1940). See more of the inimitable Price’s work from this era in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), The Song of Bernadette (1943), and Laura (1944). For more invisible man movies, try The Invisible Woman (1940), Invisible Agent (1942), and The Invisible Man’s Revenge (1944).