Classic Films in Focus: HOUSEBOAT (1958)

Cary Grant and Sophia Loren make a charming pair in Melville Shavelson's romantic comedy, Houseboat (1958), which earned Oscar nominations for both its screenplay and the song, "Almost in Your Arms." Their chemistry is hardly surprising, given that Grant had fallen hard for Loren during the filming of The Pride and the Passion (1957), but the real life romance was even more complicated than the protagonists' love affair in the film. Grant fans who know the story will find Houseboat worth watching for its stars alone, but the picture doesn't rely solely on the considerable sex appeal of its two leads. In addition to Grant's smoldering interest in his leading lady, Houseboat offers some real laughs, several very solid supporting performances, and a believably bittersweet family story about a father trying to connect with his three grieving children.

Grant plays Tom Winters, a busy government employee whose impending divorce is derailed when his estranged wife dies in an accident. Tom returns home to claim his three children rather than let his wife's family raise them, even though the youngsters regard him with suspicion and hostility. To appease them, he engages the attractive Cinzia (Sophia Loren) as a maid, although she's really a runaway Italian socialite looking for freedom from her overbearing father (Eduardo Ciannelli). The awkward family group ends up inhabiting a dilapidated houseboat, where Tom and Cinzia develop their relationships with the children and each other.

Grant, thirty years Loren's senior, still manages to pull off the virility and charm needed to make him a credible romantic interest, not only to Cinzia but to Tom's lovestruck sister-in-law, Carolyn (Martha Hyer). Perhaps Loren's continental air narrows our sense of the divide; she might be young, but she's no ingenue, and she radiates a knowing sensuality to match her impressive figure. Cinzia knows how to handle men, even the ardent Angelo (Harry Guardino), who pursues her relentlessly until he realizes she's the kind of woman who makes a man think of marriage. The fuse to light the protagonists' flame is a slow-burning one, giving them time to size one another up and consider their options, but once it lights it blazes through the final scenes of the picture.

The supporting performances from the three children help to sell the family side of the story, with each child enjoying a few key scenes in which to shine. Charles Herbert takes the early spotlight as Robert, especially since the opening credits offer us his perspective of the world. Mimi Gibson is the most emotionally mature of the three as the daughter, Elizabeth, even though her fear of thunder sends her seeking refuge in her father's bed. Paul Peterson slowly unfolds the grief and confusion of the oldest child, David, who has taken to stealing things in the wake of his mother's death. Each of the young actors reveals the complicated emotions of children who have lost their mother and don't know what to make of the stranger their father has become. The pathos of their situation is never laid on too thick, and it doesn't weigh the lighter elements of the picture down, but it gives Houseboat more heart than other Cary Grant vehicles like Indiscreet (1958) or Charade (1963).

For more from writer and director Melville Shavelson, you might try The Seven Little Foys (1955), The Five Pennies (1959), or Yours, Mine and Ours (1968); he and Jack Rose also wrote the screenplays for films like It's a Great Feeling (1949), On Moonlight Bay (1951), and the Cary Grant picture, Room for One More (1952). See more of Sophia Loren in Two Women (1960), El Cid (1961), and Marriage Italian Style (1964). Mimi Gibson appears in The Children's Hour (1961) and provides the voice of Lucky in 101 Dalmatians (1961), Charles Herbert has a significant role in The Fly (1958), and Paul Peterson can be found on The Donna Reed Show (1958-1966). Cary Grant didn't play fathers very often, but for more familial images of the star, try Penny Serenade (1941), Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948), and Room for One More.

Classic Films in Focus: MARKED WOMAN (1937)

The world of the gangster movie is largely a boys' club, where women exist only as victims or commodities and the mobsters' guns serve as constant reminders of their phallic power. In opposition to that trend we have director Lloyd Bacon's very effective Marked Woman (1937), which features Bette Davis as the leader of a group of women who fight back against the mob's control over their lives. Inspired by the real-life fall of mobster Lucky Luciano in 1936, Marked Woman is a film that took a lot of finesse to get by the censors, but it's an excellent example of a classic Warner Bros. gangster picture that also offers something different from the studio's better-known films.

Davis stars as Mary Dwight, one of five "hostesses" at a night club newly acquired by Johnny Vanning (Eduardo Ciannelli), a vicious crime lord. At first, Mary and her friends agree to play by Vanning's rules, and Mary even helps the mobster beat a murder charge prosecuted by a crusading assistant district attorney named David Graham (Humphrey Bogart). Later, Vanning murders Mary's innocent kid sister, Betty (Jane Bryan), and the devastated Mary leads the women in a dangerous bid to help Graham bring Vanning to justice for his crimes.

Of course the women are prostitutes. The movie calls them "hostesses" to placate the censors, but there's little doubt about their real occupation at the club. When Vanning first takes over, his speech to the assembled girls pointedly includes directions to soften up the suckers for the gambling tables by any means necessary, and later scenes show them cozying up to various men according to the management's orders. The seedy nature of their work contrasts with their beautiful clothes and attractive faces, but they are all tough survivors underneath, pragmatic and jaded enough to cover up Vanning's crimes and keep their mouths shut. The actresses who play the women are all very good at projecting those facets of their characters' personalities. Davis is the undisputed star, but Isabel Jewell is very good as the soiled Southern belle, Emmy Lou, and Lola Lane, Mayo Methot, and Rosalind Marquis all give solid performances, as well. In the most powerful scene in the film, the gangsters beat and mutilate Davis' Mary behind closed doors while the other girls (and the audience) shudder in horror at the sounds of screams and blows. When the door opens, we see only the girls' white-faced reaction shots as clues to the carnage inside. Davis proves her talent for dramatic transformation when she later appears bandaged and beaten in a hospital bed, the wrecked visage and copious gauze a result of her own decision to make the scene more realistic than Bacon and the make-up department had intended.

Bogart's role is comparatively small, although the film marks a reunion with Davis following their appearance together in The Petrified Forest in 1936. At least the part of David Graham put him on the other side of the law for a change. More importantly for Bogart, the film introduced him to Mayo Methot, whom he married in 1938, although the union would prove to be a train wreck that ended with divorce in 1945. Eduardo Ciannelli has a meatier part as the gangster boss, and he makes a truly horrifying villain. Jane Bryan is fresh-faced and sweet as Davis' kid sister, a perfect contrast to the streetwise group who avenge her tragic death.

You'll find plenty of more masculine gangster action in films like Little Caesar (1931), The Public Enemy (1931), and Scarface (1932). For more of Bogart and Davis, see Kid Galahad (1937) and Dark Victory (1939). Isabel Jewell is probably best remembered today for her performance as the unlikable Emmy Slattery in Gone with the Wind (1939). Look for Mayo Methot with Davis and James Cagney in Jimmy the Gent (1934). For more from Lloyd Bacon, try 42nd Street (1933), Footlight Parade (1933), and Brother Orchid (1940).

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

Classic Films in Focus: STRANGE CARGO (1940)

It might not be the most enlightening title, but Strange Cargo is certainly an apt way to describe the content of this 1940 drama from director Frank Borzage. Joan Crawford and Clark Gable lead an ensemble cast in a very strange story, indeed, which mixes a prison escape plot with a theme of spiritual redemption spurred by divine intervention. The result is a picture that will appeal to certain classic movie fans but simply baffle others; those who like Angel on My Shoulder (1946) and The Bishop’s Wife (1947) will also enjoy Strange Cargo, while Joan Crawford fans will appreciate the leading lady’s tough and distinctly unglamorous performance. The presence of notable supporting players like Ian Hunter, Peter Lorre, Eduardo Ciannelli, Paul Lukas, and Albert Dekker also enhances the interest of this picture for fans of character actors with long and varied careers.

Crawford plays Julie, an “entertainer” on a remote penal colony situated on a jungle island. When she’s unwillingly accosted by prisoner Verne (Gable), Julie is ordered off the island for fraternizing with the convicts, even though she has no money to pay for her passage. Julie’s forced departure coincides with a prison break by Verne and several other men, including loutish Moll (Albert Dekker), wife poisoner Hessler (Paul Lukas), and youngster Dufond (John Arledge), as well as the mysterious Cambreau (Ian Hunter). The escapees make their way toward the coast, and along the way Verne and Julie meet once again and press on together, venturing through a dangerous jungle and then facing an even deadlier ocean voyage in a small open boat. One by one, the convicts experience redemptive epiphanies about their lives and die, with Cambreau as their confessor and comforter. Eventually Verne, too, must confront his sins as well as Cambreau’s otherworldly origin.

Strange Cargo basically tells two very different stories with one set of characters. The first story, the more concrete and conventional of the two, is the prison break plot. The usual treachery, forced cooperation, and high mortality rate all make their appearances, with Moll and Verne vying for alpha male status among the men. Julie’s presence is an odd feminine addition to the setup, but it gives Verne something to possess as a symbol of his dominance, and her experiences on the island show how vicious and masculine this setting can be. The second story draws on the long tradition of the spiritual redemption narrative, which has its icons in stories like that of Paul on the road to Damascus, St. Augustine in his Confessions, and John Bunyan in Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. With Cambreau as the agent of God’s forgiveness, the characters - sinners all - experience conversion and salvation, although the diabolical murderer Hessler pointedly rejects Cambreau’s offer of grace, slinking off to find new victims like the Devil in a medieval morality play. For most of the characters, salvation arrives just in time for their souls to ascend to Heaven, but the religious nature of the story insists that such deaths are victories because of the larger, eternal stakes for which Cambreau is playing.

The performances help to sell this unusual narrative merger, especially Joan Crawford’s fearless portrayal of Julie. The role requires little makeup, less wardrobe, and plenty of dirt and sweat, but Crawford tackles it all, and the fierce quality that defines the actress suits the character perfectly. Gable, no slouch at playing a hard luck type, either, makes Verne attractive enough that we forgive his rough manner even though his faults are clearly on display. The supporting players provide a diverse group, with Peter Lorre sweaty and reprehensible as Julie’s stool pigeon admirer, Eduardo Ciannelli intense as the convict Telez, and Paul Lukas really chilling as the unrepentant Hessler. Albert Dekker does an excellent job showing both sides of Moll, who acts like a brute but harbors a deep and honest affection for the young Dufond. Every convict except for Hessler has his better nature as well as his flaws, which gives the actors plenty to work with in their roles. Of course, the whole thing hinges on Ian Hunter’s beatific Cambreau, whose serene but solid presence upholds the others at the darkest moments of their lives. Hunter makes his angelic character heavenly without being stiff, and his face glows with charitable love for his fellow escapees. In the film’s climax, he becomes a Christ figure, his arms stretched across a beam as Verne finally has his own epiphany about the nature of man and God. It’s a heavy-handed moment, to be sure, but it’s consistent with the film’s message and underscores what has gone before.

For more angels among men, see It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), Angels in the Outfield (1951), or Wings of Desire (1987). Frank Borzage, who won two Oscars for his work, also directed A Farewell to Arms (1932), The Mortal Storm (1940), and Stage Door Canteen (1943). See more of Crawford and Gable in Possessed (1931), Dancing Lady (1933), and Chained (1934). You’ll find Ian Hunter playing paternal and princely types in A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and The Little Princess (1939). Paul Lukas won the Oscar for Best Actor for Watch on the Rhine (1943), and he also appears in The Lady Vanishes (1938) and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). Eduardo Ciannelli played many small and uncredited roles, but you can catch him giving a very memorable performance as the murderous guru in Gunga Din (1939). Finally, look for Albert Dekker in The Killers (1946), Kiss Me Deadly (1955), and The Wild Bunch (1969).

Strange Cargo is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.