Showing posts with label Frank Albertson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Albertson. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Classic Films in Focus: FURY (1936)

Fury (1936) marks director Fritz Lang's debut as a Hollywood filmmaker, although by the time he arrived in the United States he had already made important films like Metropolis (1927), M (1931), and The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933). Despite its key position as a transitional work for the director, Fury is not as widely known today as some of Lang's other American pictures, the most popular being his 1953 noir classic, The Big Heat, but Fury is nonetheless an excellent film, filled with gripping performances and all of the director's favorite themes.

Spencer Tracy stars as the ill-fated Joe Wilson, whose long-awaited union with his girl, Katherine (Sylvia Sidney), sets him off on a road trip into tragedy. Mistaken for a kidnapper and tried by local gossip, Joe becomes the victim of a violent mob so intent on murdering him that they burn down their own jail with Joe locked inside. Joe secretly survives the ordeal, but his faith in human decency is shattered, and  he now cares only about getting revenge on the people who tried to kill him. When the court attempts to try the leaders of the mob, the townsfolk close ranks, but Joe manipulates his two brothers and Katherine to affect the outcome of the trial.

For Tracy, the role of Joe bears some similarities to his later performance in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941), where we also see him play two sides of a single personality. The original Joe is a straight arrow, a quintessential good guy who looks after his brothers and takes in a little dog out of sympathy for a helpless fellow creature. The post-fire Joe is a shadow consumed with rage, ready to watch nearly two dozen people die in order to satisfy his need for retribution. Tracy, always a terrific actor, makes both sides of Joe credible, although his craggy features are most effective in the later scenes, when we see him with burning eyes and a grim, pitiless expression. Sidney, with her delicate features and huge, startled eyes, makes a perfect foil to this later version of Joe, even as Lang reveals her to be smart enough to put two and two together, no matter how emotionally wrecked she is in the wake of seeing her beloved burned alive.

Like M, The Woman in the Window (1944), and Scarlet Street (1945), Fury reveals Lang's interest in the psychological, particularly various manifestations of guilt. The lynch mob leaders mostly bury their guilt, except for one memorable courtroom outburst, but Lang relishes the opportunity to confront them with themselves when the district attorney uses film footage of the mob to show what each member did that night. Joe also has to grapple with guilt as it becomes apparent that he will get the vengeance he desires in spades. Can he live with himself if the townspeople die?

In addition to Tracy and Sidney, look for Walter Brennan, Frank Albertson, Bruce Cabot, and Walter Abel among the cast. The biggest star in the whole movie, though, might be Terry, the little dog who plays Rainbow. You know her better as Toto in The Wizard of Oz (1939). For more of Spencer Tracy's best work from the late 1930s, see Libeled Lady (1936), Captains Courageous (1937), and Boys Town (1938). Sylvia Sidney is best remembered today for her role in Hitchcock's Sabotage (1936), but she had a long career that included many later television roles.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Classic Films in Focus: ROOM SERVICE (1938)

There are several truly brilliant Marx Brothers films, including Duck Soup (1933) and A Night at the Opera (1935), but Room Service (1938), directed by William A. Seiter, offers little to compare with them. It's a shame, too, because in addition to the brothers we get Lucille Ball and a very young Ann Miller along for the ride, and a combination like that ought to be a winner when it comes to comedic opportunities. If the opportunities are there, however, the movie fails to make the most of them, and Room Service ends up among the weakest of the Marx Brothers outings.

The plot of Room Service is relatively straightforward. Groucho plays theater producer Gordon Miller, who is struggling to get funding for his play while he and his actors crash the hotel of Gordon's brother-in-law. The hotel brass want the actors thrown out, but the ragtag group uses a variety of zany ruses to avoid getting the boot until the play can open.

Because this picture is not an original Marx Brothers story - it was adapted from a stage play - several of the usual elements of a Marx Brothers movie are notably absent, including the wonderful musical solos by Chico and Harpo. Groucho seems subdued; his usual barbed patter must give way to the scripted material, and he's left duck-walking around the hotel room without enough to do. The story might be funny enough if it were not trying to be a Marx Brothers film, but their presence creates expectations that go unfilled. Lucille Ball plays it more or less straight, Ann Miller is underused, and the funniest guy in the whole movie turns out to be Frank Albertson as the inexperienced young playwright, Leo Davis. Classic movie fans will most likely recognize Albertson as the braying Sam Wainwright in It's a Wonderful Life (1946), but his career included more than 180 film and television appearances.

If you are new to the Marx Brothers, start with one of their best films instead; A Day at the Races (1937) makes an excellent first outing, especially if you are watching with kids. After that, try A Night in Casablanca (1946) or even At the Circus (1939), which at least offers the attraction of Groucho singing "Lydia, the Tattooed Lady" to make it worthwhile. See more of Lucille Ball's earlier work in Dance, Girl, Dance (1940) and Lured (1947). Ann Miller, who was only 15 when she made this film and You Can't Take It with You (1938), would go on to star in classics like On the Town (1949) and Kiss Me Kate (1953). Director William A. Seiter, a veteran of silent films and musical comedies, also oversaw several Shirley Temple pictures, including Stowaway (1936), which actually makes for a better example of his work than Room Service.

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