Classic Films in Focus: DEAD OF NIGHT (1945)

Long before The Twilight Zone came the 1945 British anthology film, Dead of Night, which weaves together a collection of eerie tales within a framework that gathers a small group of people in an English country house. While it's not exactly a horror movie, it does offer plenty of weird and even disturbing moments, and it would profoundly influence future horror anthologies, which have since become a unique and much-loved subgenre. Each segment of this multi-part narrative has its own director and stars, and each has its own charms, but standouts of the group include Mervyn Johns, Googie Withers, and Michael Redgrave as some of the unfortunate visitors to the stranger side of experience.

The frame tale follows mild-mannered architect Walter Craig (Mervyn Johns) on a professional visit to a remote country house, where he meets the owner, Mr. Foley (Roland Culver), and a group of his friends. Craig feels an overwhelming sense of uneasiness as he realizes that he has seen these people somewhere before, but he only remembers that the gathering ends in tragedy. Psychologist Dr. Van Straaten (Frederick Valk) doubts that Craig is really experiencing a supernatural vision, but the other guests try to support Craig by telling stories about their own brushes with the inexplicable, which range from the horrific to the humorous.

The anthology contains five stories in addition to the frame tale with Craig, and each one strikes a different tone. The hearse driver tale has an urban legend quality; it mostly functions as a short opening act for the more complex stories that follow. The Christmas party is a lovely, old fashioned ghost story that briskly moves through its beats, with Sally Ann Howes very charming as the heroine and narrator, also named Sally. In the story of the haunted mirror, Googie Withers and Ralph Michael play an engaged couple who become ensnared by the eerie menace of a newly acquired antique. Fans of iconic TV series like The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery will find the mirror adventure very much to their taste, and the two leads give great performances that really sell the story. In the fourth segment, Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne play golfing pals whose rivalry for the same woman leads to ghostly misadventures; it's a bit of comedic fun that fans of the duo - who first became famous for their appearance in The Lady Vanishes (1938) - will especially appreciate, but you don't need to recognize them as Charters and Caldicott to laugh at their scenes. The final segment stars Michael Redgrave as an increasingly deranged ventriloquist plagued by his sadistic dummy, and it's easily the creepiest and most iconic of the lot, with Redgrave absolutely riveting as the tortured partner of the nightmarish Hugo.

Michael Redgrave hushes the devilish Hugo.

The changes in cast and tone keep each new experience fresh as the picture unfolds, with the haunted mirror and the ventriloquist stories cranking up the horror and the other episodes offering varying levels of relief. In between we return to the frame tale, which works its way toward a hallucinatory climax that merges bits from every segment. The format would inspire many later horror anthologies, leading to genre classics like Tales of Terror (1962), Twice-Told Tales (1963), Black Sabbath (1963), Dr. Terror's House of Horrors (1965), and The House That Dripped Blood (1971), just to name a few. These later pictures increasingly leaned into the sexuality and gore that Dead of Night eschews, but television series like Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Thriller, The Outer Limits, and Amazing Stories continued to provide eerie chills without buckets of blood. It's worth noting that the anthology format is itself a very old literary genre, famously used in Boccaccio's Decameron and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, which makes Dead of Night a fascinating link in a long genre chain that connects 14th century texts to modern hits like Black Mirror.

Ealing Studios is remembered today for its comedies, and Dead of Night was very much a departure from its usual fare, but it includes many of the studio's regular directors and stars. Charles Crichton, who directed the golfing story, went on to make The Lavender Hill Mob (1951) and The Titfield Thunderbolt (1953), and Robert Hamer, the director of the haunted mirror tale, later directed the classic Ealing comedy, Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949). You'll find Michael Redgrave and Googie Withers along with Radford and Wayne in The Lady Vanishes, while Withers and Roland Culver both appear in On Approval (1944). Director Robert Hamer also works with Withers, Mervyn Johns, and Sally Ann Howes on Pink String and Sealing Wax (1945). If Hugo Fitch, the ventriloquist's dummy, fascinates you, check out Magic (1978) or the two Twilight Zone episodes with similar themes, "The Dummy" and "Caesar and Me." The first one is the more iconic of the two.

Classic Films in Focus: THE LADY VANISHES (1938)

Like his earlier film, The 39 Steps (1935), Alfred Hitchcock’s The Lady Vanishes (1938) straddles the line between mystery thriller and screwball romance. The sinister elements of this disappearing act staged on a moving train are matched, if not outweighed, by a pair of bickering amateur detectives and a cast of wildly comical passengers, particularly the vanishing lady herself, played by the delightfully dotty Dame May Whitty. Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave deftly manage both laughs and thrills as the picture’s leads, holding their own against the scene-stealing antics of Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne. Filled with Hitchcock’s sly humor but still capable of real suspense, The Lady Vanishes is a highlight of the director’s British career and a must-see film for fans of his later work in Hollywood.

Margaret Lockwood plays Iris, a spoiled socialite who befriends an elderly governess, Miss Froy (Dame May Whitty), while boarding a train filled with British tourists leaving a continental holiday. When Miss Froy suddenly disappears, Iris finds that nobody will admit to having seen her, and a doctor (Paul Lukas) insists that Iris imagined the whole encounter. With the help of a good-humored music scholar named Gilbert (Michael Redgrave), Iris searches the train for her missing friend, but nefarious forces conspire to prevent Miss Froy from being found. Meanwhile, the other British passengers have their own reasons for hindering Iris’ investigation, some more innocent than others.

The picture opens with a comical scene involving a holiday hotel overwhelmed by delayed train passengers, and this sequence sets the tone for the rest of the narrative. The major characters are arranged like chess pieces, or perhaps dominoes, in these introductory segments, each with defining characteristics that will play into the larger plot. Iris and Gilbert clash in their initial interaction, and their energetic attempts to irritate one another prove that they are destined to become a couple. Most of the other passengers appear in pairs or small groups: we have the adulterous lovers traveling as the Todhunters, the suspiciously foreign Signor and Signora Doppo, along with the formidable Baroness, and the cricket mad tourists Charters and Caldicott. Aside from Miss Froy, who spends much of the movie missing, the most memorable of these are the cricket fans, who impede Iris’ search for Miss Froy only because they fear that stopping the train will make them miss a much-anticipated test match back in England. Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne walk off with the picture every time their hilariously obsessed characters turn up, but their best and most scandalous scenes take place early on, when they are forced to share the maid’s bedroom in the overcrowded hotel.

As funny as the movie is, it doesn’t forget that it also has a mystery to solve. Miss Froy’s disappearance propels the initial suspense, but the plot gets thicker as time passes, ultimately evolving into a tangled web of political intrigue and espionage. Paul Lukas gives his brain surgeon, Dr. Hartz, a condescending air that the audience sees as suspicious right away, which builds the dramatic irony when Iris and Gilbert keep turning to him for assistance. The foreigners also give viewers the willies with their staring eyes and repeated insistence that Miss Froy does not exist, but Iris becomes suspicious of them much sooner. Magic tricks, a nun in high heels, a mysterious patient wrapped in bandages, and a dramatic finale all keep the plot twisting and turning right up to the end, when the gathered passengers get the chance to prove their mettle.

Be sure to note well-known British actress Googie Withers in a small role as one of Iris’ friends. For more of Alfred Hitchcock’s British films, see The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), The 39 Steps (1935), and Sabotage (1936). You’ll find Margaret Lockwood in Susannah of the Mounties (1939) and Night Train to Munich (1940). The Lady Vanishes is the first screen appearance of Michael Redgrave, whose later career includes The Importance of Being Earnest (1952) and The Innocents (1961). Don’t miss Dame May Whitty in Suspicion (1941), Mrs. Miniver (1942), and Gaslight (1944). Paul Lukas won the Oscar for Best Actor for his performance in Watch on the Rhine (1943), but he also appears in Dodsworth (1936), Strange Cargo (1940), and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne were such a hit with audiences that they went on to reprise their roles as Charters and Caldicott in Night Train to Munich, Crook’s Tour (1941), and Millions Like Us (1943).

The Lady Vanishes is available on Blu-ray and DVD from Criterion; the special features include Crook's Tour for those smitten with Radford and Wayne's comical duo. You can also see The Lady Vanishes on Hulu Plus, as part of their collection of Criterion releases.

Classic Films in Focus: MIRANDA (1948)

Mermaids must have been a hot topic in 1948 because that year saw not one but two mermaid movies, Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid and Miranda. The 1947 debut of live mermaid shows at Weeki Wachee Springs in Florida had something to do with it, although the Cornish setting of Miranda is far less tropical than that of its Hollywood counterpart. Directed by Ken Annakin, Miranda is very much a British picture, both very polished and very naughty and shot through with eccentric humor that benefits greatly from the unique charms of its lovely star, Glynis Johns.

Johns stars as the eponymous heroine, a love crazed mermaid who hooks a married doctor, Paul Martin (Griffith Jones), off the coast of Cornwall and persuades him to take her to London so that she can see the sights. Paul falls for Miranda, much to the dismay of his wife (Googie Withers), but Miranda falls for every man she sees, including the Martins' chauffeur (David Tomlinson) and a handsome young painter (John McCallum). Cared for by an eccentric nurse (Margaret Rutherford) who knows her secret, Miranda has a fine time, but her odd behavior and mysterious inability to walk eventually convince Clare Martin that something fishy is going on with her seductive house guest.

Plucky comic performances make this film thoroughly amusing, especially Johns as the winsome heroine. Most film fans will recognize her as the suffragist mother in Mary Poppins (1964), although she earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress for her work in The Sundowners (1960). As the star of Miranda she gets more opportunity to flex her comedic talent, and she makes the most of her fey beauty and kittenish voice. The supporting players mostly react to her, although zany Margaret Rutherford threatens to steal several scenes. Rutherford would be the only cast member aside from Johns to return for the 1954 sequel, Mad About Men, which says something about the importance of her character to the original picture's appeal. She would go on to enjoy a long run as Miss Marple in a number of films adapted from the works of Agatha Christie, although her only Oscar win, for Best Supporting Actress, came with her work in The V.I.P.s (1963).

For more of Glynis Johns, see 49th Parallel (1941), An Ideal Husband (1947), and The Court Jester (1955). You'll find Margaret Rutherford cutting up as usual in Blithe Spirit (1945) and The Importance of Being Earnest (1952). Look for Googie Withers in the delightful English comedy, On Approval (1944). David Tomlinson can be found as Glynis Johns' stuffy husband in Mary Poppins and as the unorthodox Emelius Browne in Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971). If you enjoy the first film, go on to the sequel, Mad About Men, although the original picture is the better of the two.

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

Classic Films in Focus: ON APPROVAL (1944)

The British film industry turned out some truly remarkable pictures during the classic era, and On Approval (1944) is a surprising testament to their talent, even if the movie is not especially well known today. Although celebrated British filmmakers like Ealing Studios produced wonderful comedies after World War II ended, this film, adapted from the 1926 play by Frederick Lonsdale, came out while the war was still on, and it consciously turns away from the grim reality of its world to offer a witty romantic comedy in the spirit of Oscar Wilde.

Set in high society in the 1890s, On Approval follows the romantic negotiations of two wealthy women and two impoverished upper class men. One of the women, Maria Wislack (Beatrice Lillie), is a widow who decides that any new husband must be properly tested before she marries him. She has a subject in mind for this experiment, too; Richard (Roland Culver) has been pining after her for some time, and he seems to lack only sufficient courage to make her a formal proposal. Maria, therefore, makes a proposal to him, and it's clear from this point forward that gender roles are going to be reversed as far as these two are concerned. Accompanying this interesting couple on their experimental excursion are Richard's friend, George (Clive Brook), and an American heiress named Helen (Googie Withers). Helen is in love with George, but George seems principally interested in making love to himself and to whatever bottle of liquor is closest at hand. The four socialites intend to carry out their program at Maria's home on a remote Scottish island, but their sojourn there becomes much more comical and complicated when the scandalized servants promptly give notice, leaving the privileged foursome to look after themselves.

None of the actors could be considered household names, but they are all wonderfully funny in On Approval. Each one provides a contrast to the others. Withers is young and doe-eyed as Helen, while Lillie is middle-aged and sharp-chinned as Maria. Culver's Richard is a thin little man, nervous and sincere, while Brook's George selfishly expands himself to fill any space he occupies, all the while delivering snide remarks and catty one-liners. He relentlessly taunts Maria about her age (even though he himself is older), at one point causing her to burst into tears. George then observes, "She's not crying because I said she was forty-one, she's crying because she is forty-one." It's a line worthy of Wilde's creations, and George is very much a Wildean sort of character, dissipated, incapable of sincerity, and deeply funny even when he is most deplorable.

On Approval is not entirely a throwback to the age of Wilde, however. It reveals an unexpectedly post-modern attitude toward its material, particularly in its use of the narrator, who opens the movie by complaining about the war and modern life before shifting the scene to the Victorian Age. The characters on screen are capable of having conversations with the unseen narrator at various points in the film, drawing attention to the artifice of the film. This narrator is not omniscient, and the characters are even able to correct him when he makes mistakes in his telling of the story. Also delightfully ahead of its time is the dream sequence that appears late in the film; the talking moose head in that scene is absolutely hilarious. Yes, it has a talking moose head, and if that doesn't pique your interest you aren't paying attention. I don't know how the dream sequence was played in the original stage version of On Approval, but in the film it's a fabulous romp through the characters' nightmares that puts effects and camera tricks to excellent use.

The gender issues being pursued in the film are complex; sometimes the movie seems sexist, and at other times the women get some well-earned revenge against those assumptions. Helen at first seems like the quintessential "angel in the house" type, faultlessly kind and long-suffering, but that image changes as the story progresses. Maria might be a harpy, and George is certainly a bounder and a cad, but they're evenly matched, at least. Richard occasionally comes across as a foolish milquetoast, especially in one scene where he turns up wearing a frilly apron, but like Helen he turns out to be made of better and firmer stuff than we first believe. One of the film's best revelations is that the nice girl and the hen-pecked man can outwit and avoid their cleverer and more callous companions. Stay with the picture until the end before you decide where its sympathies lie.

While On Approval represents Clive Brooks’ only turn as a director, you can see more of his acting work in The Four Feathers (1929), Shanghai Express (1932), and Cavalcade (1933). The very funny Beatrice Lillie also turns up in Around the World in Eighty Days (1956) and Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967). Look for Googie Withers in The Lady Vanishes (1938), Dead of Night (1945), and Night and the City (1950). Roland Culver also appears in Night Train to Munich (1940), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), and The Emperor Waltz (1948). If you enjoy On Approval, try other English comedies like I Know Where I’m Going! (1945), The Importance of Being Earnest (1952), and Ealing pictures like The Ladykillers (1955). At this time, On Appoval might be difficult to buy on DVD, but you can rent it on disc from Netflix or on streaming from Amazon Instant Video.

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