Showing posts with label Veronica Lake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Veronica Lake. Show all posts

Monday, October 15, 2012

Classic Films in Focus: I MARRIED A WITCH (1945)



Classic horror makes an obvious choice for Halloween, but comedies can also fit the bill, especially when they offer a seasonably supernatural twist. Few Halloween treats could be more delightful than I Married a Witch (1942), an adorable screwball comedy from director René Clair that stars the very bewitching Veronica Lake as an immortal enchantress who falls for a human male. With an excellent cast that also includes Fredric March, Cecil Kellaway, Susan Hayward, and Robert Benchley, I Married a Witch is certain to cast its spell over almost any classic movie fan.

Lake plays Jennifer, a beautiful witch condemned to death by the local Puritans in colonial New England. She and her warlock father (Cecil Kellaway) are burned at the stake, and their spirits are then trapped inside a tree planted over their ashes. When they finally escape this prison several centuries later, the pair set out to avenge themselves on the descendant of the man responsible for their fate. Their unsuspecting target is Wallace Wooley (Fredric March), an aspiring politician already suffering from Jennifer’s dying curse that all Wooley men should be unlucky in love. Wallace’s luck, however, might be changing when Jennifer herself falls in love with him, thanks to a misdirected magic potion meant for him.

Although we remember her primarily as a noir star, Veronica Lake really shines in this comic role, perhaps her best aside from Sullivan’s Travels (1941), which had come out the previous year. Lake brings great vivacity to her strange but charming heroine, who represents a humorous mix of feminine types, from the immortal seductress to ingénue to madcap minx. It’s no wonder that Fredric March’s baffled hero doesn’t know what to make of her. Various sources report ill will between Lake and March on the set, but it doesn’t show up on the screen.

March takes the straight man role and plays it admirably; his character spends most of the picture uncomfortably caught between his intended bride (Susan Hayward) and the determined interloper. Cecil Kellaway, however, has all the fun as Jennifer’s mischievous, drunken father. A talented comedian and character actor, Kellaway plays the warlock as more devilish scamp than true villain, even though he’ll stop at nothing to end Jennifer’s romance with her mortal beloved. Luckily, his fondness for liquor proves a convenient Achilles’ heel that prevents him from doing too much damage.

Be sure to enjoy the special effects that open the movie and pop up periodically throughout the picture. Of course, I Married a Witch, along with Bell Book and Candle (1958), helped to inspire the later production of the classic television series, Bewitched. I Married a Witch earned an Oscar nomination for its score, but there were 18 nominees for the award that year, which finally went to Now, Voyager (1942). René Clair also directed The Flame of New Orleans (1941), And Then There Were None (1945), and The Gates of Paris (1957). See more of Veronica Lake in This Gun for Hire (1942), The Glass Key (1942), and The Blue Dahlia (1946). Fredric March won Oscars for his performances in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) and The Best Years of Our Lives (1946). Don’t miss the marvelous Cecil Kellaway in Harvey (1950), The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), and Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964). Ironically, Kellaway also turns up as Santa Claus on an episode of Bewitched.

While you’ll have trouble getting a copy of I Married a Witch on DVD, and it’s not available at all on Netflix, it does air sometimes on Turner Classic Movies. The Criterion Collection version of the film is also available for streaming on Hulu Plus.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Classic Films in Focus: THIS GUN FOR HIRE (1942)


Patriotism is not a quality one expects in a noir film, but Frank Tuttle’s 1942 picture, This Gun for Hire, reflects the moment of its making. The theme, however, sits awkwardly with the more conventional elements of the genre, especially in the third act. Despite a high profile cast that includes Alan Ladd, Veronica Lake, Robert Preston, and Laird Cregar, This Gun for Hire doesn’t quite come together, and each of its stars can be found in better films.

Ladd plays Raven, a hired killer out for revenge after his most recent employers set him up as a fall guy to cover their own tracks. Raven wants to settle the score with the craven Willard Gates (Cregar) and his mysterious boss, but the cops are hot on the killer’s heels. Meanwhile, the government recruits Ellen Graham (Lake), a beautiful nightclub entertainer, to spy on Gates, and she ends up caught between Raven, the police, and Raven’s dangerous prey.

Ladd’s fatalistic hit man is meant to be psychologically unstable, and he does have several good scenes of wild-eyed psychosis, but his conversion to the patriotic cause rings false. Lake, one of noir’s most iconic leading ladies, seems oddly subdued and fragile. There’s little real chemistry between her and either Ladd or Robert Preston, who plays her perfectly dull cop boyfriend. Laird Cregar, always a formidable presence, threatens to walk off with the whole picture every time he appears on screen. His Gates might be a pervert and a coward, but he’s more fun to watch than anything else in the film. Cregar’s performances are always a reminder of the kind of star he might have become had he not died in 1944.

Aside from Cregar, other highlights include the novel idea of Lake as a singing magician who punctuates her musical numbers with sleight-of-hand tricks. Cregar also gets a memorable sidekick in Marc Lawrence, who plays Gates’ henchman with a delightful mix of humor and menace. Several scenes underscore Raven’s contrasting impulses toward humanity and brutality, with the hit that opens the picture serving as a particularly good example. 

The movie falters mostly because it refuses to turn noir’s essentially cynical gaze on its flag-waving call to arms. Somewhere in the background lurks the possibility that Lady Liberty might be the picture’s real femme fatale, seducing the central characters into a series of lies and betrayals, but the neat ending suggests that Raven’s death, a foregone conclusion, might as well do his country some good. If he kills policemen and criminals alike along the way, well, that’s just eggs to make omelets, isn’t it?

This Gun for Hire made Alan Ladd a star, but he’s probably best remembered today for his performance in Shane (1953). See the lovely Veronica Lake in Sullivan’s Travels (1941). Robert Preston proves far more charismatic in his defining role in The Music Man (1962). The fabulous Laird Cregar can be seen in The Black Swan (1942), Heaven Can Wait (1943), The Lodger (1944), and Hangover Square (1945). You can also read more about Cregar in this Classic Movie 10 article at Examiner.com.