The world is staying home this spring as a pandemic spreads through our countries, leaving many people to cope with the unfamiliar experience of social isolation. Literature and film are suddenly lifelines to adventure, community, and knowledge, and some of them can really teach us a few things about how to live while cut off from the rest of the world. As I keep up with the news this month I find myself thinking especially about Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe's iconic castaway and master of social distancing. Defoe's original novel, published in 1719, has inspired many subsequent books, films, and television series, and there's never been a better excuse or time to explore them. Here are some of my favorite Robinson Crusoe revisions and adaptations.
1) Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964) - This is probably my favorite of the films inspired by the novel because it takes Defoe's story and mixes it into 60s sci-fi, Paul Mantee stars as the castaway astronaut on the red planet, but you'll also find Adam West in a supporting role early in the film. Try this one if you're already a fan of classic sci-fi or you really loved The Martian (2015)!
2) The Martian (2015) - Matt Damon's turn as a castaway astronaut on Mars isn't a direct adaptation of Robinson Crusoe, but it certainly owes a lot to Defoe, and it makes a perfect double feature with Robinson Crusoe on Mars. When he gets left behind on Mars, Mark Watney uses science and creativity to survive. You'll really learn to appreciate potatoes!
3) Cast Away (2000) - If you want to come back to earth for your isolation, try the Tom Hanks hit in which a FedEx employee survives a plane crash and is stranded on a remote island. This is very much a modern Crusoe tale, although Crusoe's eventual companion, Friday, is a lot more useful than the soccer ball that Hanks' character names Wilson. Hanks, of course, has been in the news recently after being diagnosed with COVID-19 while filming in Australia, but I hope his time in medical isolation was a lot less traumatic than being marooned on an uninhabited island!
4) Swiss Family Robinson (1960) - Defoe's original story inspired the 1812 family classic, which is also worth handing to your kids while they're at home, but the 1960 Disney film adaptation is probably the best known of the numerous film treatments. John Mills and Dorothy McGuire star as the parents of a shipwrecked family with several sons, and this one makes a good family pick for kids who are too young for the films I've already listed. Best of all, you can stream it on Disney Plus if you're already sick of the two Frozen movies!
5) Lost in Space (1965-1968) - The Crusoe family tree adds another branch with this 60s TV revision of Swiss Family Robinson, which gave the world the iconic line, "Danger, Will Robinson!" Make your kids watch the 1960 Disney film first and then introduce the 60s TV series, the 1998 feature film version, or the newest 2018 TV series version (although the 1998 film is not particularly good, the new series is getting high marks).
Whether you're an adult looking for interesting ways to spend your time at home or a parent trying to craft educational but fun activities for kids, an exploration of Robinson Crusoe's literary and cinematic legacy is a timely choice. The original story is a good place to start if you have the patience for 18th century literature - it's a good read and a true classic with enormous influence. Otherwise try jumping in with any of the films and TV series listed here.
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Friday, January 27, 2017
Reel Resistance: RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981)
When it comes to movies that deliver on vicarious Nazi punching, it's hard to beat the original Indiana Jones film, Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). The third installment of the trilogy is good for that, too, but the 1981 picture features all the adventure of a classic serial and all the patriotic verve of WWII era Hollywood. It plays like a feel-good morale booster for a dark time, and that's what makes it such an excellent movie to revisit in 2017. These are the times that try men's - and women's - souls, and sometimes you just really want to watch the Ark of the Covenant melt off Nazi faces.
Of course, Harrison Ford's errant archeologist is a terrible example of an academic; imagine being his department head or an unfortunate student in one of his classes. You'd have to mount your own expedition into the heart of darkness just to get your graded midterm back. His research methods and cavalier attitude toward site preservation probably drive real archeologists to drink. It's clear that Steven Spielberg's movie really wants to differentiate its heroic tomb raider from the villainous ones, which is why Jones is an archeologist who steals things to put them in museums rather than sell them for his own gain.
Archeological ethics aside, Raiders holds up beautifully more than 35 years after its original release. It's still a delight even if you know every line of dialogue by heart. Every fight and action sequence retains its excitement, a testament to the film's pacing and score as well as the performers themselves. Ford is very much the swashbuckling star, but Karen Allen's Marion has tremendous appeal of her own, especially when she's out-drinking men twice her size. Characters in these films have become old friends to many fans, including Denholm Elliot's delightfully dotty Marcus Brody and John Rhys-Davies' genial Sallah. The bad guys are a memorable bunch, too; Ronald Lacey plays the sadistic and creepy Major Toht, while Paul Freeman is the greedy collaborationist Belloq, who enjoys taking relics away from Indy at every opportunity. Both get their glorious and much deserved comeuppance in the finale, when Raiders kicks over into full supernatural mode with the assertion that the power of the Ark is real and seriously hates the Third Reich.
The message of Raiders made a huge impact on Gen Xers, who grew up with similar themes in Star Trek and Star Wars movies, but in the Indiana Jones films the point is more overt because of the explicit depiction of fascism and the fragility of a more historically realistic world. It's hopeful in that we see Indiana and his friends triumph over the forces of evil, but it's also horrific because we know that these bad guys were - and are - real. In a world teetering on the brink of upheaval and awash in dangerous nationalist propaganda, Raiders of the Lost Ark feels both comforting and bracing at the same time. It captures the strange cyclical nature of history, this movie from the 1980s set in the 1930s but still speaking to viewers in 2017. Here we are again, folks. Better grab your whip and fedora.
More Reel Resistance:
75 Years in CASABLANCA (1942)
Classic Movies for Courage
My friend at Critica Retro is also posting about about #TheResistance at the Movies, so check out that blog, too!
Of course, Harrison Ford's errant archeologist is a terrible example of an academic; imagine being his department head or an unfortunate student in one of his classes. You'd have to mount your own expedition into the heart of darkness just to get your graded midterm back. His research methods and cavalier attitude toward site preservation probably drive real archeologists to drink. It's clear that Steven Spielberg's movie really wants to differentiate its heroic tomb raider from the villainous ones, which is why Jones is an archeologist who steals things to put them in museums rather than sell them for his own gain.
Archeological ethics aside, Raiders holds up beautifully more than 35 years after its original release. It's still a delight even if you know every line of dialogue by heart. Every fight and action sequence retains its excitement, a testament to the film's pacing and score as well as the performers themselves. Ford is very much the swashbuckling star, but Karen Allen's Marion has tremendous appeal of her own, especially when she's out-drinking men twice her size. Characters in these films have become old friends to many fans, including Denholm Elliot's delightfully dotty Marcus Brody and John Rhys-Davies' genial Sallah. The bad guys are a memorable bunch, too; Ronald Lacey plays the sadistic and creepy Major Toht, while Paul Freeman is the greedy collaborationist Belloq, who enjoys taking relics away from Indy at every opportunity. Both get their glorious and much deserved comeuppance in the finale, when Raiders kicks over into full supernatural mode with the assertion that the power of the Ark is real and seriously hates the Third Reich.
The message of Raiders made a huge impact on Gen Xers, who grew up with similar themes in Star Trek and Star Wars movies, but in the Indiana Jones films the point is more overt because of the explicit depiction of fascism and the fragility of a more historically realistic world. It's hopeful in that we see Indiana and his friends triumph over the forces of evil, but it's also horrific because we know that these bad guys were - and are - real. In a world teetering on the brink of upheaval and awash in dangerous nationalist propaganda, Raiders of the Lost Ark feels both comforting and bracing at the same time. It captures the strange cyclical nature of history, this movie from the 1980s set in the 1930s but still speaking to viewers in 2017. Here we are again, folks. Better grab your whip and fedora.
More Reel Resistance:
75 Years in CASABLANCA (1942)
Classic Movies for Courage
My friend at Critica Retro is also posting about about #TheResistance at the Movies, so check out that blog, too!
Friday, July 22, 2016
Classic Films in Focus: THE SPANISH MAIN (1945)
The Spanish Main (1945) revisits many of the same elements as earlier swashbucklers, especially Captain Blood (1935) and The Black Swan (1942), but this time instead of Errol Flynn or Tyrone Power we get Paul Henreid as the heroic pirate, and the actor gives a perfectly winning performance in the role. The picture suffers a bit in comparison with the greatest examples of the genre, and it certainly doesn't break any new ground, but Henreid and leading lady Maureen O'Hara make The Spanish Main an entertaining way to spend an evening. Gorgeous Technicolor costumes and supporting performances from Walter Slezak, Mike Mazurki, and the very engaging Binnie Barnes also add to the appeal.
Henreid plays Laurent Van Horn, a Dutch captain whose ship of immigrants to the Carolinas wrecks off the coast of Cartagena. Van Horn and his passengers become the prisoners of the foppish, corrupt viceroy, Don Juan Alvarado (Walter Slezak), but Van Horn escapes from the dungeons and reinvents himself as the notorious pirate known as The Barracuda. With his crew of former prisoners, Van Horn exacts revenge on Alvarado at every opportunity, but the best chance of all comes when the pirates take the ship carrying Alvarado's intended bride, the beautiful Francesca (Maureen O'Hara). Van Horn promptly marries Francesca to gall Alvarado, but his actions anger his pirate peers, especially the jealous Anne Bonney (Binnie Barnes) and his second-in-command, Mario (John Emery). With plots rising against him at every turn, Van Horn finds that he might actually be in love with his stolen bride.
Paul Henreid is, of course, best remembered for Casablanca (1942); in The Spanish Main he gets to play a more physical, roguish role, but his refined air softens his character in comparison with Tyrone Power's protagonist in The Black Swan. The juxtaposition of the two comes naturally because both actors play pirates engaged in a war of the sexes with Maureen O'Hara, who was classic Hollywood's go-to girl for gorgeous shrews. Henreid has an air of continental class, even when he's tied to the mast and being lashed, that makes us doubt the sincerity of Van Horn's misogynist threats, but the actor looks remarkably good in the period costumes, especially with his tousled blond curls. This is a sexier, looser Henreid, who looks like he's having a lot of fun. He's exciting to watch in the sword fight sequences, too, and the audience can certainly sympathize when Francesca falls for him. O'Hara is radiantly lovely in a series of dazzling gowns, but as usual her fiery spirit serves as her chief attraction, and she has some wonderful scenes in which her character gets to prove her mettle to Van Horn, even standing to a pistol duel and organizing the pirates' escape from Alvarado's treacherous clutches.
If the miniature ships and painted backdrops look a little obvious to modern eyes, the performances of the supporting players also help to make up for it, particularly Binnie Barnes in a delightful turn as the real lady pirate Anne Bonney. She's so feisty and fun that she could have carried her own movie, although the resolution for her character is one of the places where the picture falls flat. Walter Slezak makes for a preening, pompous villain as Alvarado; he would play a very similar role in The Pirate (1948), and in both pictures he's a perfect foil for the vigorous, virile hero. John Emery rocks his roguish hair and mustache as the slippery Mario, although he doesn't really have a lot to do until the last third of the picture, while Mike Mazurki proves the standout of the minor characters without ever uttering a word. Fritz Leiber, who had also appeared in The Sea Hawk, plays yet another priest character, and naturally he looks very much at home in the role, although he disappears toward the end of the movie as the action heats up.
Frank Borzage, a two-time winner of the Oscar for Best Director, made The Spanish Main toward the end of his career, which had started out during the silent era. He is probably best remembered today for A Farewell to Arms (1932) and the wartime morale booster, Stage Door Canteen (1943). For more of Paul Henreid, see Now, Voyager (1942), Deception (1946), and Rope of Sand (1949); he returned to piracy in Last of the Buccaneers (1950) and Pirates of Tripoli (1955). Maureen O'Hara plays more beautiful firebrands in The Quiet Man (1952) and McClintock! (1963), opposite frequent costar John Wayne, but for something different see her in Dance, Girl, Dance (1940). Catch Binnie Barnes in The Private Life of King Henry VIII (1933), The Last of the Mohicans (1936), and In Old California (1942). If you really want to loathe a Walter Slezak villain, see him at his worst in Lifeboat (1944).
Henreid plays Laurent Van Horn, a Dutch captain whose ship of immigrants to the Carolinas wrecks off the coast of Cartagena. Van Horn and his passengers become the prisoners of the foppish, corrupt viceroy, Don Juan Alvarado (Walter Slezak), but Van Horn escapes from the dungeons and reinvents himself as the notorious pirate known as The Barracuda. With his crew of former prisoners, Van Horn exacts revenge on Alvarado at every opportunity, but the best chance of all comes when the pirates take the ship carrying Alvarado's intended bride, the beautiful Francesca (Maureen O'Hara). Van Horn promptly marries Francesca to gall Alvarado, but his actions anger his pirate peers, especially the jealous Anne Bonney (Binnie Barnes) and his second-in-command, Mario (John Emery). With plots rising against him at every turn, Van Horn finds that he might actually be in love with his stolen bride.
Paul Henreid is, of course, best remembered for Casablanca (1942); in The Spanish Main he gets to play a more physical, roguish role, but his refined air softens his character in comparison with Tyrone Power's protagonist in The Black Swan. The juxtaposition of the two comes naturally because both actors play pirates engaged in a war of the sexes with Maureen O'Hara, who was classic Hollywood's go-to girl for gorgeous shrews. Henreid has an air of continental class, even when he's tied to the mast and being lashed, that makes us doubt the sincerity of Van Horn's misogynist threats, but the actor looks remarkably good in the period costumes, especially with his tousled blond curls. This is a sexier, looser Henreid, who looks like he's having a lot of fun. He's exciting to watch in the sword fight sequences, too, and the audience can certainly sympathize when Francesca falls for him. O'Hara is radiantly lovely in a series of dazzling gowns, but as usual her fiery spirit serves as her chief attraction, and she has some wonderful scenes in which her character gets to prove her mettle to Van Horn, even standing to a pistol duel and organizing the pirates' escape from Alvarado's treacherous clutches.
If the miniature ships and painted backdrops look a little obvious to modern eyes, the performances of the supporting players also help to make up for it, particularly Binnie Barnes in a delightful turn as the real lady pirate Anne Bonney. She's so feisty and fun that she could have carried her own movie, although the resolution for her character is one of the places where the picture falls flat. Walter Slezak makes for a preening, pompous villain as Alvarado; he would play a very similar role in The Pirate (1948), and in both pictures he's a perfect foil for the vigorous, virile hero. John Emery rocks his roguish hair and mustache as the slippery Mario, although he doesn't really have a lot to do until the last third of the picture, while Mike Mazurki proves the standout of the minor characters without ever uttering a word. Fritz Leiber, who had also appeared in The Sea Hawk, plays yet another priest character, and naturally he looks very much at home in the role, although he disappears toward the end of the movie as the action heats up.
Frank Borzage, a two-time winner of the Oscar for Best Director, made The Spanish Main toward the end of his career, which had started out during the silent era. He is probably best remembered today for A Farewell to Arms (1932) and the wartime morale booster, Stage Door Canteen (1943). For more of Paul Henreid, see Now, Voyager (1942), Deception (1946), and Rope of Sand (1949); he returned to piracy in Last of the Buccaneers (1950) and Pirates of Tripoli (1955). Maureen O'Hara plays more beautiful firebrands in The Quiet Man (1952) and McClintock! (1963), opposite frequent costar John Wayne, but for something different see her in Dance, Girl, Dance (1940). Catch Binnie Barnes in The Private Life of King Henry VIII (1933), The Last of the Mohicans (1936), and In Old California (1942). If you really want to loathe a Walter Slezak villain, see him at his worst in Lifeboat (1944).
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Classic Films in Focus: IVANHOE (1952)
Adapted from the novel by Sir Walter Scott, Ivanhoe (1952) makes a perfect companion to The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938). Both are rousing Technicolor adventures set during the days of King Richard the Lionheart, and Robin even plays a critical part in the later story. Robert Taylor might lack the insouciance of Errol Flynn's roguish Robin, but his Saxon knight is a bold hero, nonetheless, and Joan Fontaine matches her sister, Olivia de Havilland, as an alluring lady love. Director Richard Thorpe oversees the lavish production, which earned three Oscar nominations, and the film benefits from memorable performances by Elizabeth Taylor, George Sanders, and Finlay Currie.
Robert Taylor leads the cast as the heroic knight, who returns from the Crusades determined to free King Richard from imprisonment and restore him to his throne. Rejected by his Saxon father, Cedric (Finlay Currie), for his loyalty to the Norman king, Ivanhoe must contend with the treachery of Prince John and his supporters, especially the knights Sir Hugh De Bracy (Robert Douglas) and De Bois-Guilbert (George Sanders). Ivanhoe's adventures introduce him to the beautiful young Jewess, Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor), who falls in love with him in spite of his long-standing romance with Rowena (Joan Fontaine). All of Ivanhoe's friends, however, are threatened by the schemes of Prince John's allies, who hope to ensure that King Richard never returns to England alive.
Location shooting heightens the atmosphere and appeal of the picture, especially in the climactic sequence at Torquilstone Castle, where Ivanhoe and his companions are held prisoner by the Norman knights. Luckily for Ivanhoe, Robin Hood leads an army of Saxon men to lay siege to the castle, although in this film Robin is called only by the less familiar name of Locksley (played by Harold Warrender). The tournament scenes are also highlights; they exude pomp and excitement but also provide opportunities for each of the key characters to reveal themselves. Ivanhoe's first tournament, where he fights in disguise as the black knight, sets the stage for later conflicts between the Saxon hero and his Norman nemesis, De Bois-Guilbert, while their final battle brings their long rivalry to its destined end. The pageantry, shot in gorgeous Technicolor, rivals that of The Adventures of Robin Hood, although the mood of the later picture is more somber.
Taylor makes for a serious and mature Ivanhoe, but his performance sells the hero's commitment to his cause. The movie downplays the love triangle between him and the two women; Taylor and Fontaine are too well matched for any real doubt that Ivanhoe will stay with Rowena, but Elizabeth Taylor is so compelling as Rebecca that she makes us wish the story could end differently. She handles her scenes with emotion and skill, especially those that address the plight of Jews in Medieval England, and Felix Aylmer is also very good as her father, Isaac. Finlay Currie provides a different model of paternity as the stubborn Cedric, and he threatens to steal his scenes with his blustering resentment and underlying affection. George Sanders, an adept at playing the heavy, adds humanity to De Bois-Guilbert with the sincerity of his passion for Rebecca, but he's most in his element as the haughty foe. The rest of the Norman knights run together, particularly when they're dressed for battle, although Guy Rolfe makes the best of his few scenes as the despicable Prince John. Be sure to appreciate Welsh actor Emlyn Williams as Womba, the lowly serf whom Ivanhoe promotes as his squire; it's a shame that he disappears without much fanfare before the picture ends.
Ivanhoe picked up Oscar nominations for Best Picture as well as cinematography and score, but it had to compete with the likes of High Noon (1952), The Quiet Man (1952), and The Greatest Show on Earth (1952). Director Richard Thorpe returned to the same territory the following year with Knights of the Round Table (1953), in which Robert Taylor plays Lancelot and Felix Aylmer turns up again as Merlin. For more from Thorpe and Taylor, try All the Brothers Were Valiant (1953) and The House of the Seven Hawks (1959). See Joan Fontaine and George Sanders in Rebecca (1940), and don't miss Finlay Currie in Great Expectations (1946) and People Will Talk (1951). If you want to catch Fontaine and Elizabeth Taylor in different roles, see them both in Jane Eyre (1943), in which Fontaine plays the lead and Taylor appears in an important but uncredited role as Jane's friend, Helen Burns.
Robert Taylor leads the cast as the heroic knight, who returns from the Crusades determined to free King Richard from imprisonment and restore him to his throne. Rejected by his Saxon father, Cedric (Finlay Currie), for his loyalty to the Norman king, Ivanhoe must contend with the treachery of Prince John and his supporters, especially the knights Sir Hugh De Bracy (Robert Douglas) and De Bois-Guilbert (George Sanders). Ivanhoe's adventures introduce him to the beautiful young Jewess, Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor), who falls in love with him in spite of his long-standing romance with Rowena (Joan Fontaine). All of Ivanhoe's friends, however, are threatened by the schemes of Prince John's allies, who hope to ensure that King Richard never returns to England alive.
Location shooting heightens the atmosphere and appeal of the picture, especially in the climactic sequence at Torquilstone Castle, where Ivanhoe and his companions are held prisoner by the Norman knights. Luckily for Ivanhoe, Robin Hood leads an army of Saxon men to lay siege to the castle, although in this film Robin is called only by the less familiar name of Locksley (played by Harold Warrender). The tournament scenes are also highlights; they exude pomp and excitement but also provide opportunities for each of the key characters to reveal themselves. Ivanhoe's first tournament, where he fights in disguise as the black knight, sets the stage for later conflicts between the Saxon hero and his Norman nemesis, De Bois-Guilbert, while their final battle brings their long rivalry to its destined end. The pageantry, shot in gorgeous Technicolor, rivals that of The Adventures of Robin Hood, although the mood of the later picture is more somber.
Taylor makes for a serious and mature Ivanhoe, but his performance sells the hero's commitment to his cause. The movie downplays the love triangle between him and the two women; Taylor and Fontaine are too well matched for any real doubt that Ivanhoe will stay with Rowena, but Elizabeth Taylor is so compelling as Rebecca that she makes us wish the story could end differently. She handles her scenes with emotion and skill, especially those that address the plight of Jews in Medieval England, and Felix Aylmer is also very good as her father, Isaac. Finlay Currie provides a different model of paternity as the stubborn Cedric, and he threatens to steal his scenes with his blustering resentment and underlying affection. George Sanders, an adept at playing the heavy, adds humanity to De Bois-Guilbert with the sincerity of his passion for Rebecca, but he's most in his element as the haughty foe. The rest of the Norman knights run together, particularly when they're dressed for battle, although Guy Rolfe makes the best of his few scenes as the despicable Prince John. Be sure to appreciate Welsh actor Emlyn Williams as Womba, the lowly serf whom Ivanhoe promotes as his squire; it's a shame that he disappears without much fanfare before the picture ends.
Ivanhoe picked up Oscar nominations for Best Picture as well as cinematography and score, but it had to compete with the likes of High Noon (1952), The Quiet Man (1952), and The Greatest Show on Earth (1952). Director Richard Thorpe returned to the same territory the following year with Knights of the Round Table (1953), in which Robert Taylor plays Lancelot and Felix Aylmer turns up again as Merlin. For more from Thorpe and Taylor, try All the Brothers Were Valiant (1953) and The House of the Seven Hawks (1959). See Joan Fontaine and George Sanders in Rebecca (1940), and don't miss Finlay Currie in Great Expectations (1946) and People Will Talk (1951). If you want to catch Fontaine and Elizabeth Taylor in different roles, see them both in Jane Eyre (1943), in which Fontaine plays the lead and Taylor appears in an important but uncredited role as Jane's friend, Helen Burns.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Classic Films in Focus: KING KONG (1933)
King Kong rules as the alpha ape among a crowd of cinematic simians, and the original 1933 movie that bears his name has influenced countless other films. Many of our modern blockbusters can trace their roots to King Kong; its special effects work and emphasis on big action sequences showed later filmmakers what the masses craved, and for that we can either praise or blame Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack, who both produced and directed the film. While its oversized stop-motion ape and attitudes toward race and gender might well strike today's viewers as out of date, King Kong remains an essential picture for any horror or adventure genre fan, especially those interested in the evolution of the technical tricks that bring movie monsters to life.
Fay Wray screams and screams again as Ann Darrow, a penniless girl picked up off the street by director Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) for his latest crazy picture scheme. Denham leads an expedition to a mysterious island where Kong and his human subjects live, but the movie maker's plans go awry when the natives kidnap Ann as a sacrifice to their giant gorilla god. After much peril and the deaths of numerous men, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot) manages to save Ann, and Denham takes Kong as a captive back to New York for public exhibition. Kong inevitably breaks free to run amok in the city, and Ann is once again carried off by her terrifying admirer.
In an age of ever more complicated CGI effects, it's easy to see the limitations of the movie's techniques, and Kong has been parodied and revisited so many times that his power to shock has more or less disappeared. In 1933, however, he really was the Eighth Wonder of the World. Nobody had seen anything like him before, and the scientific study of actual gorillas was still in its infancy, so audiences didn't have extensive knowledge of the animals to contrast with the movie's nightmare vision. Stop-motion makes Kong an expressive, mobile creature, able to fight spectacular battles with dinosaurs and sea serpents, and composite shots of stop-motion and rear projection bring him and his human costars into perilous proximity. The work done by Willis O'Brien to bring the creature to life inspired Ray Harryhausen to make his own stop-motion monsters, and Harryhausen in turn inspired another generation of special effects wizards and blockbuster movie makers to create even more realistic dinosaurs, aliens, and giant gorillas. Without King Kong, we wouldn't have Jason and the Argonauts (1963) or Clash of the Titans (1981), and we wouldn't have Jurassic World (2015), either.
Despite its revolutionary special effects work, King Kong is very much a product of its era, with racy Pre-Code sexuality and casual violence that were excised from later reissues until the end of the Hays Code period. The story, which Denham insists on casting as a version of "Beauty and the Beast," really has more to do with taboo interspecies desire. Ann is chosen by the natives as a "Bride of Kong," which suggests a fate both deeply disturbing and biologically impossible. Kong reinforces the idea in the scene where he pulls away pieces of Ann's clothing like petals from a flower, revealing her exposed flesh for his own enjoyment and the titillation of the audience.The movie opens with a pointedly sexist discussion that segues into Driscoll's begrudging attraction to Ann in spite of her being a useless girl. For her part, Ann spends a lot of time insisting that she hasn't been any trouble to the ship's crew of red-blooded, woman-hating sailors, who then get killed trying to save her from Kong's clutches. The Skull Island natives are an overtly racist mess, while Kong himself is a more subtle commentary on the same themes, and Denham's unchecked capitalist chauvinism never gets the comeuppance it deserves. In a modern movie, at least, we can be pretty sure that the monster will eat a guy like that before the final scene fades. None of these problems should keep people from seeing the picture, since the same sins have been repeated in dozens of blockbusters since, but it's important to go into King Kong with an understanding of its not very subtle subtext.
Robert Armstrong and Frank Reicher return for the sequel, Son of Kong (1933), in which Denham and Captain Englehorn find another giant gorilla on Skull Island. The original movie was remade in 1976 and 2005, but each newer version has problems of its own, with the most recent treatment from Peter Jackson clocking in at a whopping 187 minutes. See more of Fay Wray in Doctor X (1932), The Vampire Bat (1933), and Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933). Bruce Cabot, a regular in Westerns, appears in Dodge City (1939), Angel and the Badman (1947), and Cat Ballou (1965). The Most Dangerous Game (1932) makes a fascinating double feature with King Kong; it also stars Fay Wray and was shot on the same sets.
Fay Wray screams and screams again as Ann Darrow, a penniless girl picked up off the street by director Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) for his latest crazy picture scheme. Denham leads an expedition to a mysterious island where Kong and his human subjects live, but the movie maker's plans go awry when the natives kidnap Ann as a sacrifice to their giant gorilla god. After much peril and the deaths of numerous men, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot) manages to save Ann, and Denham takes Kong as a captive back to New York for public exhibition. Kong inevitably breaks free to run amok in the city, and Ann is once again carried off by her terrifying admirer.
In an age of ever more complicated CGI effects, it's easy to see the limitations of the movie's techniques, and Kong has been parodied and revisited so many times that his power to shock has more or less disappeared. In 1933, however, he really was the Eighth Wonder of the World. Nobody had seen anything like him before, and the scientific study of actual gorillas was still in its infancy, so audiences didn't have extensive knowledge of the animals to contrast with the movie's nightmare vision. Stop-motion makes Kong an expressive, mobile creature, able to fight spectacular battles with dinosaurs and sea serpents, and composite shots of stop-motion and rear projection bring him and his human costars into perilous proximity. The work done by Willis O'Brien to bring the creature to life inspired Ray Harryhausen to make his own stop-motion monsters, and Harryhausen in turn inspired another generation of special effects wizards and blockbuster movie makers to create even more realistic dinosaurs, aliens, and giant gorillas. Without King Kong, we wouldn't have Jason and the Argonauts (1963) or Clash of the Titans (1981), and we wouldn't have Jurassic World (2015), either.
Despite its revolutionary special effects work, King Kong is very much a product of its era, with racy Pre-Code sexuality and casual violence that were excised from later reissues until the end of the Hays Code period. The story, which Denham insists on casting as a version of "Beauty and the Beast," really has more to do with taboo interspecies desire. Ann is chosen by the natives as a "Bride of Kong," which suggests a fate both deeply disturbing and biologically impossible. Kong reinforces the idea in the scene where he pulls away pieces of Ann's clothing like petals from a flower, revealing her exposed flesh for his own enjoyment and the titillation of the audience.The movie opens with a pointedly sexist discussion that segues into Driscoll's begrudging attraction to Ann in spite of her being a useless girl. For her part, Ann spends a lot of time insisting that she hasn't been any trouble to the ship's crew of red-blooded, woman-hating sailors, who then get killed trying to save her from Kong's clutches. The Skull Island natives are an overtly racist mess, while Kong himself is a more subtle commentary on the same themes, and Denham's unchecked capitalist chauvinism never gets the comeuppance it deserves. In a modern movie, at least, we can be pretty sure that the monster will eat a guy like that before the final scene fades. None of these problems should keep people from seeing the picture, since the same sins have been repeated in dozens of blockbusters since, but it's important to go into King Kong with an understanding of its not very subtle subtext.
Robert Armstrong and Frank Reicher return for the sequel, Son of Kong (1933), in which Denham and Captain Englehorn find another giant gorilla on Skull Island. The original movie was remade in 1976 and 2005, but each newer version has problems of its own, with the most recent treatment from Peter Jackson clocking in at a whopping 187 minutes. See more of Fay Wray in Doctor X (1932), The Vampire Bat (1933), and Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933). Bruce Cabot, a regular in Westerns, appears in Dodge City (1939), Angel and the Badman (1947), and Cat Ballou (1965). The Most Dangerous Game (1932) makes a fascinating double feature with King Kong; it also stars Fay Wray and was shot on the same sets.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Classic Films in Focus: TREASURE ISLAND (1950)
Long before Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney set sail for Treasure Island (1950), a production that charted new territory for the studio as its first live action feature. Adapted from Robert Louis Stevenson's influential tale of buccaneers and buried gold, the Disney version edits its source material to focus primarily on the relationship between Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver, a standard approach for film treatments before and since. What it loses in fidelity to the original, the Disney Treasure Island makes up for with Robert Newton's iconic turn as the infamous one-legged pirate, at once comical and menacing, and easily the most memorable aspect of the film, although Byron Haskin provides brisk direction of the action through a colorful backdrop of coastal towns and exotic island settings.
Bobby Driscoll stars as Jim Hawkins, a young boy thrust into adventure when a dying pirate named Billy Bones (Finlay Currie) hands him a map to buried treasure. Soon, Jim embarks as cabin boy on a voyage to discover the loot, with Squire Trelawney (Walter Fitzgerald) and Dr. Livesey (Denis O'Dea) as his companions and protectors. Jim also develops a friendship with the ship's cook, Long John Silver (Robert Newton), not suspecting that Silver is really a ruthless pirate who has his own plans for taking over the ship and claiming the buried treasure for himself.
The adaptation is not without its problems. Bobby Driscoll, best remembered as the voice of Peter Pan, is an obvious choice for Jim from the studio's perspective, since the child star had already appeared in numerous Disney pictures, but he is much too flatly American for the role, and he has an unfortunate habit of squinting, open-mouthed, at adult characters when they speak. Ben Gunn, played by Geoffrey Wilkinson, is also a weak point with his shrill, over-the-top wild man act, but his part is so truncated that he has few opportunities to offend. The other supporting players generally fare better, especially Denis O'Dea and Walter Fitzgerald, but they also get little screen time to develop their characters, and Finlay Currie is sadly underused as Billy Bones. Not a single female character appears in the picture at all, making this movie quite the boys only affair, although Stevenson's novel provides a good supporting part in Jim's hard-working, determined mother.
On the plus side, the scenery is exciting and authentic looking, even though the movie was shot in England rather than the West Indies, and the action rolls along without any slow spots. Moreover, Robert Newton takes control of every scene in which he appears, making the most of the picture's best role. In film adaptations of Treasure Island, Jim Hawkins is only the nominal protagonist, and Long John Silver is always the star. Newton effectively conveys Silver's mix of geniality and calculation; we never can tell which side he really wants to be on, and when we think we know him he surprises us again. Newton's delivery of his lines informs our idea of what a pirate is supposed to sound like, while his appearance, with his one leg, his talking parrot, and his swarthy, dark looks, has become the model of the stereotypical buccaneer. Newton became so identified with the role that he reprised it for Long John Silver (1954) and the television series, The Adventures of Long John Silver (1956-1957), but neither proved as successful as the original outing, and Newton died in 1956.
For more film adaptations of Treasure Island, try the 1934 version with Wallace Beery and Jackie Cooper or Muppet Treasure Island (1996), with Tim Curry as Long John. See Robert Newton in The Beachcomber (1938), This Happy Breed (1944), and Oliver Twist (1948). Bobby Driscoll also stars in Song of the South (1946), So Dear to My Heart (1948), and The Window (1949). Get a better appreciation for Finlay Currie in Great Expectations (1946) and People Will Talk (1951). For something really different from director Byron Haskin, try Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964).
Bobby Driscoll stars as Jim Hawkins, a young boy thrust into adventure when a dying pirate named Billy Bones (Finlay Currie) hands him a map to buried treasure. Soon, Jim embarks as cabin boy on a voyage to discover the loot, with Squire Trelawney (Walter Fitzgerald) and Dr. Livesey (Denis O'Dea) as his companions and protectors. Jim also develops a friendship with the ship's cook, Long John Silver (Robert Newton), not suspecting that Silver is really a ruthless pirate who has his own plans for taking over the ship and claiming the buried treasure for himself.
The adaptation is not without its problems. Bobby Driscoll, best remembered as the voice of Peter Pan, is an obvious choice for Jim from the studio's perspective, since the child star had already appeared in numerous Disney pictures, but he is much too flatly American for the role, and he has an unfortunate habit of squinting, open-mouthed, at adult characters when they speak. Ben Gunn, played by Geoffrey Wilkinson, is also a weak point with his shrill, over-the-top wild man act, but his part is so truncated that he has few opportunities to offend. The other supporting players generally fare better, especially Denis O'Dea and Walter Fitzgerald, but they also get little screen time to develop their characters, and Finlay Currie is sadly underused as Billy Bones. Not a single female character appears in the picture at all, making this movie quite the boys only affair, although Stevenson's novel provides a good supporting part in Jim's hard-working, determined mother.
On the plus side, the scenery is exciting and authentic looking, even though the movie was shot in England rather than the West Indies, and the action rolls along without any slow spots. Moreover, Robert Newton takes control of every scene in which he appears, making the most of the picture's best role. In film adaptations of Treasure Island, Jim Hawkins is only the nominal protagonist, and Long John Silver is always the star. Newton effectively conveys Silver's mix of geniality and calculation; we never can tell which side he really wants to be on, and when we think we know him he surprises us again. Newton's delivery of his lines informs our idea of what a pirate is supposed to sound like, while his appearance, with his one leg, his talking parrot, and his swarthy, dark looks, has become the model of the stereotypical buccaneer. Newton became so identified with the role that he reprised it for Long John Silver (1954) and the television series, The Adventures of Long John Silver (1956-1957), but neither proved as successful as the original outing, and Newton died in 1956.
For more film adaptations of Treasure Island, try the 1934 version with Wallace Beery and Jackie Cooper or Muppet Treasure Island (1996), with Tim Curry as Long John. See Robert Newton in The Beachcomber (1938), This Happy Breed (1944), and Oliver Twist (1948). Bobby Driscoll also stars in Song of the South (1946), So Dear to My Heart (1948), and The Window (1949). Get a better appreciation for Finlay Currie in Great Expectations (1946) and People Will Talk (1951). For something really different from director Byron Haskin, try Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964).
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Classic Films in Focus: 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA (1954)
Adapted from the novel by Jules Verne, Disney’s large scale Technicolor adventure provides plenty of eye-popping aquatic scenery, which helped it win a pair of Oscars for Special Effects and Best Art Direction. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954) also offers classic film fans a unique combination of iconic stars, including James Mason as the enigmatic Captain Nemo, Kirk Douglas as a feisty sailor, and Peter Lorre as a scientist’s nervous assistant. While its pace might seem a bit slow by modern standards, especially for younger children, the effects and actors make the picture well worth the two hours it takes to watch, and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea remains one of the best and most influential of Disney’s live action features.
Paul Lukas plays Professor Pierre Aronnax, who embarks on a ship with his assistant, Conseil (Peter Lorre), to investigate rumors of an enormous sea monster that is destroying vessels at sea. When the supposed monster attacks their ship, Aronnax, Conseil, and sailor Ned Land (Kirk Douglas) are thrown overboard, where they discover that the creature is, in fact, a technologically advanced submarine controlled by the misanthropic Captain Nemo (James Mason). Nemo reveals to the men a world of oceanic wonders, but his destructive methods cause them to question his sanity and look for opportunities to escape.
Lukas and Mason are the intellectual, dramatic leads as the idealistic scientist and his grimly jaded host. They represent different perspectives on science and the nature of man, and their debates hinge on philosophical, scientific, and academic principles. While Mason in particular gives a memorably brooding performance, the film does tend to slow down when Nemo and Aronnax hold the screen. Livelier scenes focus on Ned Land and the perpetually woeful Conseil, both of whom have far more pragmatic attitudes about their situation. Lorre plays comic relief with the same deadpan genius that characterizes many of his late career performances. Kirk Douglas’ Ned might be a greedy, impulsive fool, but he’s still the most energetic and charismatic character in the movie, especially when he’s singing “A Whale of a Tale” or goofing around with Nemo’s pet sea lion.
The submarine takes both the characters and the audience on an amazing adventure, with elaborate underwater scenes of divers mourning a fallen comrade and harvesting the bounty of the sea. Peril abounds, as Nemo first attempts to drown his three visitors and then involves them in dangerous expeditions, including an obligatory island encounter with cannibals. The giant squid fight sequence holds up well, even after sixty years, and the Nautilus is a fantastic early example of steampunk design, simultaneously elegant and menacing. These elements would have a lasting effect on the American cultural consciousness, especially with the ride at Walt Disney World recreating the experience for generations of fans from 1971 until 1994. Luckily, the film has outlasted the attraction it inspired.
Richard Fleischer, who directed 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, also made The Narrow Margin (1952), Fantastic Voyage (1966), and Soylent Green (1973). See more of James Mason in A Star is Born (1954), North by Northwest (1959), and Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959). Paul Lukas won the Oscar for Best Actor for Watch on the Rhine (1943), but you’ll also find him in Dodsworth (1936) and The Lady Vanishes (1938). Other Kirk Douglas films from the 1950s include Ace in the Hole (1951), Lust for Life (1956), and Paths of Glory (1957). Be sure to catch more funny performances by Peter Lorre in Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), The Raven (1963), and The Comedy of Terrors (1963). For a family-friendly film festival of classic movie adaptations of Jules Verne, try Around the World in Eighty Days (1956), Mysterious Island (1961), and In Search of the Castaways (1962).
Paul Lukas plays Professor Pierre Aronnax, who embarks on a ship with his assistant, Conseil (Peter Lorre), to investigate rumors of an enormous sea monster that is destroying vessels at sea. When the supposed monster attacks their ship, Aronnax, Conseil, and sailor Ned Land (Kirk Douglas) are thrown overboard, where they discover that the creature is, in fact, a technologically advanced submarine controlled by the misanthropic Captain Nemo (James Mason). Nemo reveals to the men a world of oceanic wonders, but his destructive methods cause them to question his sanity and look for opportunities to escape.
Lukas and Mason are the intellectual, dramatic leads as the idealistic scientist and his grimly jaded host. They represent different perspectives on science and the nature of man, and their debates hinge on philosophical, scientific, and academic principles. While Mason in particular gives a memorably brooding performance, the film does tend to slow down when Nemo and Aronnax hold the screen. Livelier scenes focus on Ned Land and the perpetually woeful Conseil, both of whom have far more pragmatic attitudes about their situation. Lorre plays comic relief with the same deadpan genius that characterizes many of his late career performances. Kirk Douglas’ Ned might be a greedy, impulsive fool, but he’s still the most energetic and charismatic character in the movie, especially when he’s singing “A Whale of a Tale” or goofing around with Nemo’s pet sea lion.
The submarine takes both the characters and the audience on an amazing adventure, with elaborate underwater scenes of divers mourning a fallen comrade and harvesting the bounty of the sea. Peril abounds, as Nemo first attempts to drown his three visitors and then involves them in dangerous expeditions, including an obligatory island encounter with cannibals. The giant squid fight sequence holds up well, even after sixty years, and the Nautilus is a fantastic early example of steampunk design, simultaneously elegant and menacing. These elements would have a lasting effect on the American cultural consciousness, especially with the ride at Walt Disney World recreating the experience for generations of fans from 1971 until 1994. Luckily, the film has outlasted the attraction it inspired.
Richard Fleischer, who directed 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, also made The Narrow Margin (1952), Fantastic Voyage (1966), and Soylent Green (1973). See more of James Mason in A Star is Born (1954), North by Northwest (1959), and Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959). Paul Lukas won the Oscar for Best Actor for Watch on the Rhine (1943), but you’ll also find him in Dodsworth (1936) and The Lady Vanishes (1938). Other Kirk Douglas films from the 1950s include Ace in the Hole (1951), Lust for Life (1956), and Paths of Glory (1957). Be sure to catch more funny performances by Peter Lorre in Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), The Raven (1963), and The Comedy of Terrors (1963). For a family-friendly film festival of classic movie adaptations of Jules Verne, try Around the World in Eighty Days (1956), Mysterious Island (1961), and In Search of the Castaways (1962).
Monday, September 8, 2014
Classic Films in Focus: SON OF FURY (1942)
Tyrone Power and Gene Tierney give Son of Fury (1942) plenty of sex appeal to go along with its adventurous story of 18th-century greed and revenge, and the sight of those two in extended scenes of Polynesian undress justifies the movie’s existence all by itself. Luckily, Son of Fury has plenty of other attractions for classic movie fans, including a fantastic cast of supporting players and excellent direction from John Cromwell. While not exactly a swashbuckler, this film adaptation of the novel by Edison Marshall offers one memorable thrill after another, with Power fighting, swimming, dancing, and romancing his way from the streets of Bristol and London to the shores of the South Pacific.
Power plays Benjamin Blake, whose supposed illegitimacy keeps him from inheriting his dead father’s estate. Ben’s uncle, Sir Arthur (George Sanders), treats him like a servant and hopes to prevent him from ever establishing a claim to the family wealth, but Ben has supporters in his aunt (Kay Johnson) and his beautiful cousin, Isabel (Frances Farmer), with whom Ben falls in love. After an altercation with Sir Arthur, Ben goes on the run, eventually finding riches and romance on a tropical island, where Eve (Gene Tierney) becomes his lover. Ben, however, feels compelled to return to England, confront his uncle, and claim Isabel as his bride, even though London holds many dangers for him as a wanted man.
Power gives a great performance as the hot-headed Benjamin Blake, who nurses his simmering resentment against his uncle for years. “Flesh and blood can stand no more,” he declares after Sir Arthur punishes him for courting Isabel with a vicious whipping, although he suffers violence at other hands, as well. The intensity of the character suits the star perfectly, and he looks equally good in the English period costumes and the Polynesian loincloth. The island costume puts quite a bit of Power’s physique on display, especially when he goes diving for pearls, and his matinee idol look is matched by Tierney as the native beauty who playfully joins him in the water. Her ignorance of English and Western customs might be laid on a little thick, but Tierney is so stunning that it hardly matters what language her character speaks. We’re on her side the moment we first see her, hoping that Ben will forget all about England and the sophisticated but spoiled Isabel.
The supporting cast elevates the whole production to an almost delirious height, with Sanders especially notable as the smoothly heartless Sir Arthur. He and Power have a series of riveting fight scenes that bookend Ben’s Polynesian adventures, and Sanders of course has the cultured manner and physical presence to pull off the role. John Carradine gives one of his characteristically brilliant performances as Caleb, the sailor who befriends Ben and takes him along to the remote Pacific island, while Harry Davenport is genuinely moving as Ben’s beloved grandfather. Dudley Digges steals his scenes as Bartholomew Pratt, the London man of the world whom Ben employs against his uncle; Digges has an ideal face for an 18th-century character, and his first scene is a highlight of the film. Even Roddy McDowall makes a brief but critical appearance as young Ben, setting the stage for Power’s adult interpretation of the character. Tierney and Frances Farmer supply the picture’s female beauty, but Kay Johnson, who was married to John Cromwell at the time, is wonderful as Ben’s aunt Helena, and Elsa Lanchester takes over the movie for her one long scene as a sympathetic barmaid who helps Ben evade the law.
The only thing that might have improved Son of Fury is color, which would have brought the Pacific Island scenes a lusher look, but as a whole the movie works beautifully. See more of Power’s tremendous energy in The Mark of Zorro (1940), Blood and Sand (1941), and The Black Swan (1942). Gene Tierney also stars with Power in The Razor’s Edge (1946), but she is best remembered today for Heaven Can Wait (1943), Laura (1944), and Leave Her to Heaven (1945). George Sanders won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for All About Eve (1950), while John Carradine gained lasting fame for roles in Captains Courageous (1937), Stagecoach (1939), and The Grapes of Wrath (1940). For other films directed by John Cromwell, try Of Human Bondage (1934), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937), and The Enchanted Cottage (1945).
Power plays Benjamin Blake, whose supposed illegitimacy keeps him from inheriting his dead father’s estate. Ben’s uncle, Sir Arthur (George Sanders), treats him like a servant and hopes to prevent him from ever establishing a claim to the family wealth, but Ben has supporters in his aunt (Kay Johnson) and his beautiful cousin, Isabel (Frances Farmer), with whom Ben falls in love. After an altercation with Sir Arthur, Ben goes on the run, eventually finding riches and romance on a tropical island, where Eve (Gene Tierney) becomes his lover. Ben, however, feels compelled to return to England, confront his uncle, and claim Isabel as his bride, even though London holds many dangers for him as a wanted man.
Power gives a great performance as the hot-headed Benjamin Blake, who nurses his simmering resentment against his uncle for years. “Flesh and blood can stand no more,” he declares after Sir Arthur punishes him for courting Isabel with a vicious whipping, although he suffers violence at other hands, as well. The intensity of the character suits the star perfectly, and he looks equally good in the English period costumes and the Polynesian loincloth. The island costume puts quite a bit of Power’s physique on display, especially when he goes diving for pearls, and his matinee idol look is matched by Tierney as the native beauty who playfully joins him in the water. Her ignorance of English and Western customs might be laid on a little thick, but Tierney is so stunning that it hardly matters what language her character speaks. We’re on her side the moment we first see her, hoping that Ben will forget all about England and the sophisticated but spoiled Isabel.
The supporting cast elevates the whole production to an almost delirious height, with Sanders especially notable as the smoothly heartless Sir Arthur. He and Power have a series of riveting fight scenes that bookend Ben’s Polynesian adventures, and Sanders of course has the cultured manner and physical presence to pull off the role. John Carradine gives one of his characteristically brilliant performances as Caleb, the sailor who befriends Ben and takes him along to the remote Pacific island, while Harry Davenport is genuinely moving as Ben’s beloved grandfather. Dudley Digges steals his scenes as Bartholomew Pratt, the London man of the world whom Ben employs against his uncle; Digges has an ideal face for an 18th-century character, and his first scene is a highlight of the film. Even Roddy McDowall makes a brief but critical appearance as young Ben, setting the stage for Power’s adult interpretation of the character. Tierney and Frances Farmer supply the picture’s female beauty, but Kay Johnson, who was married to John Cromwell at the time, is wonderful as Ben’s aunt Helena, and Elsa Lanchester takes over the movie for her one long scene as a sympathetic barmaid who helps Ben evade the law.
The only thing that might have improved Son of Fury is color, which would have brought the Pacific Island scenes a lusher look, but as a whole the movie works beautifully. See more of Power’s tremendous energy in The Mark of Zorro (1940), Blood and Sand (1941), and The Black Swan (1942). Gene Tierney also stars with Power in The Razor’s Edge (1946), but she is best remembered today for Heaven Can Wait (1943), Laura (1944), and Leave Her to Heaven (1945). George Sanders won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for All About Eve (1950), while John Carradine gained lasting fame for roles in Captains Courageous (1937), Stagecoach (1939), and The Grapes of Wrath (1940). For other films directed by John Cromwell, try Of Human Bondage (1934), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937), and The Enchanted Cottage (1945).
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Classic Films in Focus: SINBAD AND THE EYE OF THE TIGER (1977)
As the third and final Ray Harryhausen movie to feature the legendary hero, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977) arrives fairly late in the special effects icon’s canon; his last feature, Clash of the Titans (1981), would come just a few years later. While Harryhausen, working as both a producer and special effects creator for his films, still dominates the production with his expansive imagination, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger also takes note of the changing times by having a more glamorous and noteworthy cast in addition to its stop-motion stars. Patrick Wayne and Taryn Power, both the children of screen legends, take leading roles, and the stunning Jane Seymour also stars as Sinbad’s love interest. The result is a movie that belongs very much to its era but still offers plenty to entertain nostalgic Gen Xers and devoted fans of Harryhausen’s particular genius.
Patrick Wayne stars as Sinbad, who sets out on a mission to save his friend, Prince Kassim (Damien Thomas), after the evil sorceress Zenobia (Margaret Whiting) changes him into a baboon just before his coronation. Kassim’s sister, Farah (Jane Seymour), accompanies Sinbad and his crew because she alone can manage the bewitched prince, who grows more bestial with each passing day. They sail far in search of Melanthius (Patrick Troughton), a wise man who might be their only hope of restoring the prince to his true form. With help from him and his daughter, Dione (Taryn Power), our heroes then race to a climactic showdown with Zenobia in a dangerous and magical land.
As always, the fantastic setting provides Harryhausen with many opportunities to create and animate bizarre creatures. Chief among these is the baboon version of Prince Kassim, who interacts with human performers very convincingly, especially in the close quarters of Sinbad’s ship. Kassim reacts with horror to his own reflection, plays chess against human opponents, and even expresses the transformed prince’s romantic interest in Dione, a subtle and complicated concept given the limits of animation and a baboon’s face. Other notable creatures in this adventure include the metal minotaur that serves Zenobia, the gentle Trog who helps our heroes, and the fearsome sabre-toothed cat that appears during the final climax.
Nobody in the human cast is turning in a really brilliant performance, but they look good and seem game enough for the weird experience of acting against stop-motion costars. Patrick Wayne, the son of Western icon John Wayne, sports a gloriously 70s head of curls to go with his disco-era paisley tops, but he lacks the bold screen presence of a true swashbuckler. Jane Seymour is, of course, gorgeous as the princess, and Tyrone Power’s daughter, Taryn, makes a very striking blonde counterpart to Seymour’s brunette beauty. Both show a good bit of skin, but they also get to play important roles in the adventure and are not merely screaming victims to be rescued by men. Margaret Whiting might be chewing the scenery as the scheming Zenobia, but she is certainly memorable, and she has to be larger than life herself as the creator of so much magical mischief. Having already appeared in Jason and the Argonauts (1963), Patrick Troughton brings experience with the Harryhausen world as Melanthius, and it’s always good to see the Doctor Who star in a different light, even if he is more or less unrecognizable under all that hair.
See The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973) for Ray Harryhausen’s other adventures with the Arabian hero. Sam Wanamaker, who directed Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, was more productive in his career as an actor and mostly directed for television. Patrick Wayne appeared in several movies with his father, including The Alamo (1960), McLintock! (1963), and Big Jake (1971). Taryn Power only made a handful of films, but Jane Seymour can be found in Live and Let Die (1973), Battlestar Galactica (1978), and Somewhere in Time (1980). If you enjoy the fantasy East of the Harryhausen movies, try either the 1924 or the 1940 version of The Thief of Bagdad.
Patrick Wayne stars as Sinbad, who sets out on a mission to save his friend, Prince Kassim (Damien Thomas), after the evil sorceress Zenobia (Margaret Whiting) changes him into a baboon just before his coronation. Kassim’s sister, Farah (Jane Seymour), accompanies Sinbad and his crew because she alone can manage the bewitched prince, who grows more bestial with each passing day. They sail far in search of Melanthius (Patrick Troughton), a wise man who might be their only hope of restoring the prince to his true form. With help from him and his daughter, Dione (Taryn Power), our heroes then race to a climactic showdown with Zenobia in a dangerous and magical land.
As always, the fantastic setting provides Harryhausen with many opportunities to create and animate bizarre creatures. Chief among these is the baboon version of Prince Kassim, who interacts with human performers very convincingly, especially in the close quarters of Sinbad’s ship. Kassim reacts with horror to his own reflection, plays chess against human opponents, and even expresses the transformed prince’s romantic interest in Dione, a subtle and complicated concept given the limits of animation and a baboon’s face. Other notable creatures in this adventure include the metal minotaur that serves Zenobia, the gentle Trog who helps our heroes, and the fearsome sabre-toothed cat that appears during the final climax.
Nobody in the human cast is turning in a really brilliant performance, but they look good and seem game enough for the weird experience of acting against stop-motion costars. Patrick Wayne, the son of Western icon John Wayne, sports a gloriously 70s head of curls to go with his disco-era paisley tops, but he lacks the bold screen presence of a true swashbuckler. Jane Seymour is, of course, gorgeous as the princess, and Tyrone Power’s daughter, Taryn, makes a very striking blonde counterpart to Seymour’s brunette beauty. Both show a good bit of skin, but they also get to play important roles in the adventure and are not merely screaming victims to be rescued by men. Margaret Whiting might be chewing the scenery as the scheming Zenobia, but she is certainly memorable, and she has to be larger than life herself as the creator of so much magical mischief. Having already appeared in Jason and the Argonauts (1963), Patrick Troughton brings experience with the Harryhausen world as Melanthius, and it’s always good to see the Doctor Who star in a different light, even if he is more or less unrecognizable under all that hair.
See The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973) for Ray Harryhausen’s other adventures with the Arabian hero. Sam Wanamaker, who directed Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, was more productive in his career as an actor and mostly directed for television. Patrick Wayne appeared in several movies with his father, including The Alamo (1960), McLintock! (1963), and Big Jake (1971). Taryn Power only made a handful of films, but Jane Seymour can be found in Live and Let Die (1973), Battlestar Galactica (1978), and Somewhere in Time (1980). If you enjoy the fantasy East of the Harryhausen movies, try either the 1924 or the 1940 version of The Thief of Bagdad.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Classic Films in Focus: MIGHTY JOE YOUNG (1949)
King Kong (1933) gave rise to a whole host of subsequent gorilla movies, beginning with The Son of Kong (1933), but Mighty Joe Young (1949) merits special attention because it marks the feature film debut of one of the greatest innovators in special effects history, Ray Harryhausen, who worked on the stop-motion sequences in the picture along with King Kong veteran Willis O’Brien. Those who watch Mighty Joe Young today probably do so because of Harryhausen’s involvement with the production, and his ability to invest a stop-motion character with incredible emotion and vitality is on full display in the expressive Joe. The human cast are solid in their performances, and the story is interesting if a bit overblown toward the end, but this is the big gorilla’s movie from start to finish, and Harryhausen’s Joe does not disappoint.
Robert Armstrong plays Max O’Hara, a showman who travels to Africa to promote his latest nightclub scheme, which features an African theme and live lions behind glass. There he encounters the gigantic Joe and his companion, Jill (Terry Moore), whom he convinces to travel to America in order to be the headline act at the club. Jill soon realizes that leaving home was a big mistake, especially since Joe is condemned to life in a cage, but Max is reluctant to give up his profitable stars. When thoughtless patrons provoke Joe into a violent rampage, Jill and her cowboy friend, Gregg (Ben Johnson), must escape with the big ape in order to save his life.
From his first appearance on the screen, Joe is a fascinating character. His capacity for violence quickly becomes evident, but the travelers and the audience are surprised by his gentleness with Jill, who bosses him around like an overgrown baby or an unruly pup. Joe has soulful eyes that sometimes widen with surprise or blaze with fury; we sympathize with him as a real individual, forgetting that he is a special effect when he mourns his imprisonment or lashes out during a moment of drunken panic. He can be funny or tragic, brave or bestial, depending on what happens around him. Harryhausen uses subtle changes in body language and facial expression to suggest depression, disgust, and even uncertainty, making this early creation one of his most human characters and also paving the way for creatures seen in later films like Jason and the Argonauts (1963), Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), and Clash of the Titans (1981).
The human actors support the simian star admirably and help us to believe in Joe by their reactions to him. Robert Armstrong, a veteran of both King Kong and The Son of Kong, brings plenty of experience acting against animated apes to his role as the overeager producer, Max, but he also evinces a great talent for comedy in his scenes with Joe and an uncooperative horse early in the film. Relative newcomer Terry Moore plays one of her first really significant roles as Jill; she has a fresh-faced sweetness that justifies her gullibility as well as the strength of character to make us believe that she can handle a rampaging giant gorilla all by herself. Of the three lead actors, Ben Johnson is the most familiar to modern viewers, although Gregg is one of his first big roles, as well, and the Oklahoma cowboy functions as a gentler, younger version of the kind of Western character Johnson would go on to play. The subdued romance between Jill and Gregg is a sweetly played sidenote to the central plot, with both Moore and Johnson expressing a very G rated passion that even the youngest viewers won’t find offensive. Their one really romantic moment quickly gives way to a fiery climax involving a burning orphanage, where Joe once again dominates the screen.
Blink and you’ll miss Beverly Hillbillies star Irene Ryan in the bar scene during Joe’s big debut. Ernest B. Schoedsack, who directed Mighty Joe Young, also made The Most Dangerous Game (1932), The Son of Kong (1933), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). Ben Johnson won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in The Last Picture Show (1971), but he also has memorable roles in Wagon Master (1950), Rio Grande (1950), and The Wild Bunch (1969). See Terry Moore in Come Back, Little Sheba (1952), Daddy Long Legs (1955), and Peyton Place (1957). For more of Ray Harryhausen’s special effects, see The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), and The Valley of Gwangi (1969). Mighty Joe Young was remade in 1998 with Charlize Theron and Bill Paxton in the lead roles, but see the original first.
Mighty Joe Young is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.
Robert Armstrong plays Max O’Hara, a showman who travels to Africa to promote his latest nightclub scheme, which features an African theme and live lions behind glass. There he encounters the gigantic Joe and his companion, Jill (Terry Moore), whom he convinces to travel to America in order to be the headline act at the club. Jill soon realizes that leaving home was a big mistake, especially since Joe is condemned to life in a cage, but Max is reluctant to give up his profitable stars. When thoughtless patrons provoke Joe into a violent rampage, Jill and her cowboy friend, Gregg (Ben Johnson), must escape with the big ape in order to save his life.
From his first appearance on the screen, Joe is a fascinating character. His capacity for violence quickly becomes evident, but the travelers and the audience are surprised by his gentleness with Jill, who bosses him around like an overgrown baby or an unruly pup. Joe has soulful eyes that sometimes widen with surprise or blaze with fury; we sympathize with him as a real individual, forgetting that he is a special effect when he mourns his imprisonment or lashes out during a moment of drunken panic. He can be funny or tragic, brave or bestial, depending on what happens around him. Harryhausen uses subtle changes in body language and facial expression to suggest depression, disgust, and even uncertainty, making this early creation one of his most human characters and also paving the way for creatures seen in later films like Jason and the Argonauts (1963), Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), and Clash of the Titans (1981).
The human actors support the simian star admirably and help us to believe in Joe by their reactions to him. Robert Armstrong, a veteran of both King Kong and The Son of Kong, brings plenty of experience acting against animated apes to his role as the overeager producer, Max, but he also evinces a great talent for comedy in his scenes with Joe and an uncooperative horse early in the film. Relative newcomer Terry Moore plays one of her first really significant roles as Jill; she has a fresh-faced sweetness that justifies her gullibility as well as the strength of character to make us believe that she can handle a rampaging giant gorilla all by herself. Of the three lead actors, Ben Johnson is the most familiar to modern viewers, although Gregg is one of his first big roles, as well, and the Oklahoma cowboy functions as a gentler, younger version of the kind of Western character Johnson would go on to play. The subdued romance between Jill and Gregg is a sweetly played sidenote to the central plot, with both Moore and Johnson expressing a very G rated passion that even the youngest viewers won’t find offensive. Their one really romantic moment quickly gives way to a fiery climax involving a burning orphanage, where Joe once again dominates the screen.
Blink and you’ll miss Beverly Hillbillies star Irene Ryan in the bar scene during Joe’s big debut. Ernest B. Schoedsack, who directed Mighty Joe Young, also made The Most Dangerous Game (1932), The Son of Kong (1933), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). Ben Johnson won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in The Last Picture Show (1971), but he also has memorable roles in Wagon Master (1950), Rio Grande (1950), and The Wild Bunch (1969). See Terry Moore in Come Back, Little Sheba (1952), Daddy Long Legs (1955), and Peyton Place (1957). For more of Ray Harryhausen’s special effects, see The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), and The Valley of Gwangi (1969). Mighty Joe Young was remade in 1998 with Charlize Theron and Bill Paxton in the lead roles, but see the original first.
Mighty Joe Young is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Classic Films in Focus: CHANDU THE MAGICIAN (1932)
In the 1930s, Chandu the Magician was a popular radio program with a supernatural twist that lent itself to eerie sound effects, replete with the creaking doors, ringing bells, and ominous footsteps that made such programs so delightfully spine-tingling for their listeners. The movie version sought to take advantage of the original’s popularity with audiences, but it also had to translate the spooky chills into a visual medium, no small task considering a plot that involves astral bells, hypnotism, and hallucinations as well as exotic locations. Happily, Chandu the Magician (1932) manages to deliver quite a thrilling ride for viewers, thanks to inventive direction by William Cameron Menzies and Marcel Varnel. If Edmund Lowe is a bit stiff as the title hero, the special effects and sense of adventure go a long way to make up for it, but the real treat here is a deliciously evil performance by Bela Lugosi as a madman bent on controlling the world.
Lowe plays Frank Chandler, better known as Chandu the Magician, a white man who has acquired the mental powers of the Hindu yogi as well as their taste in headgear. Chandu leaves India for Egypt to defend the world and his sister’s family against the maniacal Roxor (Lugosi), who hopes to take over the planet by means of a giant death ray invented by Chandu’s brother-in-law, Robert Regent (Henry B. Walthall). Roxor will stop at nothing to gain knowledge of the ray, and Chandu finds himself, his family, and his lovely friend Princess Nadji (Irene Ware) in constant peril from Roxor’s countless lackeys and spies.
Chandu the Magician plays more or less as a horror story because of Bela Lugosi’s presence and the constant threats of sexual violence and torture set against the creepy backdrop of an Egyptian tomb. Fans of adventure stories, however, will notice the beats of that genre as part of the film’s makeup, as well. The set pieces, like the Hindu temple and the slave market, are meant to transport and excite the viewer with their exotic spectacles, and they succeed admirably. The special effects include duplicate versions of Chandu that appear and disappear, guns that change into snakes, ropes that hang in midair, and miniature versions of the boozy sidekick, Miggles (Herbert Mundin), that materialize to taunt him whenever he takes a drink. In between there are plenty of extreme closeup shots of Chandu’s hypnotic eyes and the frozen gazes of his victims.
The performances in the film are a mixed bag, but overall they work well enough to keep the picture interesting. Edmund Lowe, a leading man of the period who had previously played a magician in The Spider (1931), is not really unearthly enough to be credible as a mystic hypnotist, but he looks good in the disguises and has a hearty, masculine presence that works better with the adventure aspect than the supernatural one. Irene Ware puts her beautiful eyes to good use as the love interest, but Virginia Hammond and June Lang (credited as June Vlasek) don’t have a lot to do as the other women except to project the occasional terrified reaction shot. Herbert Mundin has several funny bits as the comic relief, and Henry B. Walthall holds his own as the captive inventor of the death ray, although it’s puzzling why a man with his strong moral convictions would create such a thing in the first place. Bela Lugosi, however, rules the cast with his terrific performance; this is really one of the best places to see him, freed from the distracting makeup and costumes of his more famous roles. In Chandu he looks slim, menacing, and full of sinister energy, and he gets plenty of dialogue to play with, too. He has so much screen presence that the studio got rid of Lowe and cast Lugosi as Chandu in the subsequent films.
For more of William Cameron Menzies’ work in this vein, try Things to Come (1936) or Invaders from Mars (1953). He won two Oscars as an Art Director, for The Dove (1927) and Tempest (1928). Marcel Varnel also directed Oh, Mr. Porter! (1937) and Convict 99 (1938). Give Edmund Lowe another look in Dinner at Eight (1933) and Dillinger (1945). You might recognize Herbert Mundin as Much in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and you’ll find Henry B. Walthall in more than 300 films, including The Birth of a Nation (1915), Wings (1927), and A Tale of Two Cities (1935). For more of Bela Lugosi, start with Dracula (1931) and then move on to Mark of the Vampire (1935), Son of Frankenstein (1939), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), which are just a few of his many memorable screen appearances.
Lowe plays Frank Chandler, better known as Chandu the Magician, a white man who has acquired the mental powers of the Hindu yogi as well as their taste in headgear. Chandu leaves India for Egypt to defend the world and his sister’s family against the maniacal Roxor (Lugosi), who hopes to take over the planet by means of a giant death ray invented by Chandu’s brother-in-law, Robert Regent (Henry B. Walthall). Roxor will stop at nothing to gain knowledge of the ray, and Chandu finds himself, his family, and his lovely friend Princess Nadji (Irene Ware) in constant peril from Roxor’s countless lackeys and spies.
Chandu the Magician plays more or less as a horror story because of Bela Lugosi’s presence and the constant threats of sexual violence and torture set against the creepy backdrop of an Egyptian tomb. Fans of adventure stories, however, will notice the beats of that genre as part of the film’s makeup, as well. The set pieces, like the Hindu temple and the slave market, are meant to transport and excite the viewer with their exotic spectacles, and they succeed admirably. The special effects include duplicate versions of Chandu that appear and disappear, guns that change into snakes, ropes that hang in midair, and miniature versions of the boozy sidekick, Miggles (Herbert Mundin), that materialize to taunt him whenever he takes a drink. In between there are plenty of extreme closeup shots of Chandu’s hypnotic eyes and the frozen gazes of his victims.
The performances in the film are a mixed bag, but overall they work well enough to keep the picture interesting. Edmund Lowe, a leading man of the period who had previously played a magician in The Spider (1931), is not really unearthly enough to be credible as a mystic hypnotist, but he looks good in the disguises and has a hearty, masculine presence that works better with the adventure aspect than the supernatural one. Irene Ware puts her beautiful eyes to good use as the love interest, but Virginia Hammond and June Lang (credited as June Vlasek) don’t have a lot to do as the other women except to project the occasional terrified reaction shot. Herbert Mundin has several funny bits as the comic relief, and Henry B. Walthall holds his own as the captive inventor of the death ray, although it’s puzzling why a man with his strong moral convictions would create such a thing in the first place. Bela Lugosi, however, rules the cast with his terrific performance; this is really one of the best places to see him, freed from the distracting makeup and costumes of his more famous roles. In Chandu he looks slim, menacing, and full of sinister energy, and he gets plenty of dialogue to play with, too. He has so much screen presence that the studio got rid of Lowe and cast Lugosi as Chandu in the subsequent films.
For more of William Cameron Menzies’ work in this vein, try Things to Come (1936) or Invaders from Mars (1953). He won two Oscars as an Art Director, for The Dove (1927) and Tempest (1928). Marcel Varnel also directed Oh, Mr. Porter! (1937) and Convict 99 (1938). Give Edmund Lowe another look in Dinner at Eight (1933) and Dillinger (1945). You might recognize Herbert Mundin as Much in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and you’ll find Henry B. Walthall in more than 300 films, including The Birth of a Nation (1915), Wings (1927), and A Tale of Two Cities (1935). For more of Bela Lugosi, start with Dracula (1931) and then move on to Mark of the Vampire (1935), Son of Frankenstein (1939), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), which are just a few of his many memorable screen appearances.
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