Classic Films in Focus: GIRL CRAZY (1943)

By 1943, Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland had made more than half a dozen movies together, so Girl Crazy (1943) was both a return to a tested formula and an attempt to do something a little different with the two stars. Once again we have the “let’s put on a show” plot that justifies a series of musical numbers, but Rooney and Garland’s characters have more mature parts to play and a more complicated twist to their usual romance. Fans of the two stars will probably like this picture well enough, but Girl Crazy doesn’t come off quite as successfully as their earlier collaborations, largely because of the way the story sets up the main characters and their relationships.

Rooney is Danny Churchill, Jr., a rich man’s son and a playboy who has an eye for the ladies. In order to make something of him, his father ships Danny off to a remote Western college with no female students, but Danny promptly meets the dean’s granddaughter, Ginger (Judy Garland), and tries to impress her. Ginger rebuffs Danny’s advances at first, but eventually she warms up to him, and the two decide to stage a Western rodeo show to save the college from closing.

The sweet, adolescent quality of Rooney and Garland’s romance is a big part of their earlier films’ appeal, but in Girl Crazy Rooney’s character comes off as something of a masher, putting the moves on every girl he sees, and it’s harder to accept him as an adult romantic lead. He looks foolishly out of place, whether partying on stage in his tuxedo or moseying about the desert in his ridiculous cowboy duds. If Ginger has the pick of every handsome man in town, why would she go for the short, overeager Danny? Their love affairs make more sense when the two are childhood friends and sweethearts from the start, as they are in Babes in Arms (1939). Garland’s character is also problematic; Ginger is very much a Ginger Rogers personality, prickly and resistant to romance, which works great in the Fred and Ginger movies but not so much here. Ginger Rogers had, in fact, originated the role in the 1930 Broadway production, and the character was renamed "Ginger" from the original "Molly" in her honor. Once she decides to like Danny, Ginger’s character works better as a Judy Garland role, but she never manages the perfect balance of attraction and repulsion that makes Rogers so much fun in films like Swing Time (1936).

Despite these problems, there are things to like about Girl Crazy. Big band fans will love seeing Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra in several numbers, with Dorsey playing himself as one of Danny’s nightclub friends. Guy Kibbee is lovable as the college dean, and a young Nancy Walker livens up the group as Ginger’s streetwise cousin, Polly. June Allyson makes an early feature film appearance as a specialty singer, and Busby Berkeley directs a particularly lavish Western finale featuring the song, “I’ve Got Rhythm.” Other musical highlights include “Bidin’ My Time” and “Fascinating Rhythm.” Even if she’s not ideally suited to her character, Garland looks and sounds great, and Rooney also gets a fun number in “Could You Use Me.”

Try the earlier Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney films for a chance to see the two stars in their best collaborations, starting with Love Finds Andy Hardy (1938) and Babes in Arms (1939). Garland, of course, is best remembered for The Wizard of Oz (1939), but see some of her later musicals, too, including Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), The Harvey Girls (1946), and Easter Parade (1948). Mickey Rooney, a living legend in 2013, has earned four Oscar nominations and appeared in more than 300 films and television programs, starting with the Mickey McGuire shorts of the late 1920s. Catch him in Little Lord Fauntleroy (1936), A Family Affair (1937), and Captains Courageous (1937) for some of his best adolescent roles. Norman Taurog, who directed everything except the finale, also directed Mickey Rooney in Boys Town (1937), Young Tom Edison (1940), and Men of Boys Town (1941).

Classic Films in Focus: WAIT UNTIL DARK (1967)

Directed by Terence Young, Wait Until Dark (1967) represents a departure for star Audrey Hepburn from the softer, more romantic roles that she usually played. It turned out to be a good move, too, since Hepburn earned her fifth and final Oscar nomination for Best Actress because of her performance as a blind woman terrorized by a trio of devious criminals. Nearly fifty years later, Wait Until Dark remains a very effective thriller largely because Hepburn does such a good job convincing us that she really is desperately afraid and completely unable to see. Her costars, especially Alan Arkin, also make this film a nailbiting affair, and the last ten minutes provide a tense payoff that Warner Bros. publicized with great enthusiasm when the movie was first released.

Hepburn plays Susy Hendrix, who recently lost her sight in a car accident and is learning how to navigate the world as a blind person. Her photographer husband, Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), pushes her to be independent, even though she often feels afraid and longs for more sympathy from him. When Sam unwittingly takes possession of a doll filled with drugs, he makes Susy a target for three ruthless criminals determined to get the doll back. Susy has only herself and a troubled neighbor child, Gloria (Julie Herrod), to help her find the doll and figure out the truth about Mike (Richard Crenna), Carlino (Jack Weston), and the mysterious Mr. Roat (Alan Arkin).

Hepburn’s character has to evolve very quickly in order to survive her encounter with the criminals, and the film shows us some provocative contrasts between the faltering, uncertain Susy of the beginning and the frantic but determined Susy of the climax. She starts the story terrified by the very idea of fire, but she ends it waving a lit match in an apartment covered with gasoline, and she reveals a fierce side of herself that she clearly did not know existed. Hepburn remains fragile, if not hysterical, throughout, but we understand that Susy is a person who really has to search for the courage to fight back against her attackers. She is also a very observant woman, despite her blindness; it’s not so much that her other senses are sharper, but that she has to rely on them more for information about what’s going on around her. Her ability to read those clues gives her a critical advantage over the con men who try to trick her into giving them the doll; they think she’s an easy mark because of her sex and her disability, but she turns out to be a lot more resourceful than they - or we - expect.

Alan Arkin is especially sadistic as Roat, the leader of the criminal trio. His performance makes it clear very early on that Roat has no qualms about murder, and we know better than to think that he will be satisfied to retrieve the doll and leave Susy unharmed, no matter what he says to his two accomplices about nobody getting hurt. Roat relishes Susy’s confusion and panic, which is why he allows the ruse to continue as long as it does. As Mike and Carlino, Richard Crenna and Jack Weston look like Boy Scouts compared to Arkin’s amoral killer; the audience sees them as charlatans but not necessarily as sinister antagonists, and Mike in particular seems ambivalent about the role he plays in deceiving Susy. If there’s a serious fault with the picture, it’s that Mike turns out to be much more attractive and sympathetic than Susy’s husband, Sam, and the chemistry between Crenna and Hepburn is so palpable that we long to see it realized even though we know Susy is already married.

See Audrey Hepburn in her most iconic roles in Roman Holiday (1953), Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), and My Fair Lady (1964) for contrast with her performance in Wait Until Dark. Director Terence Young is also remembered for his work on the James Bond films, Dr. No (1962), From Russia with Love (1963), and Thunderball (1965). Alan Arkin, who is still working in films, won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for Little Miss Sunshine (2006); he recently earned his fourth career Oscar nomination for his performance in Argo (2012). You can find Richard Crenna as Colonel Trautman in all three of the Rambo movies. Frederick Knott, who wrote the original stage play version of Wait Until Dark, also wrote Dial M for Murder, which was adapted as a film by Alfred Hitchcock in 1954.

LEGO My Hitchcock

This is the sort of thing that happens when my two hobbies - classic movies and LEGO - collide. I give you LEGO Tippi Hedren, being terrorized in Alfred Hitchcock's THE BIRDS (1963).

Here's another shot from further out - 

You can visit my photostream over on Flickr if you want to see more of the LEGO photos. I do a lot of this sort of thing. It's a little like art, and a little like therapy.

Classic Films in Focus: THE RETURN OF THE VAMPIRE (1944)

This Columbia production directed by Lew Landers puts Bela Lugosi back into a vampire’s cape and fangs, but The Return of the Vampire (1944) is not exactly a success when it comes to following up on the iconic Dracula (1931). Despite a number of inspired elements, the film fails with its two most visible characters, the vampire and his werewolf lackey, and in a horror film that’s a problem that simply can’t be ignored. Still, Lugosi fans will probably want to see The Return of the Vampire just for more of the actor’s burning eyes and sinister accent, and at just 69 minutes long it’s easy enough to sit through if you can put up with one of classic horror’s worst werewolf attempts.

Lugosi rises from the grave as Armand Tesla, a vampire who is first defeated in 1918 by Dr. Walter Saunders (Gilbert Emery) and Lady Jane Ainsley (Frieda Inescort). Decades later, during the bombing of World War II, Tesla is revived when German shells reveal his coffin. He reclaims his werewolf servant, Andreas (Matt Willis), and sets out for revenge against Lady Jane by threatening her son, John (Roland Varno), and his fiancee, Nicki (Nina Foch).

There are a lot of things to admire in this film, beginning with the progressive casting of a female scientist as the vampire’s opponent. Frieda Inescort is completely credible as the courageous and intelligent Lady Jane, and it’s interesting to note that the story never sexualizes her struggle with Tesla at all. Is she too old or too practical for such ploys? At any rate, the vampiric seduction focuses entirely on the innocent young Nicki, whom Tesla first attacks when she is just a little girl, and lovely Nina Foch has some good scenes wandering about under Tesla’s seductive mind control. The movie also uses the World War II backdrop well, with the vampire hunt complicated by constant bombing and the monsters finding plenty of places to hide in the damaged ruins of the city. The cemetery scenes offer plenty of fog and spooky atmosphere, and the idea of Tesla assuming the identity of a scientist fleeing Nazi Germany is also a timely touch.

The monsters themselves, however, disappoint, especially the lackluster werewolf. We never understand how Tesla transforms Andreas into a werewolf in the first place; who knew that lycanthropy was a result of hypnosis? The makeup for the wolf man lacks originality, and Andreas never manages to be scary, partly because he talks and acts like a regular person in full werewolf form. He’s really just a hairy Renfield, without Dwight Frye’s manic madness. Lugosi doesn’t have much to do as Tesla; he mostly stands in doorways and whispers hypnotically at people from offscreen. In the scenes where he pretends to be Dr. Bruckner, there’s really nothing sinister about him at all, and even rising from his coffin he seems too solid and ordinary to be a terrifying ruler of the undead. Given Lugosi’s performances in other films, the fault here lies with the material he is given, not with the actor himself, but this is certainly not the place to start watching Lugosi’s work.

Lew Landers (as Lewis Friedlander) also directed Bela Lugosi in The Raven (1935); for Lugosi’s more memorable films, see Dracula (1931), White Zombie (1932), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948). You’ll also find the horror icon in smaller roles in Island of Lost Souls (1932), The Wolf Man (1941), and The Body Snatcher (1945). Frieda Inescort appears in Pride and Prejudice (1940), The Letter (1940), and A Place in the Sun (1951). Nina Foch went on to earn an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress for her role in Executive Suite (1954); see more of her in My Name is Julia Ross (1945) and An American in Paris (1951).

Classic Films in Focus: THE LEGEND OF THE 7 GOLDEN VAMPIRES (1974)

The basic idea of this later Hammer production from director Roy Ward Baker is patently ridiculous. The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974) might just as well have been called Kung Fu Dracula, representing as it does a mash-up of the successful Hammer formula and the Hong Kong martial arts genre as realized by the Shaw Brothers. It’s a crazy movie propelled by a crazy concept, but its nuttiness is a large part of its appeal, even if it’s a minor entry in the Hammer canon of vampire films.

Peter Cushing returns to the role of Professor Van Helsing, who has traveled to China in search of Asian vampires. With his son, Leyland (Robin Stewart), and an adventurous, wealthy widow (Julie Ege) in tow, Van Helsing sets off with a family of Chinese warriors to find a remote village plagued by deformed bloodsuckers. Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson) has already found out about this nest of vampires and has taken the form of a Chinese visitor (Shen Chan) in order to take over the undead army of the vampires and their victims. Inevitably, Van Helsing and the warriors must engage in a desperate battle with their demonic adversaries to put a stop to Dracula’s predation.

Christopher Lee is absent in the role of the bloodthirsty count, but it doesn’t really matter since Dracula spends most of the movie disguised as Kah. The plot might just as well have dispensed with Dracula entirely and focused on the unfamiliar and more promising territory of the Chinese vampires, who are markedly different in appearance and behavior from their European cousin. Van Helsing shows some interest in the cultural variations between Eastern and Western vampires, and we do see that the Buddha works just as well as the Christian cross when it comes to holy symbols. Unfortunately, we don’t learn nearly enough about the Chinese vampires. The undead attackers might be hopping vampires, but the film doesn’t bother to discuss them or their unique place in vampire mythology. It’s a shame, too, because the different vampires help to distinguish this installment from the stale retreads of the same old formula that Hammer had been using for far too long.

On the plus side, we have Cushing still playing Van Helsing with conviction and gravitas, looking very elegant in his tailored suits and adventure gear. Hammer gets to put quite a bit of female bosom on display and kill off a large cast of supporting characters in an orgy of gory excess, both elements that endear the studio to its many fans. The kung fu scenes are great fun, with David Chiang and Szu Shih both giving especially energetic performances. The movie also takes a decidedly liberal attitude toward interracial romance, and the location shooting in Hong Kong freshens up the whole atmosphere. These are sufficient attractions to keep Hammer devotees entertained throughout, especially if they’re also fond of the iconic kung fu pictures produced by the Shaw Brothers during their long and glorious career.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires is by no means the best of the Hammer pictures, but if you find the premise entertaining you'll enjoy the film. Roy Ward Baker also directed Moon Zero Two (1969), The Vampire Lovers (1970), and Scars of Dracula (1970). For other Van Helsing performances from Peter Cushing, see Horror of Dracula (1958), The Brides of Dracula (1960), and Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). See kung fu classics from the Shaw Brothers like Five Fingers of Death (1972), Shaolin Temple (1976), and The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (1978) to get a better feel for the genre and its style.

Classic Films in Focus: BE YOURSELF! (1930)

In 1969, Barbra Streisand won an Oscar for playing Fanny Brice in Funny Girl (1968), but that performance is probably the only encounter most modern viewers have with the Jewish comedienne, who became a star with the Ziegfeld Follies and was also known for her radio performances as Baby Snooks. Brice was not primarily a film actress. She made fewer than half a dozen notable screen appearances, which is too bad because she’s awfully fun to watch in Be Yourself! (1930), a minor comedy-drama that is worth seeing largely because of Brice’s comedic talent.

Brice (credited as Fannie rather than Fanny) plays Fannie Field, a nightclub performer who develops an affection for promising boxer Jerry (Robert Armstrong). Along with her lawyer brother, Harry (Harry Green), Fannie trains and manages Jerry until he becomes a big success, but her romance with him hits the skids when a predatory rival (Gertrude Astor) puts the moves on the gullible lug.

Be Yourself! is primarily a musical comedy, with Brice performing a number of songs that highlight her humorous bent. Her opera parody is funny stuff, but the highlight of the picture is Brice’s loony take on a swan ballet, in which the graceful conceit of a woman impersonating a dying bird gets turned on its head. Brice also excels at delivering one-liners and rolling her eyes to great effect, and she revels in stereotypically Jewish exchanges with Harry Green. Their constant kvetching, carried on with affection for each other and for Jewish identity, is another memorable aspect of the film.

Brice also has a chance to show her more serious side, especially in her moving and heartfelt performance of “When a Woman Loves a Man.” The song echoes the tone of Brice’s signature song, “My Man,” and Brice delivers both with great pathos. She also invests her character with dramatic feeling when Jerry jilts her for the gold digging Lil, although being a smart cookie Fannie soon cooks up a plan to win him back for good. Robert Armstrong plays Jerry as such a goofy palooka that we never know exactly what it is that Fannie sees in him, but having picked him she sticks faithfully, even when Lil lures him away.

Thornton Freeland, who directed Be Yourself!, also directed They Call It Sin (1932), Flying Down to Rio (1933), and Jericho (1937). For more of Fanny Brice on film, see The Great Ziegfeld (1936) and Everybody Sing (1938). Prolific supporting player Robert Armstrong is best remembered today for his roles in The Most Dangerous Game (1932), King Kong (1933), and Son of Kong (1933).

You can see Be Yourself! on Netflix Instant or on Amazon Prime Instant Video.

Classic Films in Focus: BABES IN ARMS (1939)

The Busby Berkeley musical Babes in Arms (1939) proved an important moment in Mickey Rooney’s career; his role as showbiz hopeful Mickey Moran earned him his first Oscar nomination for Best Actor, in a year when the competition included Clark Gable for Gone with the Wind, Laurence Olivier for Wuthering Heights, and Jimmy Stewart for Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. They would all lose to Robert Donat for Goodbye, Mr. Chips, but the nomination put Rooney at the top of Hollywood’s list of leading men when he was still a teenager. It was also his first musical with Judy Garland as his leading lady; the two had appeared in films together before, but the new formula would be a big enough hit to inspire a whole series of Garland and Rooney musicals. Today, Babes in Arms shows its age, especially in some of its vaudeville numbers, but it still offers plenty to interest fans of its two young stars.

Rooney stars as Michael “Mickey” Moran, a child of vaudeville performers who have fallen on hard times with the rise of the talkies. Along with his girlfriend, Patsy (Judy Garland), his sister, Molly (Betty Jaynes), and their pal, Don (Douglas McPhail), Mickey hopes to turn things around for the older entertainers by staging a new show with the other kids. There’s a lot riding on their success, since meddlesome Miss Steele (Margaret Hamilton) is trying to have all of the youngsters sent away to learn trades at a state work school. The assistance of former child star Baby Rosalie (June Preisser) might save the show, but only if it doesn’t ruin Mickey and Patsy’s relationship.

Rooney is more a comedian than a singer, but he gets plenty of opportunities to exercise his usual energetic humor, and his impressions of Clark Gable and Lionel Barrymore are especially funny. Garland looks achingly young, even more so than she does in her better known film from that year, The Wizard of Oz. The two share a sweet, innocent chemistry that justifies their frequent pairings, and both of them carry their more dramatic scenes effectively. They get ample support from older actors like Charles Winninger, Guy Kibbee, Margaret Hamilton, and Henry Hull, but June Preisser proves a real scene-stealer as Baby Rosalie, a Shirley Temple type whose precious act has grown stale with adolescence. Preisser also does some jaw-dropping acrobatics that you have to see to believe; it’s worth noting that Preisser, Rooney, and Garland had all been vaudeville performers in real life before they made the jump to films.

The songs in Babes in Arms cover a lot of territory, although viewers will recognize several of them from their use in the later classic, Singin’ in the Rain (1952). Busby Berkeley directs most of the numbers with great restraint considering his penchant for dizzy spectacle, but he does provide a more traditional Berkeley treatment for the finale of “God’s Country.” The number that will give most viewers pause is the minstrel sequence, done with the entire group of youngsters, including Rooney and Garland, in full blackface. Despite its attempt to pay tribute to the vaudeville convention, the number is sure to make modern audiences profoundly uncomfortable, if not outraged, by its use of the most noxious racial stereotypes. Fortunately, the performance gets cut short by a plot point, but it goes on much too long for anyone watching it today. Be prepared to have a thoughtful discussion about the history of blackface in Hollywood if you watch this picture with the family.

Babes in Arms also earned an Oscar nomination for Best Music Scoring. For more of Rooney and Garland’s musicals, see Strike Up the Band (1940), Babes on Broadway (1941), and Girl Crazy (1943). Busby Berkeley is best remembered for gloriously surreal musical productions in 42nd Street (1933), Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), and Footlight Parade (1933). June Preisser also appears in Strike Up the Band and with Rooney in two of the Andy Hardy films. Groomed as the next Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy, neither Betty Jaynes nor Douglas McPhail ever became stars, but they were actually married to one another from 1938-1941, which casts an interesting light on their performance as sweethearts in Babes in Arms.