Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? A Review

WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Elizabeth Taylor.

Among their other sobriquets, the acting couple of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor were known as The Battling Burtons, boozing and brawling their way through nine films and several headlines. Sometimes, their public personas and domestic squabbles could be played for laughs, like in The Taming of the Shrew. Other times, they were played for frightening drama. Such is the case with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? as dark a tale of domestic strife as has been committed to film.

Over the course of an evening, associate history professor George (Burton) and his wife, Martha (Taylor) host a new couple at their home for lots of drinks. Biology professor Nick (George Segal) is young and handsome. His wife Honey (Sandy Dennis) is mousy and scatterbrained. Even though it is already in the early morning hours, George and Martha keep insisting that Nick and Honey continue their midnight caps.

Martha, daughter of the university president, is a harpy to her henpecked husband. They take turns expressing love and hate toward the other in equal measure. Honey cannot handle liquor, leading to her becoming ill. In the midst of all this, Martha mentions her and George's son, who is about to turn 16. The mention of their son unleashes a very strange anger from George. Nick and Honey have no children, though Nick married Honey when he thought she was pregnant, but which turned out to be a hysterical pregnancy.

As everyone keeps drinking and fighting, with bits of affection slipping through, the foursome eventually ends up at a roadhouse where secrets are revealed. Here, Martha declares total war on George. These wicked games of "Humiliate the Host" are followed up by such horrors as "Get the Guests" and "Hump the Hostess". It may be dawning, but for one of our gruesome couples, the son will set to heartbreaking results. Who is afraid of Virginia Woolf? The answer is a deeply tragic one.

An evening with George and Martha is like entering the twentieth circle of Hell. These two figures, vicious and cruel to everyone around them, at first appall us with their insults and anger. As Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? continues, we start seeing something different. Behind their backbiting and barbs are two very hurt, pained people. It is a strange coupling in that they would appear to hate and resent each other. Yet, while George and Martha are nasty towards each other, they are also holding on to the other for dear life. One senses that life has made them bitter, the optimism of their early years sapped into a mix of resentments, recriminations and resignation about where they are. 

Despite all that they do to the other, we end up feeling great sadness for them. George and Martha may at times physically assault the other. Yet, they also reveal that behind their outward animosity and anger is still a spark of genuine love. That makes it all the more tragic.

The entire credited cast (Burton, Taylor, Seagal and Dennis) received Oscar nominations for Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? The Academy favored the women as Taylor and Dennis emerged victorious that year. Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is in my view Elizabeth Taylor's finest hour as an actress. She deglamorized herself here, looking disheveled and bordering on the brink of total chaos. Taylor shifts throughout the film perfectly. In the beginning, she is tough, belligerent, a mouthy broad who seems to take delight in bashing her seemingly weak husband. As the film progresses, she takes on a mix of defiance and defensiveness. "I'm loud, and I'm vulgar, and I wear the pants in the house because somebody's got to, but I am NOT a monster," she proclaims to George. It is as if despite her vulgarity and cruelty, Martha is also desperate for love and kindness.

When the film reaches its climax and we learn the truth about George and Martha's son, Martha's emotional collapse is extremely heartbreaking to witness. Elizabeth Taylor will move the viewer in her role. It is a painful thing to see, Martha losing the one thing that has given her a sense of joy. It is sad, so terribly sad. Despite her earlier claims, she cannot stand it. As dawn rises, we see Martha fall, the pain and loss she now has making us tear up for her. That mix of cruelty and bravado comes undone, and Taylor makes us sympathize with someone who has done so much to hurt and humiliate George.

Dennis, winning for Supporting Actress, makes Honey into this wimpy, dim figure, easily pushed into agreeing to things that did not happen. She is almost crazed as Honey, indulging in irrationality but also deeply vulnerable and hurt.

While Richard Burton did not win Best Actor, one of his seven eventual losses, he is brilliant as George. Martha calls him a flop and a simp (long before the term became more common). Yet, behind his facade of intellectual wimp is someone who is as cruel if not crueler than Martha. Burton makes George into an eerily calm figure, calculating at times, aware of how he can hurt others. He has a wonderful monologue where he talks about a childhood classmate who killed both his parents on separate occasions. It is a spooky scene, acted with quite foreboding. George is at times self-pitying, but he is also lashing out at the frustrations of his life to painful ends.

George Segal, to my mind, is the weak link in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? It is not that he gave a bad performance. His scene with Burton when he reveals more than he should about his life pre-and-post Honey along with his idea of literally sleeping his way to the top is good. It is just that to me, Segal does not have the looks or build that I imagine that the seductive Nick should have. Nick is supposed to be 28, but Segal looks older than his 32 years. 

Everything in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? works. It is a surprise that this is the directorial film debut for Mike Nichols. He got excellent performances out of his cast. I would say that Nichols directed each actor to what I think are their definitive performances. He also made all the other elements of the film work. There is Alex North's score, which is elegant and mournful. Sam O'Steen's editing was top-notch, particularly the transition from when George slams the breaks on the car to Honey's wild interpretive dance. Haskell Wexler's cinematography gave us this stark world. The highlight here is when George and Martha declare total war on each other, the streetlights making them look as if they were in some living nightmare. Ernest Lehman's adaptation of Edward Albee's play manages to open up the story just enough without it looking like a filmed play. 

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? goes from a horror show to a deep tragedy. It has brilliant performances from the cast. It flows smoothly and never lags throughout its two-hour-plus runtime. At the end of the film, we find out the answer to the question, "Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?" (the title coming from a play on the song "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" and writer Virginia Woolf). The answer is again, a heartbreaking one. 

DECISION: A+

Libeled Lady: A Review (Review #1831)

 

LIBELED LADY

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is William Powell.

Robert Osborne once observed that modern comedies had no wit. If memory serves right, I think he was fond of Libeled Lady, which has a great deal of wit. Libeled Lady is a brilliant screwball comedy, a film that is amusing and logical even if the situations are outlandish. Ably acted and directed, Libeled Lady is a jewel in cinema.

New York Evening Star editor Warren Haggerty (Spencer Tracy) is not eager to marry Gladys Beaton (Jean Harlow) even though he loves her. Having already delayed their wedding twice, he is set to go through with it until the paper faces a crisis. It ran a false story about wealthy heiress Connie Allenbury (Myrna Loy) accusing her of being a homewrecker. The story is easily proven false, but a few copies managed to slip out before they can be recalled. Connie and her father, wealthy tycoon James Allenbury (Walter Connolly) cooly inform the Evening Star that they will sue the paper for $5 million.

Why so much? Well, the Evening Star and Allenbury have been at loggerheads for quite some time, and this libelous story is the perfect weapon for both Allenburys to use against them. How will Warren and the Evening Star get out of this jam? They turn to Bill Chandler (William Powell), a newspaper man whose gotten them out of jams before but with whom they had a falling out years ago. Warren swallows his pride and turns to his frenemy for help. Bill quickly comes up with a solution: make the story true. He will quickly marry someone, then get Connie in a compromising position where the fake wife will reveal herself. Where, however, will they find a wife in a hurry?

Over her loud objections, poor Gladys finds herself roped into this scheme. Bill sets his plan in motion and at first Connie gets his number. However, he soon starts working his charms and she falls in love with him. Problem is that Bill falls in love with Connie too. Now working to have his cake and eat it too, Bill has to find a way to satisfy both sides. He seems to eventually find the solution that pleases everyone, everyone except Gladys, who has also fallen in love with Bill. Gladys however proves that she is no dumb blonde, having a few tricks up her own sleeve, leaving everything in total chaos.

A great screwball comedy has a logic to its plot even if the plot itself is outlandish. Libeled Lady has that thanks to Maurine Watkins, Howard Emmett Rogers and George Oppenheimer's screenplay. The idea that they would force a fake story to be true by dragging someone like Gladys into this scheme is pretty wild. However, it works because Libeled Lady takes the time to build up the situation and show how we arrived at things. It goes from Point A to Point B in a straightforward manner even though the general idea is bonkers.

It is because of the screenplay that people can say things that on their own sound irrational but within the context of the story are perfectly sensible. After explaining that Bill's marriage to Gladys will be only temporary and they will divorce quickly, an exasperated Gladys states, "But I don't want a divorce! I want to get married and stay married!". On the surface, this statement would not make any sense. However, as Libeled Lady set up the premise, it is a perfectly logical thing to say. 

Late in the film, Warren is enraged to find that Bill is trying to play both sides as well as having Gladys fall for him. Someone points out correctly that Gladys is Bill's wife. "She may be his wife, but she's engaged to me!" Warren bellows. Again, this line seems totally irrational, even daring. However, as we have known what the situation actually is, it is perfectly sound.

The wit in Libeled Lady extends beyond the premise to some of the lines themselves. "Where did you go when you left us, Bill?" Warren asks. "The intelligence department, Warren" is Bill's reply. "I always did like the contrast". The pun in "intelligence department" is obvious and clever. When Bill and Connie present themselves to a justice of the peace for a quicky wedding, the justice of the peace's wife asks if they are sober. Connie assures us that they are. "This is love, not liquor" the patrician Connie states.

As part of the plot, Gladys herself is supposed to be divorced from a Joe Simpson. Near the end of Libeled Lady, she is referred to as "Mrs. Simpson". In 1936, another "Mrs. Simpson" by the name of Wallis was causing headlines and scandals all over the world. Whether this was intentional or coincidental I cannot say, though the opening disclaimer that any resemblance to anyone living or dead to Libeled Lady is purely coincidental suggest that maybe it was not.

Libeled Lady is exceptionally well-acted by everyone involved. William Powell is perfect as this charming scoundrel reformed by love. With just a raised eyebrow, Powell tells you whether he is contemptuous or amused by the situation. Powell can handle not just the rat-a-tat manner of screwball dialogue while looking elegant doing so. He also manages great physical comedy. His scene as he struggles with an out-of-control fish during a fishing trip is absolutely hilarious.

This is another teaming of William Powell and Myrna Loy, among the greatest screen duos of all time. Loy is charming and beautiful as Connie, but she also makes her a bright woman. Loy's Connie is dubious of Bill, figuring he has an angle. She has a great moment of silent acting when she shows her clear frustration and boredom while Bill and Mr. Allensbury discuss the joys of trout fishing. She also has tender moments, such as when admitting to Bill that she was wrong about him. Technically, she wasn't, but she was unaware of it.

One does not usually associate Spencer Tracy with screwball, but here it works. He's gruff and flustered, but he also is able to keep up with the rapid-fire delivery and wacky situations. For me, Jean Harlow is a major standout. From her first scene, where she storms into the Evening Star office in her elaborate wedding gown, Harlow dominates her scenes. She is no dumb blonde, merely a put-upon one, forever at the mercy of the men playing her for a fool. She works well with everyone: having a woman-to-woman talk with Loy, sparring against Tracy and Powell, even biting Powell at one point. 

In real life, Powell and Harlow were romantically involved during Libeled Lady. While they never married in real life (Harlow tragically dying a year later at 26), it is nice to see them get a wedding scene.  

Libeled Lady is surprisingly daring for the time. You have strong and overt suggestions of bigamy that remain unresolved by the end. You have the attempted framing of a woman's reputation. The whole situation is pretty wild. However, director Jack Conway moves things briskly, and the film has a strong sense of logic amid the wild goings-on. 

Libeled Lady is a delight from start to finish. Hilarious and romantic, well-acted, well-directed and well-written, it is one of the best films in the filmography of everyone involved. 

DECISION: A+

The Comedians: A Review (Review #1625)

 

THE COMEDIANS

This review is for the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Elizabeth Taylor.

Haiti is a long-suffering nation. Poverty, crime, a long history of unstable governments and stable dictatorships. The most infamous Haitian dictatorship was that of Francois Duvalier, better known as "Papa Doc". The Comedians, a film set during the early period of Duvalier's reign, is not exactly using the Voodoo-tinted country as backdrop to a story of extramarital liaisons. It however is a slog to sit through, with unintentionally funny moments popping out amidst the Creole chaos.

Hotel owner Brown (Richard Burton) wants to dump the Port-au-Prince resort his late mother dumped on him. He, however, finds no buyers and few guests shortly after Papa Doc comes to power. The only guests are Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Paul Ford and Lilian Gish), who once ran for President under the Vegetarian Party ticket. They've come to set up a vegetarian farm, hoping to create a vegan paradise in Haiti.

Also coming is Major H.O. Jones (Alec Guinness), who has lucrative Haitian contacts for military gear. Unfortunately, changes in leadership put him in prison. Major Jones is sprung thanks to the little cache and cash Smith and Brown have. Jones isn't out of danger, but Brown has greater issues on his mind.

There's the dead government official in the empty hotel pool. Add to that the machinations of a planned rebellion against Duvalier by Brown's friend Dr. Magiot (James Earl Jones) and the minister's poet son Henri Philipot (Georg Stanford Brown), who has embraced the Voodoo. By this time Jones is out of prison and currying favor with Captain Concasseur (Raymond St. Jacques), a major figure with Duvalier's henchmen, the Tonton Macoute. 

The biggest issue on his mind is Martha Pineda (Elizabeth Taylor), the German-born wife of a South American ambassador, Manuel (Peter Ustinov). She is his mistress, but both struggle with their affair. With Haiti closing in on a more vicious dictatorship, not all of them will live to leave the haunted island.

The Comedians, made a decade after Duvalier came to power, is the only film I know of that tackles the Papa Doc Duvalier era. It should not be a surprise that the actual Haitians play a secondary role. Perhaps given that The Comedians is part of the Burton-Taylor catalog, the focus on the troubled love affair between Brown and Martha would take precedence over the human rights violations of the Duvalier pere era. 

The Comedians suffers from a certain misplaced level of seriousness that ends up making things hilarious. Already the thought of the pacifist Vegetarian Party candidate having enough sway to visit Jones is odd. However, the sight of Lilian Gish facing down and talking back to the Tonton Macoute while dressed like she had wandered off the set of The Napping House film adaptation makes things uproarious.

This, however, does not compare to what is the ghastliest moment in The Comedians. While the film takes pains to explain the situation, the sight of Alec Guinness in both blackface and in drag, attempting to pass himself off as a large black woman is more horrifying than anything else. Even by 1967 standards, Obi-Wan Kenobi trying to pass himself off as Mammy is beyond tawdry or insulting.

A major problem in The Comedians is the casting. The sight and sound of the very British Peter Ustinov as a South American diplomat is, granted, not as horrifying as Guinness in his blackface drag act. However, his British tones were clearly audible, making the idea that his first language is Spanish laughable. 

He, at least, was one of the better performances in The Comedians. Gish, judging from her performance, was supposed to be daft and daffy, waxing rhapsodic about the benefits of vegetables. If so, then I cut her some slack. Guinness too did better as the extremely chipper Jones, whom one suspects is not what he claims to be. The quip about Lawrence of Arabia was amusing though.

It is in our great lovers that The Comedians flounders. Taylor's accent shifted all over the place. One moment she sounded British, another American, and then we learn her character is German, but that Teutonic accent shifted too. The accent only underlies the overwrought manner to her acting, sometimes bored, sometimes overblown. What is meant as a great romance looks like two people bored with each other.

Burton does himself no favors when playing at romance, though I thought he was better when against anyone other than La Liz. However, he too seemed to be slumming his way through The Comedians, sometimes looking half-asleep. Perhaps he was hit with a zombie curse by Papa Doc?

I think director Peter Glenville was more interested in showing off the odd transitions from one scene to the next (for example, shifting from lifting a corpse to having a body jump into a pool, or from a scene of a character about to scream out to seeing another joyfully say "Welcome to Haiti"). If he did care about the performances, they were from the small group of future notables playing Haitians.

James Earl Jones did much better as the doomed Dr. Magriot where his end is shocking, even if he too seemed more quiet than necessary. Georg Sanford Brown's rebel leader is also strong, particularly when he abandons his Western ways to embrace the Voodoo. Roscoe Lee Brown as suave journalist Petit Pierre also stole the scene from anyone he was with.

The highlight was St. Jacques as the villainous Captain Concasseur, cool but delighting in his murderous ways.

I think it was a mistake to have Graham Greene adapt his own novel. It is a case of the author loving his work too much, giving the characters rather grand things to say that end up sounding silly. That is hard enough to hear, but the notion that Richard Burton would truly believe Alec Guinness was schtupping Elizabeth Taylor is laughable, made more so by Burton's performance.

I think The Comedians is worth watching for the secondary actors, like Jones, Brown and Browne and Cicely Tyson in an early role of a prostitute. Apart from them and Laurence Rosenthal's score, there is nothing particularly good in the film. The Comedians does in the end up funny, though for all the wrong reasons. 

DECISION: D-

Blossoms in the Dust: A Review (Review #1594)

 

BLOSSOMS IN THE DUST

Biopics are hard enough when the film covers a famous person, let alone a more obscure subject. Blossoms in the Dust not only opts to tells the story of a lesser-known figure, but one who was very much alive when the film was released. Remembered now more for being the first screen pairing of one of the Great Duos, Blossoms in the Dust is respectable, even moving, albeit a touch manipulative.

Edna (Greer Garson), engaged to one man, is swept away by the passionate ardor of Texan Sam Gladney (Walter Pidgeon), whom she marries. Her adopted sister Charlotte (Marsha Hunt), however, cannot marry the man she loves. She is a "foundling", and her potential in-laws won't agree for their son to marry someone of illegitimate birth. The shame causes a suicide, one that haunts Edna.

Also haunting Edna is the loss of her own child. Edna does the best she can, and sees that too many children are starting out life in poor circumstances through no fault of their own. Stigmatized due to the word "Illegitimate" on their birth certificate, Edna sees how foundlings are shamed through life. She also sees the difficulties of widowed and working parents who, despite loving their children, cannot fully provide for them. With her usual can-do attitude, she decides to change the Texas law that marks a child's background. Despite opposition from those fearing out-of-wedlock births will explode and her own personal tragedies, Edna Gladney changes the world for the better.

Make no mistake about this: Blossoms in the Dust is a starring vehicle for Greer Garson, and she goes all-in with her performance. When she boldly stands up in the Texas legislature chamber and makes her embolden cry, "There are no illegitimate children. There are only illegitimate parents!", it is someone determined to almost devour the screen. To be fair, this is meant as a big moment, and thus I can grant a little leeway here.

I am also slightly amused that, despite being from Wisconsin and living in Texas all those years, the Edna Gladney that Greer Garson portrays speaks with a strong British inflection. I doubt anyone really thought much that this Midwesterner sounded more like Downton Abbey than Green Bay Packer. We can also ignore how despite the years, Edna never ages, making her youthful scenes slightly ridiculous.

All that being said, I was won over by Greer Garson's performance. There is a steel resolve under her velvet glove, a woman who sees a wrong and is moved to work to change it. Blossoms in the Dust does give her motivations that did not really exist (there was no adopted sister and Gladney never had any children of her own), but these bits help shape her motivation. At times, Garson was a bit theatrical, but she kept my attention throughout.

Other elements, such as how glamorous she looked despite allegedly giving birth, are more the MGM shine to their stars than Garson's fault. 

Blossoms in the Dust was also the first time Garson was paired with Walter Pidgeon, starting their collaboration that totaled eight films. While perhaps not as well-remembered as the pairing of William Powell & Myrna Loy or Spencer Tracy & Katharine Hepburn, Pidgeon & Garson made an excellent team. Her elegant and refined manner and his dignified but slightly more casual one blended well. As Sam, Pidgeon was as convincing a Texan as any Canadian. 

However, he had a slightly impish charm as Sam, someone who had a great optimism and love for Edna. Sam was not going to be down, even when things look bleak.

Other roles, such as Hunt as the tragic Charlotte and Felix Bressart as the slightly dotty but quite wise Dr. Max Blessar, add to the feel of dignity in Edna Gladney's story.

Blossoms in the Dust allows for moments of gentle humor in what could have been a more serious, even somber tale. There's a running gag about an ugly vase that ends up almost touching, and the film does well in moving things forward via montages. The film also has Oscar-winning sets that give character insight, such as having grey tones throughout when the Gladneys are facing deep financial difficulties.

A surprising element in the film is how it does not discriminate when it comes to race. In a recitation of orphans to persuade a prospective father, Edna lists not just Andrew and Stonewall Jackson but also Booker T. Washington, all their faces prominently displayed on the walls. There is also a brief scene where she delights her black servant Zeke (Clinton Rosemond) by bringing two black babies to her orphanage. Granted, some moments here are not as forward as one would like, such as how Zeke and their maid Cleo (Theresa Harris) still speak in a certain dialect. However, noting that Gladney did not discriminate is a step in the right direction.

In many ways, Blossoms in the Dust is a bit theatrical and surprisingly fictional. Characters are invented, events shown do not happen. However, you end up admiring and respecting Edna Gladney, seeing a heroine who took action. She showed that one person, armed only with a firm conviction and determination, can affect change. Edna Gladney's story is one that should be better-known. It might be time for a remake, one that hopefully would be more historically accurate while still inspiring others to make positive changes for others.

1886-1961

DECISION: B-

The Sandpiper: A Review

THE SANDPIPER

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon sponsored by Journeys in Classic Film. Today's star is Eva Marie Saint.

If The Sandpiper is remembered at all, it is due to two reasons: it is the third film teaming of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton and its love theme, the Oscar-winning The Shadow of Your Smile. Apart from that The Sandpiper is not particularly good but it is mildly entertaining.

Free spirited bohemian artist Laura* Reynolds (Taylor) is forced to place her illegitimate son Danny (Morgan Mason) in an Episcopalian boarding school near her Big Sur home. The school's director Dr. Edward Hewitt (Burton) is stern but not unkind. Despite Laura's overwrought fears Danny does adjust well, thanks to both Dr. and Mrs. Claire Hewitt (Eva Marie Saint).

Dr. Hewitt is quickly drawn to the outspoken atheist Reynolds and soon a passionate affair begins, with each questioning their worldviews (his on his myriad of sins, hers on marriage and the possibility of true love). However, eventually the affair is found out by the community. Hewitt finds he has been compromising so long financially (such as letting poor students slide if their parents kept checks rolling in) that despite his wife's forgiveness for his liaison he knows he cannot stay. 

Laura for her part sees that Danny is free himself to make his own choices, and he chooses to stay at the school. The lovers make a quiet farewell, each remembering "the shadow of your smile".

The Sandpiper, for better or worse, lays the symbolism of the actual sandpiper far too thick to where it almost slips into farce. Early in the film, Laura finds an injured sandpiper and nurses it back to health. In keeping with her free spirited worldview, she tells the somewhat dour Episcopalian that he (the bird) has to be free to roam.

The subtext is anything but, and while one can roll with symbolism one thinks that The Sandpiper could have restrained itself just a touch.

In certain ways, The Sandpiper is almost a bit hilarious. The "bohemians" and "free spirits" that Laura surrounds herself with now come across as either almost rather square or exaggerated figures. In any case, each of these avant-garde artistes look at least twenty years too old to be believable bohemians. 

Performance-wise, you don't watch The Sandpiper for them. Burton and Taylor are not "acting". They are "being", but that is not a compliment or insult. Taylor seems almost determined to be hysterical in every sense of the word, coming across as less an earthy, passionate woman and more an annoying scold. Burton has only his baritone to act with (and as a side note, I don't know why this was such an existentialist crisis as I find that Episcopalians are essentially churchgoing atheists, but there it is).

Still, it is always a treat to see them together. They have a quiet magnetism together, making it hard to look away from this most glamorous and conflicted pair.

Eva Marie Saint does not have a big enough role as the wronged wife, but she is effective, particularly with Mason in their scene together. A surprising turn in that of Charles Bronson as Cos, the overtly antagonistic sculptor who needles Hewitt to the point where even Lisa says he's out of line. It's nice to see Bronson do something unexpected even if it is a bit curious.

If anything really lifts The Sandpiper, it is two elements. First is the beautiful location, as the film showcases Big Sur, California in beautiful scenery. Second, it is Johnny Mandel's jazz-tinted score, including the closing theme The Shadow of Your Smile. Mandel and lyricist Paul Francis Webster would go on to win Best Original Song for The Shadow of Your Smile, which plays in an instrumental version throughout The Sandpiper. 

The scenery and music are both quite beautiful, and The Shadow of Your Smile is certainly worthy of its win. Apart from that though The Sandpiper is not a particularly great movie but it is something to watch on a quiet Sunday afternoon for the pairing of one of the great screen duos in the most lush of surroundings. The Sandpiper does not ask much from Burton and Taylor other than to be Burton and Taylor, but that is enough in this case. 

*The original post had Elizabeth Taylor's character's name as "Lisa". It has been updated to the correct name of "Laura". 

DECISION: C+

Doctor Faustus: A Review (Review #1201)

DOCTOR FAUSTUS

Doctor Faustus is not just a film version of a successful play its star, Richard Burton, had starred in. It is the only film Burton directed, or rather co-directed with Nevill Coghill. Doctor Faustus is a cautionary tale of hubris, and the film is a cautionary tale too of a bad production done in by pseudo-artistic pretensions.

Doctor Faustus (Burton) an esteemed educator and scholar, has achieved the apex of human wisdom. Now he seeks greater knowledge, as well as power, riches and his own earthly delights. Now having degenerated into practicing the dark arts, he summons the demon Mephistopheles (Andreas Teuber) from Hell to be his personal slave. Mephistopheles tells Faustus he is already serving Lucifer himself and can only serve Faustus if the Devil himself permits it.

Faustus will not be denied and agrees, despite hearing the Voice of the Good Angel to turn away from his blasphemy, to surrender his soul to Lucifer in exchange for Mephistopheles' services, granting him every wish and power. Faustus signs away his soul with his own blood, and now Faustus sees the personification of the Seven Deadly Sins, plays parlor games with The Emperor (Ian Marter) and tricks on The Pope's Court. He also sees the beautiful Helen of Troy (Elizabeth Taylor), beckoning him into temptations of the flesh.

Every so often Faustus comes close to repenting and turning to Christ for redemption, but that only angers Lucifer who holds him to his pledge. Moreover, Faustus keeps coming back to his own thoughts, which are not built on divine but earthly things. Eventually, his twenty-four years are up and despite his faint pleas Helen drags him to Hell.

As Doctor Faustus came from a stage production, Burton and Coghill opted to keep many of the stage trappings. They also opted to keep the Oxford University Dramatic Society players that were part of the original Oxford production.The term 'amateur theatrics' was pretty much created for such things, and seeing the still-training actors attempt to match Burton's almost self-parody is not a good way to begin. The acting from all but one seems to be quite theatrical as to almost be farcical.

Burton does himself no favors with his performance. I imagine that on stage, where one can be broader and louder with not much fussy, his Faustus would have been a bang-up job. On screen though, he looks in turns bored and hysterical in every meaning of the word. Sometimes the Burtonesque qualities that would make for dynamic or at least entertaining staging becomes a bit bizarre on film.

As he ponders what he would accomplish if he had ultimate power and wealth, he says he would "ransack the ocean for pearls". Only thing is, his pronunciation of 'ocean' is 'oh-SEH-ahn', which comes across as, well, bonkers.

The ever-lovely Liz is mute in Doctor Faustus, the most action she has is to beckon the bad doctor apparently in the nude. Her one sound is a cackle as she leads him to Hell, and here the whole scene is hilarious: Burton's wild hysterics, Taylor's glances, the scenery, cinematography and music all conspiring to make this sad.

Only Teuber as Mephistopheles shows anything of promise. In his quiet yet creepy manner, he makes Mephistopheles the more sympathetic character, the demon who knows that Hell is a place of misery and torment because of the absence of God.

The visuals also are interesting in a bad way in Doctor Faustus in that they call attention to themselves. Sometimes the decisions Burton and Coghill made seem quite strange: the gauze in some scenes, the glowing skull, the Garden of the Seven Deadly Sins being so insufferably artsy. Same goes for the 'comedy' at the Pope's Court, complete with choreographed dancing that seems to mock Catholic ritual but fail to provide any genuine wit to things.

Perhaps Doctor Faustus' greatest sin is that we do not get an interesting or complex lead character. Whatever internal struggle within Faustus, whatever sense of guilt or pleasure he had isn't there. He is nothing, and his fall is just a series of sets and scenes that have nothing going for them.

If there are one or two qualities in Doctor Faustus it is in Mario Nascimbene's score (even if at times it becomes intrusive) and some wit in the screenplay, though I suspect that was from the original material. "Nay, and tell me what good will my soul do thy lord?", Faustus asks his potential slave. "Enlarge his kingdom," Mephistopheles answers calmly. "Is that the reason why he tempts us thus?", Burton thunders. "Wretches find comfort in fellow suffers," is Teuber's calm reply.

Doctor Faustus is worth watching only if you want to see how late-era Richard Burton would have been on the stage. It's almost a game to see how this production would have matched the Oxford stage version. Apart from that it is not worth seeing.

Beelzebub, part of Lucifer's unholy trinity, admonishes Faustus from attempting to return to the path of redemption. "Remember, Faustus, sweet pleasure conquers deep despair. In Hell is all manner of delight". I know this to be not true, for sitting through Doctor Faustus would be Hell and there is no manner of delight there.

DECISION: D+

The Adventures of Robin Hood: A Review

THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD

Was there ever a more glorious, more joyful film than The Adventures of Robin Hood? There is such delight in it, such an unapologetic sense of adventure, romance and more importantly, just fun in the film that you finish watching with a grand grin. There's great craftsmanship in The Adventures of Robin Hood too, with every element shaping this into perhaps one of the greatest films ever made. Perhaps not in the same way a Citizen Kane or Seven Samurai are 'great', but The Adventures of Robin Hood is just such a pleasure you can't help but enjoy every aspect.

England, ruled by the Normans, is under the 'care' of Prince John (Claude Rains) while his brother King Richard the Lion-Heart (Ian Hunter) is off to Crusade. Technically, Prince John isn't or shouldn't be in charge, but he's wrangled his way to be Regent.

Now comes shocking news: Richard is being held for ransom in Europe, which delights Prince John and his second-in-command, Sir Guy of Gisbourne (Basil Rathbone). Along with the comically inept High Sheriff of Nottingham (Melville Cooper), John and Sir Guy strangle the economic lifeblood of the native Saxon population.

One day, Much the Miller's Son (Herbert Mundin) kills a royal deer when Sir Guy catches him. Much is not afraid to tell Sir Guy off, but in to save him is a Saxon nobleman, Sir Robin of Locksley. Sir Robin is one of the few Saxons in position and rank, and he also is unafraid to declare his loyalty to Richard.

At first a mere nuisance, Sir Guy in particular soon starts seething with rage at this man, who is declared an outlaw and now goes by 'Robin Hood' (Errol Flynn). Robin soon starts gathering men to aid in thwarting the usurper's plans to keep the ransom being squeezed out for himself. Among them are his best friend Will of Gamwell, better known as Will Scarlett (Patric Knowles), a large man named John Little who is nicknamed 'Little John' (Alan Hale) and Friar Tuck (Eugene Pallette), a fat friar who is also an able swordsman.

Together, they manage to capture Sir Guy and the Sheriff, who are accompanied by a Norman noblewoman, the Lady Marian Fitzwalter, a royal ward generally known as Maid Marian (Olivia de Havilland). At first, Maid Marian holds this Saxon outlaw in contempt, but as he guides her through the refugees in Sherwood Forest whom he protects and as she learns more, Maid Marian sees that perhaps things are not as she first thought.

A plot is hatched to outwit Robin via an archery contest, with Marian as unwitting bait. The rascally Robin cannot resist showing off his skill or a chance to see the beautiful royal ward again, and he's captured. Marian defies 'her' people to help Robin, and both acknowledge their love for each other. They also acknowledge that the divisions between Saxon and Norman are foolish, as they are now both loyal to England and Richard, together.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Richard has snuck back to England, and Prince John's court plots to assassinate the monarch and place John formally on the throne. John also plans to execute Maid Marian for helping Robin. It's up to Robin and his Merry Men, along with help from Maid Marian's loyal lady-in-waiting Bess (Una O'Connor) to stop this coup and rescue Marian.

As many a good story, our lovers are reunited and they live happily ever after.

One of the best words for The Adventures of Robin Hood would be 'sumptuous'. The film is a glorious visual treat. This is primarily courtesy of the beautiful Technicolor, which renders all the costumes and art direction in luxurious and vibrant visuals.

Everything appears rich and grand. One can quibble about whether the fact that so much of The Adventures of Robin Hood was so spotless and shiny was historically inaccurate, but one has to remember that at some level, this is fantasy.

The film is also blessed with perhaps the finest cast assembled for a film. When people think 'Robin Hood', they think Errol Flynn even if they have never seen the film. That jolly, laughing figure with a devil-may-care manner and swashbuckling persona is how many see Robin Hood, down to the green tights.

It helps that Flynn is simply gorgeous. There's no getting around it: Flynn is breathtakingly beautiful, from his very first moment on screen you see what an insane handsome figure he was.

All that: the jolly manner and sheer physical beauty, may fool people into thinking Flynn was not acting. No, on the contrary, Flynn gives a very rich and charismatic performance. It is a remarkably deep performance.

We see this when we have at least one moment where he drops the cheerful veneer. As he escorts Maid Marian through the forest to see the Saxon refugees we see a sad man, one whose heart is pure, who fights only because it's his only recourse against injustice. "It's injustice I hate, not the Normans", he tells her.  That bravado is allowed to slip and we see a true noble-man.

We also have another extremely talented performer who is also blessed to be gorgeous: Flynn's longtime screen partner, Dame Olivia de Havilland. She is not just a pretty face. We see the evolution in Maid Marian, from the haughty Norman noblewoman to an English woman, who sees how wrong she was and how in helping Robin, she helps her true people: the English people.

We also see a woman in love, and she has a wonderful scene with O'Connor and later Flynn where she talks about whether it is love.

I go back to the cast, and every part is played brilliantly. Rains, my favorite actor of all times, makes Prince John deliberately camp, befitting someone with grand aspirations and no justification for such grandiose ideas about himself.  Cooper's Sheriff is the comic relief: obviously an idiot but unaware of it. Whether it is 'shielding' Prince John and pompously declaring "Oh, if only I could get to (Robin Hood)" or bumbling his way to an idea, he does wonders.

The highlight of the villains, however, is Rathbone as Sir Guy. It's interesting that Rathbone tended to play either overt villains or Sherlock Holmes, the antithesis of a villain. There never seemed to be a happy medium. Rathbone's Sir Guy was the perfect antagonist: hateful, arrogant and above all highly skilled. He was shrewd as well as contemptible, someone you messed with at your own peril.

The greatness about this Triumvirate of Evil is that they all balanced each other out: Rathbone's Sir Guy was the malevolent force who was very serious, Cooper's Sheriff was the buffoon you couldn't take serious and Rains' Prince John was a little of both.

The Merry Men were equally brilliant. From Hale's generally jolly Little John to Pallette's in turns gentle and loud Friar Tuck to Knowles' cocky Will Scarlett, each had a little moment.

My favorites however are Mundin's Much and O'Connor's Bess. As these unlikely lovers they were just so cute together. You instantly liked them as the counterpoint to the grand, sweeping romance of the gorgeous Flynn and de Havilland. They make their own adorable little pair: the flittery O'Connor and the rather plain Mundin courting in their own sweet way.  You instantly like them, the mix of the somewhat saucy lady-in-waiting forever watching over 'her little lamb' and the courageous but a touch naive miller's son.

Again, they are so cute.

Much Ado About Bess...now there's an idea.

The film has two directors: William Keighley and Michael Curtiz, the latter among the greatest yet least-known and recognized of filmmakers. While it is hard for me to say which moment was by what director, we can see just how well both of them blended even though Curtiz replaced Keighley. The great thing about The Adventures of Robin Hood is that it manages to balance the romance with the action, never short-changing one.

Finally, one has to mention Erich Wolfgang Korngold's score, one of the finest ever written for film. From the rousing opening theme to its lush romantic melodies to the thrilling action music and the sweeping music for when Robin literally sweeps in to a shocked Sir Guy and Maid Marian, adding a 'Welcome to Sherwood Forest, my lady!", Korngold's score is a rare moment when the Academy got it right when it singled it out for recognition (along with the film's editing and art direction).

The Adventures of Robin Hood set the standard for all succeeding versions of this story of our noble outlaw, his lady fair and his merry men. Some of the other versions were grittier, maybe darker or even spoofs. However, I don't think any version can or ever really will come close to this version.

Everything in The Adventures of Robin Hood is perfect: the performances, the visuals, that glorious Korngold score. A joy from start to finish, it is essential viewing for anyone who loves movies.

DECISION: A+

A Special Day: A Review

A SPECIAL DAY

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Marcello Mastroianni. 

A Special Day (Una Giornata Particolare) is a departure for its two leading stars. It is a sad, haunting tale of two people who are so different and yet so alike, finding that the other is not what he/she seems.

May 8, 1938, Rome, Italy.  Adolph Hitler has come to meet his Fascist counterpart, Benito Mussolini.  Il Duce pulls out all the stops for Der Fuhrer, hosting him to a lavish parade and all Rome it seems is there.  Well, almost all Rome.

In a nondescript apartment complex there are at least three people who will not be attending.  Housewife Antonietta (Sophia Loren) would like to go with her husband and six children, but the housework cannot wait.  She knows that the apartment concierge (Francoise Berd) cannot go either, and Antoinetta figures she is alone in the complex.  After having readied her family to attend, all loyal if not fanatical Fascists like the concierge, she begins her duties.

One of them is feeding Rosamunda, the family myna bird. To her dismay, Rosamunda escapes and Antonietta becomes frantic.  Fortunately, she spies that someone else hasn't gone to the parade, a man living across the way.  She goes to that apartment and asks for help.  The man, Gabriele (Marcello Mastroianni) agrees and together they get the myna back.

Gabriele seems lonely, and Antonietta is surprised to discover he was a radio announcer, though now unemployed.  Both of them are very lonely people, and they begin a conversation.  She goes, but he then goes to her apartment, where over the course of 'a particular day', they spend the time laughing, arguing, commiserating, and revealing.  She discovers that Gabriele is a homosexual and anti-Fascist, two things our Catholic devotee of Mussolini doesn't understand.

Yet, she sees a kindred spirit in his kindness and need for someone. At the end of this day, they do appear to have a tryst, but she leaves to meet her family.  She begins reading the book he gave her, The Three Musketeers, and watches as the police take him away.

A Special Day is a showcase for our two actors, who essentially play it as a two-person play.  This is a total departure from the screen images of both Loren and Mastroianni.  The epitome of glamour and seductiveness, Loren plays a frustrated, sad, and somewhat frumpy housefrau. Mastroianni, of whom one can say is also the epitome of glamour and seductiveness, plays a quite, haunted homosexual. Both roles are clearly at odds with how most of us see them, and yet they surpass themselves in showing just how strong they are, both as actors and as a screen pairing.

In terms of performances, Loren and Mastroianni achieve something extraordinary; they display true emotions in these two figures.  Loren's Antoinetta seems to carry such unhappiness within, and in a way her support for Fascism and Mussolini is not one built out of hatred towards others like Gabriele, but more as something to make her life a little brighter.  She knows her husband is consistently unfaithful, and worse, his current mistress is something she is not: educated.  Loren as Antoinetta has wonderful moments, such as when she reveals the deep hurt she has, not so much of her husband's infidelity but in that his mistress has more education.  It is not the sex that bothers her so much as a sense that she isn't worthy.

That is probably why she gravitated towards Fascism and Mussolini, down to having a photo album of Il Duce, a collage of Il Duce made up of buttons, and even speaks movingly of when she saw him briefly on horseback, to where she fainted when their eyes met.  A Special Day, in that respect, gives an indication as to why Italy and Germany both fell sway to these tyrants.  It may not have been just a mad desire to wipe out peoples en masse.  It might just have been to feel part of something great, something that would improve their lives.

I feel I've wandered off a bit.  As strong as Loren is as this sad, heartbroken and simple woman, Mastroianni is equally strong as this man, finding himself on the verge of exile if he is lucky, hiding his sexual orientation and seeking solace among anyone with a friendly face.  Mastroianni is gentle and almost meek as Gabriele, a man on the verge of losing everything and finding on this day a kindred spirit in a most unlikely place.

However, when he rages, he rages.  Given how gentle Gabriele is, when he finally explodes with Antoinetta, screaming at the top of his lungs that he is homosexual, including terms for it that I won't use, you see the anger burning beneath him.

He and Loren give simply magnificent, heartbreaking performances.

It's to director Ettore Scola's credit that he kept the audience's interest when so much takes place in a confined space and with basically two people.  He also bathes the film in sepia, filling in with a sense of the pathos of the past.  He has a great tracking shot where we first enter the family apartment, the camera moving smoothly from room to room as Antonietta rises everyone and gets her family going, the weariness within her close to the surface.

A Special Day is a very quiet film, and a very moving one.  It's a sad and haunting tale of two people who find each other just when this monumental event will shape their small lives without their active participation.  It's a sympathetic portrait of these two different yet similar people, tenderly portrayed by two fine actors.

DECISION: A+

It's A Beautiful Day On The Hudson. The Doris Day & Rock Hudson Retrospective

This essay is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Doris Day.

This is the truly amazing thing about Doris Day and Rock Hudson. We think of them as one of the great pairings in film history, in the same ranks as a Powell & Loy or Tracy & Hepburn, Mickey & Judy or Frankie & Annette.

Their collaboration certainly puts them up there with those immortal screen couples.

The teaming of Day and Hudson worked so well that we think of them as a long-lasting partnership when in reality their joint output is surprisingly small.  People are genuinely shocked when they learn the truth about the Hudson/Day collaboration.

Compared to the 14 films of William Powell and Myrna Loy or 9 between Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, Doris & Rock worked together on only three films: Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back, and Send Me No Flowers.  Even Mickey Rooney & Judy Garland and Frankie Avalon & Annette Funicello made more films as a duo (by my count 8 and 7 respectively not counting cameos in other films starring one or the other).

Today, I look over the Rock Hudson/Doris Day total collaboration to see if I can find what made them work so well. First, a brief overview of the three films: Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back and Send Me No Flowers.

Pillow Talk: Playboy songwriter Brad Allen and interior decorator Jan Marrow have to share a 'party line' (a phone number accessible to more than one person), much to the irritation of the other.  Brad, however, discovers what Jan looks like and is smitten.  Creating a wholly fictitious character, Jan soon falls for 'Rex Stetson' until she eventually gets wise to things.

Lover Come Back: Advertising rivals Jerry Webster, lackadaisical man-about-town, and Carol Templeton, hard-charging single/single-minded lady, constantly fight for clients.  Carol finds Jerry's habit of winning clients by underhanded methods maddening but she's frustrated by her failed efforts to get him thrown out of the industry.  In a series of mix-ups, Jerry is forced to not only come up with a fictitious product called "VIP" that was erroneously marketed, but pretend to be Dr. Linus Tyler when Carol mistakes Webster for Linus.  Things come to a head when Carol, in love with 'Linus', discovers the rouse.

Send Me No Flowers: Hypochondriac George Kimball, through a series of misunderstandings with his doctor, is convinced that he is dying of a heart ailment.  He decides to keep this 'news' from his very tolerant wife Judy, down to buying joint burial plots.  George, however, wants to ensure Judy is looked after his 'death', so he decides to start husband-hunting.  It isn't until Judy finds an old flame that George's jealousy starts outweighing his will to die.  The situation grows more bizarre when both discover that George is actually in better shape than anyone they know and Judy suspects the whole thing was a way to try and cover up an affair she imagines George to have had.

It's a curious thing that in each film, there is a strong element of deception. Both Pillow Talk and Lover Come Back center around a false identity with the rakish Rock pretending to be a virtual innocent to the goodhearted Doris.  She in turn falls in love with the false identity only to be equally heartbroken and enraged to find the object of her affection is her sworn enemy.

She was a goodhearted woman in love with a good-timing man.  Unlike Waylon Jennings' song however, the situations are played for laughs.

With Send Me No Flowers, there is deception, but it is accidental, made more farcical when Rock attempts to lie his way to the truth only to get tripped up by a logical but bizarre reality.

Despite Oscar Levant's famous wisecrack, 'I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin', these three films show that in her own way, Doris was no naive waif.  In each film she attempts to 'help', even 'fix' the man she has fallen for. She attempt to bring him out of the shell he pretends to be in not with feminine wiles, as her characters don't use wiles.  Instead, her characters fall into a stereotype of women attempting to 'change' a man.

Doris' characters would never bother with the 'real' characters, as they represent all that she hates: manipulation, insincerity, deceit.  The comedy comes from Rock's characters pretending to be the type of man Doris would fall for: naive, sweet, more innocent and downright virginal than she is purported to be.  Day's characters were not unaware of sex, and despite her screen image I never found a suggestion that she was a virgin.

Instead, Doris Day's characters were actually positive role models for women.  They were self-employed or had major positions in a male-dominated world.  They lived independent lives without needing a man to provide or take care of them.  Doris' characters, rather than be sexless because of their looks, were free of entanglements.  Their lack of promiscuity, especially compared to Rock's characters, was not due to a lack of ability, but to a decision to be selective.

In short, it wasn't that Doris Day's characters were perpetual virgins.  It was that they made the decision that they would sleep with a man by their own free will. 

If one looks at it, Doris' unwillingness to sleep with Rock was not prudishness or morality, but a decision by someone fully in control of their own lives.  Her choice to hold back was actually more empowering, because Rock was forced to chase her.

In the formula of their films though, Doris about to give in to the pleasures of the flesh was thwarted almost at the last minute by discovering the truth.  Here, we can see that Doris was a better role model than she's been given credit for.  Yes, she cried, yes, she was hurt, but she was also enraged and rather than fall into despair, she went into action.  She threw him out of her life and learned from her experience.


Being romantic comedies, however, we know they'll end up together in the end, and they do so only when Rock repents of his sins.  Doris, contrary to what others might think, was the one in full control.

I think the best way to describe why the Rock Hudson/Doris Day films were so successful is that they were 'innocently risqué'.  They relied on double entendres to suggest more than what was said, yet they never made any overtly indecent proposal.  They both gave a slight edge to what they said to each other and others but still say it in a surprisingly wholesome way.

The best example is in Pillow Talk, which is surprisingly racy given they don't have a physical relationship. Just the title, 'pillow talk', is quite daring.  Thanks to the split screen we get a titillating and arousing set of moments: Doris and Rock metaphorically in bed together, both of them in their own bathtubs playing virtual footsy, Rock carrying Doris all the way to his apartment while she was still 'under the covers'.  There's a lot of suggesting going on, but that's what makes it all the more fun: the fact we 'see' things while still being able to say it isn't what it looks like.

Another unexplored or mentioned reason for their success is in the interactions between their distinct characters. Doris and Rock fed into the idea that not only do 'opposites attract' but that underneath a cauldron of contempt was a fiery passion.  It's something we've seen before from Beatrice & Benedick to Elizabeth Bennett & Mr. Darcy: two rivals who cannot stand each other but whom you know are perfect for each other.  In these stories, the verbal volley between them masks their true feelings of love and inevitably lead them to romance.

Doris and Rock's characters continue that proud and beautiful tradition.

Their romantic pairing was helped by both being breathtakingly beautiful.  However, I think the greater success to their pairing was due to how they played the characters.

We should look askance at Rock's behavior: he is putting up a front to woo his 'enemy'.  However, through her guileless nature and sincerity, we see what many people fantasize about: the taming of the cad.  Her strength and honesty, along with her physical beauty, was what reformed and redeemed him.  He, in a sense, had to under this trial to become worthy of her.

The good girl remakes the bad boy.

A final reason for their success is in that they got a chance to play against their image.  Doris managed to be more sexual without being a tart, and Hudson showed he could do comedy after being kept hidden as a purely dramatic actor.  It's a similar change to another great pairing: Powell & Loy, whose images changed to showcase another side after they began their own successful collaboration.

The screenplays help.  Pillow Talk won Best Original Screenplay and Lover Come Back was nominated in the same category.  There is a lot of wit and humor in the films, particularly in Pillow Talk when, again, through a very odd set of circumstances, Rock unwittingly suggests he is pregnant!

In each film, the elements within them: polar opposites who find love with each other in the end, a couple of good songs for Day to sing, beautiful costumes, a series of misunderstandings that lead to funny moments and a happy ending, all work together to make their collaborations such a successful one.

Finally, I think Tony Randall, the third wheel in this trio of films, has not gotten the credit he deserves.  He is the catalyst for some of the misunderstandings, and his character is an important element in what makes the films charming and funny.  Randall's characters are the flustered, neurotic 'voices of reason/authority' whom everyone either ignores or acts against, the comic relief in a romantic comedy.

When watching the films, we can forget that reality would not allow for a real happy ending. Doris and Rock's final collaboration was when Hudson was a guest on Day's animal-related television show Doris Day's Best Friends. The public was shocked when they saw Hudson's physical deterioration due to AIDS.  The tragedy of Hudson's death should not put a dent into the enjoyment of this wonderful pairing, though the suggestion in Pillow Talk that 'Rex Stetson', playing on gay stereotypes, may be gay seems to put a bizarre edge on things.

We should instead focus on the laughter and joy their collaboration brought.  It's so rare to find a screen couple that works.  I think that the teaming of Doris Day and Rock Hudson is among the greatest and most enduring, a type that remains with us today.  Their joint body of work is small, but it's a credit to them as performers that even decades after their final films, we still think of them as a couple.

When William Powell died, the public sent condolences to his on-screen partner, Myrna Loy, owing to a strange idea among people that they were really married.  I don't know if Doris Day got any messages of condolence when Rock Hudson died, but it seems fitting if she did.

They just were so great together.

Rock Hudson: 1925-1985
Doris Day: born 1922

Myrna Loy: So Nice to Come Home To. A Review

MYRNA LOY: SO NICE TO COME HOME TO

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Myrna Loy.

It's a credit to Myrna Loy's extraordinary talent that she transitioned so effortlessly from an exotic femme fatale to the epitome of American womanhood so easily.  The Kathleen Turner-hosted documentary Myrna Loy: So Nice to Come Home To explores Loy's life and work and makes for a good primer into this most remarkable performer.

Loy started out as a dancer with no interest in the nascent film industry apart from a chance to perform in the pre-show entertainment the various Hollywood theater palaces had.  She had no desire to act, but found work as an extra, including the mammoth production of the original Ben-Hur.

The work was steady, and once sound came in, Loy found herself in demand thanks to her natural tones.  Oddly, the studios she worked for, Warner Brothers and MGM, insisted on casting her as an exotic woman both in the silent and early sound era, including some oddball choices such as The Mask of Fu Manchu, where she played the daughter of the notorious Chinese character played by Boris Karloff.

However, in the same year The Mask of Fu Manchu was released, 1932, she made another film that started her on the road to another and more natural screen image: the model American woman.  New Morals for Old with Robert Young allowed her the chance to speak in her natural voice and a chance for some light comedy.

It wasn't until she met two other men that she became the Myrna Loy we all know and love.  The first was director Woody Van Dyke, known as 'One-Take Woody' due to his fast directing style.  The second was William Powell, with whom she would eventually make a total of fourteen films.  Their first collaboration, Manhattan Melodrama, had some unintended drama when notorious gangster John Dillinger was lured to his death at the Biograph Theater, which was showing Manhattan Melodrama and starred Dillinger's favorite actress.

Upon learning of her unintentional role in Dillinger's death, Loy felt genuine sadness that she was in a roundabout way responsible for his death, somehow used as bait.

Loy wasn't just Dillinger's favorite actress: she won a poll of moviegoers naming her 'The Queen of Hollywood', with frequent costar Clark Gable as 'The King'.  Loy, however, was starting to make waves of her own: she used her clout to go on strike for better pay, and won.

Loy is most remembered for the Thin Man films she and Powell made, and So Nice to Come Home To touches on what makes them work.

First, it showcased two actors who had been typecast breaking against their previous screen images to remake themselves.  For Powell, he moved from suave villains to charming comic, for Loy, from dramatic to more lighthearted fare. The Thin Man series allowed them to play up to their strengths and cemented them as one of the Great Duos in screen history.

Second, the Thin Man films showcased something that had rarely been seen on screen and something still rare today: a genuinely happy married couple.  Nick and Nora Charles were not perfect, but they were perfect for each other.

Third, the Thin Man series showed that while it was a product of its time, with the posh Nora sometimes getting pushed to the side by 'the man', Nora was a better heroine and role model for women than she's been given credit to.  She pushed back and was able to more than hold her own at subtle or overt sexism on or off the screen.

Both Nora Charles and Myrna Loy were able to be simultaneously feminist and feminine, a true iron hand in a velvet glove.  She maintained her elegant, beautiful and classy manner but was also solidly committed to her liberal worldview.  Her manner and grace is what makes her stand out.  No man would find either 'threatening' or 'strident', because she wasn't.  However, any man who thought she could be pushed or rolled over because of her gender was in for a rude awakening.

So Nice to Come Home To touches on the end of her film career, giving us surprising details such as the fact that between 1941 and 1946, Loy made only one film (The Thin Man Goes Home in 1944). In the war years, she worked full-time with the American Red Cross, overseeing entertainment at military hospitals.  Once her major screen roles came to an end, she moved to New York, working in theater.  The documentary ends with footage of Kathleen Turner at Loy's Kennedy Center Honors presentation, thanking her for paving the way on so many fronts.

She quotes Loy's questioning of MGM brass when it came to representation long before the term was even known.  "Why must Negroes always play servants?", Turner quotes Loy as asking.  "Why can't we have a film where they are walking up the courthouse stairs with a briefcase?"

So Nice to Come Home To is a love letter from its writer/director, the late film critic Richard Schickel to Loy the actress.  As Loy was still alive when So Nice to Come To was made, there is no chance to see that some information would need updating.  For example, the year after the documentary was made, Myrna Loy was presented with an Honorary Oscar for Lifetime Achievement, which she accepted via satellite.  The documentary mentions that she never won an Oscar, but it failed to mention that she was never nominated for one, a shocking omission that makes a mockery of The Academy.

While So Nice to Come Home To, to its credit, does touch on one or two negative aspects of the Thin Man films, it didn't delve much into them.  It touches on the sexism of keeping Nora at times 'out of the loop', but more importantly, on the alcoholism in them.  The documentary mentions that the films take too lightly the excessive drinking the Charleses partook of, but I would think that people watching now might be more aghast at how much Nick and Nora boozed, particularly Nick.

Essentially, they were functioning alcoholics, or at the very least Nick was and Nora was an enabler. The boozing is dated and any potential remakes might want to pull back on the joys of drunkenness, though again they weren't made to be serious.

So Nice to Come Home To also does not talk much if at all about Loy's personal life, barely mentioning that her four marriages all failed.  If one comes to the film looking into what drove her, what her mindset was, or what struggles she may have had outside the camera, they won't get much if any information here.

The film is more about her career and what made her such an extraordinary figure.  I put it down to being a mix of class and sass, being elegant while keeping the common touch.  She strikes me as the type of woman who knew what fork to use at a formal dinner but who would also gently guide the person who didn't into choosing the right one.  I imagine Loy would show respect and courtesy but would not suffer fools gladly, telling people off in a most sophisticated way.

Of course, one wonders what people would make of a-then recently discovered color film where Loy is dancing in a Chinese tableau, where she'd be accused of cultural appropriation if not flat-out racism.

Myrna Loy: So Nice to Come Home To is a good way to learn about Loy's career and what made her so special.  One may not learn much about her beyond the screen, but one comes away with deep respect for a woman who was beautiful in just about every way.

1905-1993

DECISION: B-

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner: A Review

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER

It is surprising that fifty years ago, interracial marriage was still outlawed in at least 17 states.  At a time of heightened racial tensions, with riots breaking out and mass shifts in the culture, it seemed the perfect time for a romantic comedy about miscegenation. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner was heralded as an 'important' and 'relevant' film at the time, and I think many people still hold it in some sort of whispered awe.  I think that takes away from the film as a whole, mummifying it to something almost sacrosanct when it was billed as first and foremost, a comedy.  Having seen it twice now, I'm moderated my views on Guess Who's Coming to Dinner slightly.

It's not as preachy as I remembered it, but it's also not as funny as I'm told it is either.

Joanna 'Joey' Drayton (Katherine Houghton) has come home to San Francisco for a day to introduce her parents Christina (Houghton's real-life aunt, Katherine Hepburn) and Matt (Spencer Tracy) her fiancee.  He's Doctor John Wade Prentice.  There's just one minor detail to this happy news: Dr. Prentice is black (Sidney Poitier).  Despite their strong liberal leanings, the news that their only child is going to marry a 'Negro' (to use Joey's own words) is surprising to say the least.

There's a big rush for them to marry.  Even though they've known each other for only ten days, Joey is adamant about marrying a man fourteen years her senior within two weeks.  She also is completely puzzled as to why her wanting to marry a colored man (again, quoting Joey) would possibly be an issue for anyone, least of all her very liberal parents.

Things get more complicated when Dr. Prentice essentially offers them a way out: if either of them have any objections, he won't marry Joey because he doesn't want to cause a rift in their relationship. While Christina soon accepts things, Matt is still highly reluctant to give his blessing.

At this point, apparently everyone else jumps in with their two cents.  Family friend Monsignor Ryan (Cecil Kellaway) is more on Joey's worldview.  Why many interracial romances work out with no problems, he says.  Prentice's parents fly in, and John Sr. and Mary Prentice (Roy E. Glenn and Beah Richards) are a little more than surprised that their son is opting for a white girl.  John Sr. in particular is appalled and warns his son about the biggest mistake he'll ever make.  Even the Drayton family maid, Tillie (Isabelle Sanford) jumps into the act, expressing displeasure at the whole thing, particularly towards Dr. Prentice.  As she famously said, "Civil rights is one thing.  This here is something else".

Now with everyone ready for dinner, Matt finally makes a long statement after having just about everyone tell him what they think of all this.  He says that in the final analysis it doesn't matter what anyone thinks, only what Joey and John feel.  If it's half of what he still feels for Christina, then that's everything.  With that, it's time for dinner.  

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner is one of my mother's favorite movies, so I feel I can't be too harsh with it.  For myself, I can say that the clear standout is Tracy, whose final monologue is a bravura performance, particularly since he was very ill during production and would die three weeks after the film's completion.

His final scene where he gives a summation of everything that's been going on during this wild day along with his 'love is the only thing that matters' is one of those things that one watches with that awe I spoke earlier of.  It's the performance of a man coming to terms with his own ideology, who unlike his daughter and up to a point his wife sees that their daughter's relationship will have its own unique set of issues, but who sees that if Prentice loves Joanna the way he loves Christina, that marriage will be built on a beautiful thing.

I think Hepburn won her second of her four Best Actress Oscars not for the breath of her performance in the film because there is nothing particularly grand about it.  Instead, I think she won for her single reaction to her longtime secret partner's speech, the tears at his confession of love that could not be spoken publicly revealed via dialogue.

They were the standouts.  It's just about everyone else whom I wasn't particularly impressed.  Poitier was good as Dr. Prentice, but his role was one of virtual sainthood: he even refuses to have sex with Joey until they get married despite her eagerness for a romp.  Perhaps that explains the mad rush to get hitched.  Sandford's role, while small, was where any comedy came from in her almost hysterical reactions to all this tomfoolery.

Kellaway, Richards, and Glenn sounded less like people and more like sounding boards to make whatever point of view they needed to.  Richards was probably the best of the lot, with Kellaway the worst.

Out of all the performances, I found Houghton's to be the most grating and annoying.  She came across as a near-total ninny, unrealistic, downright stupid.  I think Houghton herself has reflected she wasn't so much playing a character as she was an ideal, and her first role demonstrates that she did not have the skills at the time to pull off something this complex.

Joey's totally unrealistic view isn't naive but idiotic, as is her manner.  It's one thing to say there's no problem in the racially complicated 1960s.  It's another to genuinely believe it.

I will reflect more on Houghton's character in another essay, but suffice to say that after two viewings, my original view of her remains intact: Dr. Prentice can do better than Joanna Drayton.

While the script is long on bromides on the pros and cons of interracial romance, it does have issues it won't address.  Unless she's pregnant, I don't see why there has to be a rush to the altar.  The fact that he's fourteen years older is mentioned, but never explored.  The fact they've known each other a total of ten days is similarly mentioned, but never explored.

As a digression, I personally would be more upset about my daughter wanting to marry a man a decade-plus older whom she's known for less than two weeks than whether his race or ethnicity matched hers.

I was also a bit perturbed over how William Rose's script almost casually dismissed the elder Prentice's views.  His life experiences would, I figure, be ones where he faced far more prejudice and downright bigotry than his son, and his generation had to endure greater and worse things than the younger Prentice.  To have his objections pretty much tossed as so much idiocy seemed unfair to him.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner is a bit stagy, with a lot of monologues that can be a bit preachy, almost slightly sanctimonious and naive.  It's no surprise that the film has been adapted as a play, because a lot of it plays as one.

After seeing it again, I liked Guess Who's Coming to Dinner more than I did the first time.  It might be a little dated now, and it might be a bit pat when it comes to the issues of the difficulties an interracial couple would face at the times.  However, a few lines from the film appear extremely prescient, almost eerily so.

Joey, a white woman with a male nickname, and John, a black doctor, met in Hawaii.  Dr. Prentice tells his future father-in-law that Joey expects their biracial children to grow up and be Presidents of the United States.  If you substitute "Stanley Ann Dunham" and "Barack Hussein Obama, Sr." for Joey and John, who met and married in Hawaii...

 

DECISION: B+