Passage to Marseille: A Review (Review #1750)

 

PASSAGE TO MARSEILLE

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Humphrey Bogart.

Passage to Marseille is an interesting picture in that I do not know many films that dive further and further into flashbacks, like a cinematic Russian doll. Almost amusing in its Free France flag-waving, Passage to Marseille has some good points but is almost punishingly long and now comes across as slightly silly despite its good intentions. 

A plot summary is a bit hard because Passage to Marseille has up to three flashbacks, one wrapped within another. The present-day story is of reporter Manning (John Loder) who wants to do a report on the Free French Air Force stationed in England. Granted permission to look in at the secret FFAF base, he meets Captain Freycinet (Claude Rains). He gives Manning Flashback Number 1 of when he met FF pilot Jean Matrac (Humphrey Bogart).

Freycinet was an officer aboard the ship Ville de Nancy when the ship comes across a canoe with some men. First claiming to be French miners in Venezuela attempting to return to France to fight the Nazi regime, Freycinet learns the truth from one of the men, Renault (Philip Dorn). 

We now enter Flashback Number 2. Renault and the other men are really escaped prisoners from the notorious Devil's Island in Cayenne, French Guiana. He had joined the French army illegally due to lying about his age but who became a deserter that regretted his decision. Renault feels a fire for France despite his incarceration. He eventually encounters an old former prisoner nicknamed Grandpere (Vladimir Sokoloff). He has saved his money and can get access to a canoe for an escape. Renault agrees, with four other prisoners. He also suggested as their leader Matrac. 

Now we go to Flashback 3. Matrac is a crusading French journalist, condemning the Munich Pact and getting grief for it. He also loves a woman, Paula (Michelle Morgan). Matrac finds joy and love with Paula, but the collaborationist forces get him convicted for murder. He is sent to Devil's Island.

Working our way back from Flashback 3 to 2 to 1, Matrac, Grandpere and Renault leave the island along with a giant named Petit (George Tobias), a small man named Marius (Peter Lorre) and a man in the middle named Garou (Helmut Dantine). Freycinet believes they are patriots, and they eventually join forces to stop the evil Major Duval (Syndey Greenstreet) from mounting a mutiny that would send them to Vichy France. That, however, meant that Matrac would not return to Paula. Freycinet tells Manning that Matrac flies over her home to drop off notes to her and Jean, Jr. This time, however, things may not be the same.

You cannot go home again, or so the saying goes. Watching Passage to Marseille, I got that feeling as the film went on that people involved in the film were trying to echo that film. You have a good number of Casablanca players in the film (Bogart, Rains, Greenstreet, Lorre and Dantine) directed by Casablanca director Michael Curtiz. Certain scenes and characters echoed Casablanca, intentionally or not. Early in the film, we have a man in a trench coat and a French captain observe a plane taking off. Perhaps the wildest Casablanca/Passage to Marseille connection is when Casablanca's Renault (Rains) talked to Passage to Marseille's Renault (Dorn). As one who loves Casablanca, I never thought I would see Renault Meets Renault.

You also have Corinna Mura, the singer at Rick's Cafe Americain, singing in the same way at a French cafe where she sings what I figure is Passage to Marseille's unofficial theme, Someday I'll Meet You Again. I think even the fussy Italian from Casablanca was in Passage to Marseille too. 

Someday I'll Meet You Again is no As Time Goes By, and Passage to Marseille is no Casablanca. You cannot force a love story into a war film and think that you can get the audience to connect with it by virtue of it just being there. The Matrac/Paula romance is wildly underdeveloped and takes so long in getting there that it seems almost an afterthought.

It does not help that the performances were a bit weak. I found Morgan so overwrought in her declarations of love that they seemed a case of she doth protest too much. Bogart too seemed to be in love with Paula because the script said he was, not because he thought it was true. Passage to Marseille spends so much time going from present to past to further past that we can't invest in the last story we get (the Jean/Paula romance). 

Bogart, unlike almost everyone else, did not bother to sound like anything other than an American. Granted, many of the cast was foreign, but Greenstreet at least tried for a French accent. Bogart's New York sound made the idea of him being this passionate Frenchman laughable. 

Not that a lot of the acting seemed up to par. There were times when I was close to chuckling seeing some of the performances. I get the idea that Passage to Marseille is close to propaganda, but the "WE LOVE FRANCE" schtick grew tiresome. So many characters go on and on about how they love France that it becomes slightly comical. Sydney Greenstreet should have twirled his mustache as the EVIL Duval, his performance as broad as his waist*. His lackey went overboard in his sycophancy to where you did not take it seriously.

As a side note, given how Duval was pro-Vichy, why neither Freycinet or Captain Malo (Victor Francen) did not just place Duval and those around him under guard makes them look like idiots. Having Hans Conreid as fellow Vichy supporter Jourdain is already silly enough; the thought that Uncle Tonoose being described in voiceover as "a treacherous youth and wildest officer" is flat-out laughable. Conried was pretty much a comic actor, so casting him in what should be a tough role in a gritty war film is too hard to accept. How can I take seriously the crazed band leader from The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T being in fisticuffs with French convicts?

I give Curtiz and screenwriters Casey Robinson and Jack Moffitt credit in the flashbacks within flashbacks within flashbacks moved well. I do wonder though if perhaps fewer flashbacks and a more straightforward story would have worked better. Credit should also go to James Wong Howe's brilliant cinematography. Certain sequences, such as Matrac's imprisonment, are almost works of art. 

Other parts, though, seemed curious. Paula and Jean, Jr.'s home seemed quite pleasant and bountiful for living in occupied France. Jean, Jr. is also supposed to be five years old, which makes me wonder exactly how long Matrac was on Devil's Island. 

Certainly, Passage to Marseille did what it set out to do: ennoble the Free French cause. To my mind, it went overboard in that department, but given the war I think I understand where it came from. Not exactly a Casablanca sequel, Passage to Marseille wasn't above echoing some memories of Morocco.  It did not work, but in case anyone wondered, the Free French Air Force LOVED France.

*Anyone who thinks that quip is "fat-shaming" should be aware that Passage to Marseille takes potshots at Greenstreet's girth too. In voiceover, Claude Rains remarks that Duval filled the seat of honor "and amply so". 

DECISION: C-

Mildred Pierce: A Review

MILDRED PIERCE

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Jack Carson.

Mildred Pierce is the highwater mark in the career of Joan Crawford, though it also has some outstanding performances from the cast en masse. A tale of misguided maternal devotion, Mildred Pierce will both touch the viewer and warn one of the dangers of loving someone too much.

A murder has taken place in a luxurious beach house, with the victim, society vagabond Monte Baragon (Zachary Scott) uttering "Mildred".  It is not long before a whole slew of suspects starts popping up. Could it be Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford), the victim's estranged wife? What about their business partner, Wally Fay (Jack Carson)? There's Mildred's ex-husband Bert (Bruce Bennett)? Maybe even Mildred's loyal assistant Ida (Eve Arden)? 

As the police investigate whodunit, Mildred tells her story. Mildred and Bert were struggling financially, and his affair with Mrs. Biederhof (Lee Patric) did not help their marriage. Both loved their daughters Veda (Ann Blyth) and Kay (Jo Ann Marlowe), but Veda is slowly devolving into a spoiled snob. 

Mildred needs a job and soon becomes a premiere waitress for Ida. With some help from her frenemy Wally, Mildred gets a property from Monte and opens a successful restaurant, though Kay dies before the restaurant opens. It is not long before Mildred and Monte begin a romance, but she is highly troubled by Veda's growing greed and snobbishness. It's gotten to where Mildred is working herself to death to keep Veda in a lifestyle that she's grown accustomed to. Veda's voracious nature ultimately leads to murder and tragedy for many.

Mildred Pierce was Joan Crawford's comeback after being forced out of Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer and finding a new home at Warner Brothers. This is probably her most celebrated performance, and rightly so. Crawford embodies a mixture of strength and vulnerability, equally able to mourn her daughter and pushing away the various wolves surrounding her. 

Crawford has that steely resolve whenever pushing the sleazy Wally away, but also show deep sorrow at how her love for Veda blinded her until she realized it was too late. Tough and weak, sometimes in the same scene, Crawford reveals this woman in full.

Both Ann Blyth and Eve Arden earned Oscar nominations for Supporting Actress, and each merited the nods. Blyth is the embodiment of evil as Veda, selfish, snobbish, self-absorbed. Her cruelty and manipulative nature come through in Blyth's performance. However, we do have some sympathy for her when she falls on hard times. Arden could let the quips fly, such as her remark that alligators had the right idea about eating their young. However, Arden was not quippy in the comic manner, able to play drama without losing the light touch.

For me, the clear standout apart from Joan Crawford is Jack Carson as Wally Fay. He was primarily known for light comedies, but Mildred Pierce revealed a lesser-used ability to be strong in dramas. In turns charming and sleazy, Carson is helpful and harmful as Wally. Carson easily shifts from one moment helping Mildred finagle Monte in getting the building on the cheap to mercilessly hitting on her. He is both cruel and kind, caring and conceited. Mildred Pierce in my view is Jack Carson's finest performance, and it is a permanent puzzle as to how he did not receive a Best Supporting Actor nomination.

Mildred Pierce is another hallmark in director Michael Curtiz's career. He is masterful in using shadow and lighting to convey story. The slow revelation of who is at the beach house that fateful night is simply brilliant. Curtiz moves the story quickly and smoothly. While most of Mildred Pierce is told in flashback, it is a credit to both Curtiz and screenwriter Ranald MacDougall (adapting the James M. Cain novel) that we soon forget it is in flashback until we are jolted back to the police interview.

Mildred Pierce is a brilliant film, with excellent performances and a smooth flowing story. 

DECISION: A+

The Sea Hawk (1940): A Review

 

THE SEA HAWK

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Gilbert Roland.

Rousing does not even begin to describe The Sea Hawk, as swashbuckling an adventure as has been made. Exciting and fast-paced despite its length, The Sea Hawk is fun and inventive, with a brilliant turn by Errol Flynn in one of his most electrifying performances.

Captain Geoffrey Thorpe (Flynn) is one of what are dubbed "sea hawks", a group of privateers who, with silent and tacit approval of Queen Elizabeth I (Flora Robson) attack Spanish ships and take their treasure, which somehow finds its way into the British coffers. His ship the Albatross has attacked the ship carrying the Spanish ambassador Don Jose de Cordova (Claude Rains) and his niece, the Dona Maria (Brenda Marshall). Captain Lopez (Gilbert Roland) is equally displeased, but there is nothing he can do about Thorpe's victory.

Cordova, secretly working with British Lord Chancellor Wolfingham (Henry Daniell), want England weak, particularly with its Navy, so that Spain's King Philip II (Montagu Love) can conquer it, and from that bring the whole world under Spanish domination. Opting not to attack Philip directly, Elizabeth says nothing when Thorpe proposes to attack the Spanish on land to take their plunder.

Unfortunately, Cordova knows of the plans to attack in Panama and sets a trap that Thorpe and his men fall into. Dona Maria was too late in trying to warn Thorpe, as the half-British Maria has fallen in love with Thorpe and vice-versa. Now condemned to a Spanish galley, Thorpe sees no way out. That is, until a British spy lets himself be captured and is made a galley slave. A coup on board brings the British back to the kingdom, and from there it is a race to inform Her Majesty of Philip's plans for his Armada. Now as Sir Geoffrey Thorpe, Gloriana declares she will build a great Navy to defend this sceptered isle.

Warner Brothers could never do sumptuous in the way their rivals at MGM could. It could, however, they could do grand, which is what The Sea Hawk is. From the first notes of Erich Wolfgang Korngold's rousing score, The Sea Hawk is sweeping and epic, thrilling and romantic. It has the full intention of sweeping the viewer into action, adventure and romance, and it does so brilliantly.

I think people today simply do not appreciate Korngold's score for The Sea Hawk. A good part of the film's success lies in his music. It shifts easily from rousing and grand to surprisingly tender and romantic. It is epic and intimate, able to shift from the sea battles to a beautiful romantic scene in an English garden.

This English Garden scene is simply beautiful in every way. Director Michael Curtiz and cinematography Sol Polito capture a remarkable sequence in every way. The camera moves fluidly, and the interplay between Flynn and Marshall is beautifully acted. Here again too, Korngold's score builds on the tender and growing romance between the two adversaries.

Curtiz and Polito also do something quite extraordinary visually in The Sea Hawk. The entire Panama sequence is shot in sepia versus the lush black-and-white of the rest of the film. Not only was the transition from black-and-white to sepia so well-done one almost does not notice, but somehow the sepia works for this section of The Sea Hawk. It is almost a throwback to silent films, when changes in scenery or mood were indicated by change in color tints.

The sepia and black-and-white sections show that there was a great deal of thought into how The Sea Hawk should look. As such, I think colorization of films like The Sea Hawk is a terrible mistake. This film was made to be in black-and-white and sepia, not in color. It works fine as it is and cannot be perfected.

Errol Flynn is the definite swashbuckler, and The Sea Hawk is a triumph in his filmography. He handles the action sequences with wild abandon, dashing and daring when swinging across the waters to attack a ship or literally crossing swords with Her Majesty's enemies. However, we also see a playful side whenever he acts with a monkey and the romantic, swoon-worthy side when he woos the fair Dona Maria. The Sea Hawk ranks among Flynn's best performances.

Marshall was pretty and moving as Maria, who shifted in her views from hostile to helpful. Claude Rains was villainous but shrewd as Cordova, never showing his hand unless necessary. Robson, I think, seemed to make a career out of playing Good Queen Bess, and here she even allows for a bit of humor to sneak in. She uses a fan to suppress her smile to laughter when the Spanish insist on punishing Thorpe and the other privateers and especially when Thorpe's monkey doffs his cap at Her Majesty.

Daniell was a bit over-the-top as the monstrous Wolfingham, but that was the role. Roland was elegant and noble as Thorpe's adversary, with whom he had a mutual if grudging respect.

If The Sea Hawk has a flaw, it is that in many ways it plays like a remake of The Adventures of Robin Hood done two years prior. The dashing gentleman thief wins heart of noble woman who is first openly antagonistic towards him until she sees her unity in his cause, with the dashing gentleman thief facing off against enemies of The Crown. He is captured and looks like there will be no escape until fortune lets him sweep into a final battle against those who would go against England. For better or worse both The Adventures of Robin Hood and The Sea Hawk follow a similar structure.

They even have some of the same elements: Curtiz directing, Korngold writing the music, and Alan Hale as Flynn's second-in-command. Fortunately, both films work fine independent of each other despite their similarities. Moreover, The Sea Hawk works as de facto war propaganda. From Philip II's shadow falling on the map of the world with his plans for worldwide domination to Elizabeth II's rousing speech declaring she will build her Navy and defend her island against enemies of freedom, The Sea Hawk is subtle enough to be part of its own story while speaking to the then-contemporary audience.

The Sea Hawk is rousing and thrilling and tender. It is a sweeping epic that will thrill and entertain the viewer, who will scarcely notice its length. 

DECISION: A+

The Private Lives of Elizabeth & Essex: A Review (Review #1392)

THE PRIVATE LIVES OF ELIZABETH AND ESSEX

For being The Virgin Queen, Elizabeth I had more than her fair share of romances. The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex has two great leading performances and as lavish a world as could be photographed.

Powerful but arrogant Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex (Errol Flynn) has returned to England in what he thinks is triumph, but Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I (Bette Davis) is not amused. She finds her courtier has failed and brought near-ruin rather than shame. After openly condemning him down to slapping him before the whole Court, Essex leaves this "King in Petticoats".

It's clear Gloriana misses her paramour but both are too proud to seek forgiveness. Elizabeth's shrewd courtier Francis Bacon (Donald Crisp) finds a way to recall Essex to Court: take charge of a floundering military campaign in Ireland, but as State Councilor versus military head. Elizabeth all but leaps at the chance to be reunited with the younger man as is he.

Displeased is Lady Penelope (Olivia de Havilland), smitten with Essex. She joins in a conspiracy after Essex's arrogance gets him the title Lord Protector of Ireland and a chance for military glory. Not only does he fail militarily but believes Liz has abandoned him in every way. He mounts a rebellion that almost succeeds, but the wily monarch has a few tricks up her own elaborate sleeves. Tricking him into surrendering his men, she has him imprisoned. Their pride prevents them from seeking or granting pardon, and Lord Essex is beheaded.

Bette Davis initially dismissed Errol Flynn as an actor, only much later upon rewatching The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex realizing she had been wrong. I put it down to Davis' own great ego that she failed to see Flynn was more than her equal. Their scenes together are absolute knockouts, full of fire, fury and passion between rivals and lovers.

From their first scenes together as they argue the merits of Essex's Cadiz campaign the intensity in Davis and Flynn's performances are filled with fireworks. They were equally able to play tender lovers, their scenes exuding gentle emotions. They even have a few laughs in the way intimates can.

Separately both do great work also. Davis makes Gloriana into a mercurial figure: part vain woman aware of the passing years, part lonely figure hungry for love. This Elizabeth is aware of the wicked ways of courtiers, but we also see that Essex's betrayal wounds her deeply. It wounds her vanity and ego, but it also wounds her heart. At times raging, at times at a loss, at times genuinely kind, Davis delivers an exceptional performance.

Flynn is a master at being dashing and daring, but he brings a surprising vulnerability as Essex. A strong point is when he realizes that his Irish rival the Earl of Tyrone (Alan Hale, doing a great job himself) has defeated him. The conflicting emotions all flood at him and Flynn delivers Essex's private agony and shame just through his face.

A surprise is de Havilland, who was often paired with Flynn in swashbuckling films. Though their few scenes, maybe one, was strong, it is a nice turn to see de Havilland be essentially an evil, selfish figure. Her palpable hatred for Elizabeth when her name is mentioned is shown in how her face, and when she ridicules the aging monarch via song we see just how nasty Olivia could be.

In smaller roles, Crisp and Vincent Price as Sir Walter Raleigh do strong work well. Crisp in particular does well as the ever vigilant Bacon, a man who is able to ride out the whirlwind due to his own ability to go whichever way the wind blows.

Director Michael Curtiz simply has not been given enough credit for being a master of his craft. He keeps everything moving quickly, making effective use of shadows (such as withholding revealing Elizabeth early on) and camera movements (such as the slow close-up to Elizabeth at Essex's execution). He is helped masterfully by Erich Wolfgang Korngold's lavish score, which shifts from majestic to intimate to tragic with equal ease.

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex is both lavish historic film and intimate love story. Excellently acted and grand to a T, it is worth watching these private lives.

DECISION: B+

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1960): A Review

THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon sponsored by Journeys in Classic Film and Musings of a Classic Film Addict. Today's star is Buster Keaton.

I find it most curious that The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is thought of in rather pleasant and sweet terms given that it is remarkably dark. Tom Sawyer may be more nostalgic but Huckleberry Finn is a tale revolving around the great sin of America: slavery. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn keeps a pretty good balance between the original story and the more familiar if erroneous watering-down version. Mostly well-acted albeit perhaps too focused on secondary characters, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn holds up surprisingly well.

Young Huckleberry Finn (Eddie Hodges) wants to be good but does not want to be civilized. His Pap (Neville Brand) abuses him something awful and threatens to take him away from the Widow Douglas (Josephine Hutchinson) unless she gives him $500. Pap says that 'that n****r Jim (Archie Moore)' could fetch that much at a slave auction.

Jim is not about to be sold and Huck, having faked his death, is yearning to travel. More out of necessity than a desire to help Jim get to free territory, Huck agrees to go with Jim down the Mississippi. As they sail down Old Man River, they get involved with "The Duke of Bilgewater" (Mickey Shaughnessy) and "The King of France" (Tony Randall), two cons attempting to bilk two orphans out of money. More twists and turns involving Pap, the Duke and King along with a journey to the Circus run by Mr. Carmody (Andy Devine) and The Lion Tamer (Buster Keaton) ensue.

At long last, Huck manages to finally outwit the Duke and King, Jim arrives in Illinois where he is free and Huck, declining an offer to stay with Jim, takes the raft to an oncoming steamship and new adventures.


Perhaps because of the time period The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was made, the entirety of Mark Twain's masterpiece could not be filmed, particularly if one is aiming for a general family audience. As such, this may be a reason why the Duke and King were made the antagonists, two foils to provide our heroes with difficulties to overcome.

My memory of the novel had them take up only a small space and they met a rather awful fate: tarred and feathered, evoking a sense of genuine pity within Huck and the reader. In this film version, they took a more central position, which here I think was a wise idea given that it also altered the ending.

On the whole the changes were not bad and kept the story flowing, though it does not explain how the Duke and King managed to escape one situation to keep hounding Huck and Jim.

This also allows Tony Randall to take a more central position (he is the first billed actor), and he is appropriately sleazy and excessively courtly and mannered as the faux monarch. He does an exceptional job forever conning while simultaneously attempting to sound grand. At one point he tells his protege, "When you've got all the fools in town on your side, that's a big enough majority anywheres".

That should be the theme in any election.

Shaughnessy's Duke seemed a good match as the Duke, the more dimwitted stooge to his partner.

Hodges was absolutely delightful as Huck, and at age 12 the appropriate age for our hero. His mixture of innocence and shrewdness worked excellently to make Huck Finn a survivor, eager for adventure yet also scared.

The adaptation also allows us to see the evolution to Huck that Twain's novel gives us. He mentions how he doesn't want to be like those 'down-low abolitionists' but by the end he tells Jim that Jim hasn't sinned, except perhaps to run away from the Widow Douglas. And even that, he questions as being a sin. It's a positive sign to see a character change in his thinking.

In smaller roles Devine, Keaton and Patty McCormack as Joanna, one of the young marks, do well in their limited screentime. McCormack played Joanna like a shrewd old bird, aware that her "uncles" and "cousin" Percy were frauds.

It is unfortunate however that The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn did not allow Keaton to do any physical comedy with the lions. It seems like a lost opportunity to have even a little bit of humor, reducing Keaton to almost a mere cameo.

I think the only weak performance was Moore as Jim, but to be fair this was his big-screen debut after retiring from a major boxing career. He sometimes was a bit stiff in his line readings but it's a credit to director Michael Curtiz that Moore did pretty well for being a non-professional. He has a wonderful moment where he recounts his shame at having beaten his daughter for not obeying him, not realizing she was deaf.

It is difficult to recommend The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to children given the use of "n****r" in the film. Granted, it was said only once and by the reprehensible Pap but it still is troubling. This is a rare moment when I would offer the recommendation for the film to redub the dialogue. However, with enough vim and vigor, some nice comic moments (of particular note, Huck's drag act) and a story that flows well, I think The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn works well enough.

DECISION: B-

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+

Young Man With a Horn: A Review

YOUNG MAN WITH A HORN

This review is part of the Summer Under the Stars Blogathon. Today's star is Lauren Bacall.

Young Man with a Horn is a thinly disguised biopic of Bix Biederbecke, a troubled jazz cornet player. Unlike Biederbecke, we get a happy ending.  We see some great performances, some very interesting subtext and all that jazz.

Willie Willoughby, better known as 'Smoke' (Hoagy Carmichael), tells us the story, both in voiceover and directly to the camera in the beginning and end.  Rick Martin had a troubled childhood: both parents dead by age 10, cared by a sister who wasn't that involved.  Rick began wandering away from school and life until he came upon a Rescue Mission and heard the piano.

Starting to play, he finds himself a bit of a prodigy, but it's when he hears the trumpet that Rick believes he's found his calling.  He soon starts being mentored by Art Hazzard (Juano Hernandez), a trumpeter who sees potential and trouble in Martin.

Rick (Kirk Douglas) soon starts showing his talent at various clubs and orchestras, but he also wants to play jazz 'his' way.  This method does not jive well with Jack Chandler's Dance Orchestra, which Chandler insists plays dance music in the same way for the audiences' benefit, not for artistic aspirations.  Rick's talent and genius attract Smoke and Jo Jordan (Doris Day), the band's singer, into being his friend.

After Rick does an impromptu jazz bit with other orchestra members, Rick's fired.  Jo, however, uses her influence to get him into another band, one that welcomes a trumpet soloist if he can rein himself in, which he does.  Jo also introduces Rick to one of her best friends, Amy Woods (Lauren Bacall), a beautiful, somewhat haughty and mysterious woman.  Rick is instantly taken with Amy, but there's something about Amy that we can't peg.

Jo warns Rick that Amy is "a strange girl", who is "all mixed-up inside", but it's too late: they've married.  Amy wants Rick to be more refined and high-class, not mix so much with juke joints and people like Art Hazzard, who is still playing though not at the strength he used to.  Rick soon struggles between his love for Amy and his love for the trumpet, whom Amy calls his 'alter ego'.

Eventually, things give way, especially since we get the strong suggestion that Amy may have designs on her fellow female student.  The end of his marriage sends Rick on a downward spiral where even his trumpet fails him.  A bout with alcoholism and depression wreck him more, along with guilt about how he dismissed Art before his death in a car accident.

Ultimately though, with the love and support of Smoke and Jo, Rick returns to be a better human than trumpet player.

Young Man With a Horn is a surprise in many ways.  First, it comes from director Michael Curtiz, perhaps the most underappreciated director in history.  The man could direct everything from romantic melodrama like Casablanca to lavish musicals like Yankee Doodle Dandy to action films like The Adventures of Robin Hood to horror films like Mystery of the Wax Museum to strong dramas like this. 

As such, Curtiz brings certain elements that showed subtext.  One involves mirrors.  Almost every time we see Amy, we see her reflected in a mirror, as if Curtiz is suggesting that she is presenting an image, not the real person or even if she is real herself. 

Another is the 'lesbian' bit.  There is no overt mention that Amy is lesbian or even bisexual, but there is again enough subtext to let audiences fill in the idea if they wish to see it.  There is Jo's declarations of how Amy is 'strange' and 'all mixed-up inside'.  There's Amy's own affection for her other female friend, and a very telling bit of dialogue from Carl Foreman and Edward H. North, when Amy comments on how simple Jo's life is because she knows 'which door (she's going) to walk through'.

One can read that line as saying Amy envies Jo's straightforward life, but it could also mean that Jo, unlike Amy, goes only one way sexually versus Amy's 'confused' manner.

Another aspect that separates Young Man With a Horn from other films is the positive portrayal of African-Americans in the film. Art Hazzard is a mentor to Rick, almost a father figure. There is no suggestion that Rick thinks himself superior, and when Amy seems about to suggest something racist against Art, Rick flies into a rage.

One can quibble whether Hernandez's somewhat noble and patient Art is a step forward for African-Americans on screen or an early indication of the 'Magical Negro', though I would say it isn't since Art does not resolve anything for Rick.

One surprise in the acting department is Carmichael, known better as a songwriter who wrote such hits as Stardust and Georgia on My Mind. Carmichael carved a good career as a supporting actor in film, usually playing a jaded or cynical musician, though not as jokey as say an Oscar Levant.  Carmichael holds his own against the cast as the guide to our story, bringing a world-weariness yet compassionate nature to Smoke. 

Interestingly, Carmichael knew Beiderbecke, the inspiration for Young Man With a Horn.  His friendship with the real 'young man with a horn' and his own musical experience more than likely informed Carmichael's performance.

Granted, I wasn't thrilled with the voiceover or having Smoke speak directly to us at the beginning and end, but one can't have everything.

Douglas managed to keep that volcanic over-acting that sometimes plagues his performances and makes Rick a talented man too in love with music to care for anything else only to get hurt when he slips for Amy.  He isn't raging like he is in other films that at times make his characters come across as hysterical or crazed, but here he seems genuine and at times rational.

Bacall keeps to being a cool to cold customer, one who is forever seeking and never satisfied.  She is almost sympathetic in her snobbery and yet obscure in her true self.  Day seems a little ill-at-ease in this drama, a bit unsteady.  However, as Young Man With a Horn was not just her fourth film overall but her first straight drama far from the more frothy musicals or comedies she started out with, Day acquitted herself quite well.  She shined when she sang, but she also showed her potential as a dramatic actress, which she would develop further.

Day was also fortunate to team up again with Curtiz in their third collaboration.  Having guided Day in musicals and comedies, she benefited from his expertise in this drama.

An element not mentioned often enough is trumpeter Harry James, who played the music, showcasing his versatility and why he was popular in the big band era.

Young Man With a Horn has the positives of strong performances, an interesting story and some wonderful music.  Perhaps the voiceover and direct narration, along with the happy-type ending may not be completely believable, but on the whole a worthy picture.

Bix Beiderbecke
1903-1931

DECISION: B+

Casablanca (1943): A Review

 

CASABLANCA (1943)

A Perfect Film As Time Goes By...

I remember very well the first time I came across Casablanca.  I had heard much about Casablanca and knew it by reputation.  I decided to rent the VHS copy to see for myself what the big deal was about (I told you it was a long time ago).  As I watched Casablanca, I fell in love with it, completed my conversion to making film and/or film discussion a major part of my life, knew my life had been improved, and that I had seen perhaps the greatest film ever made. 

Casablanca has achieved such a legendary status as this Icon of Film one sometimes is afraid to approach it as just good entertainment.   However, one can easily forget "The Legend" of Casablanca and enjoy a film that has romance, drama, some action, and even a bit of comedy.

Let's go over the plot.  Two German couriers, carrying letters of transit, have been murdered.  Those letters will allow anyone in the French Moroccan city of Casablanca to leave the refugee-swarmed city, no questions asked.  Now, who HAS those letters?

Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart) is the owner of Rick's Cafe Americain in Casablanca (Rick's Cafe...I like the sound of that).   He's a cynical man (his motto being "I stick my neck out for no one").  Ugarte (Peter Lorre), a shady forger and criminal, informs Rick that he has those letters of transit and asks Rick to hold them for a few hours.  Rick agrees, but Ugarte is arrested immediately after by orders of Nazi Major Strasser (Conrad Veidt) and the Prefect of Police of unoccupied France, Captain Louis Renault (Claude Rains). 

Renault and Rick, who have a cordial relationship, strike a bet that one of the Third Reich's greatest enemies will be able to escape Strasser and go on to America.  It is Resistance leader Victor Lazlo (Paul Henreid).  Rick thinks he will, Renault says he simply can't.  Complicating things for Lazlo is that he is travelling with a lady.

That lady is Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman).  We quickly discover that Ilsa and Rick had once been in love in Paris, but that she left him when the Nazis entered Paris, forcing a despondent, dejected Rick to flee.  Embittered by his abandonment, Rick now faces the return of The One.  Rick's friend and cafe bandleader Sam (Dooley Wilson) urges Rick to leave, but he won't.

Soon we learn Ilsa's secret: she is really Lazlo's wife.

Everyone is searching for those letters but no one knows where they are or who has them, or as Rick points out to his friendly business rival Ferrari (Sydney Greenstreet), "practically no one".  Lazlo asks, and even Ilsa returns demanding Rick hand them over.  Eventually she crumbles into his arms and tells him the whole story: she and Lazlo were secretly married but she thought Lazlo was dead when she and Rick began their romance only to discover he was alive right before Paris fell.  She tells Rick to do the thinking for all of them to decide what best to do.

Rick eventually makes his decision, leading to Strasser's death, Lazlo escaping and Rick and Ilsa realizing that 'we'll always have Paris', but never Casablanca.  Casablanca ends with the renewed freedom fighter Rick and the newly principled Renault walking away with Rick observing, "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Casablanca on many levels shouldn't work, primarily in that the story as told doesn't make sense.  Constant viewing (yes, I've lost track of the number of times I have seen it) allows for observation as to the things that are illogical or out of place.  The biggest flaw involves the letters of transit.  What we hear is that they are signed by General DeGaulle.  If that is the case, why would the Nazi officials respect letters of transit signed by the enemy?  Furthermore, it is highly unlikely that an anti-Nazi like Lazlo would be able to walk openly in front of Major Strasser while the collaborating Vichy regime simply did nothing.  We even can observe continuity issues: for example, it's obvious that Wilson is NOT playing the piano (Wilson in real life didn't) and that the rain at the Paris train station suddenly stops when Sam and Rick get on the train.

These things one becomes aware of over time, but on first viewing one simply doesn't notice any of that.  The credit goes all around, starting with director Michael Curtiz.  He moves the story quickly, and one sees that the film flows so smoothly one quickly gets a great deal of information without stopping.  Minus the newsreel-like opening that tells us about the plight of refugees and how they end up in Casablanca once the story starts it never loses momentum.

There are simply so many things that makes Casablanca such a brilliant film.  Curtiz set the mood so brilliantly with quick snippets.  For example, when we first enter Rick's Cafe Americain the camera flows to hit various tables.  We get quick bits showing the shady dealings and desperate plight of refugees without lingering long on them, but just enough to give us the atmosphere of the place.

An argument could be made that Casablanca was pre-film noir, with the lighting in particular.  Casablanca isn't a noir film, but we see touches of it. 

Again and again Curtiz creates the atmosphere and mood without going into long exposition.  He directs the scenes to tell us just what we need to know and nothing more.

When it comes to the performances, you simply have a brilliant cast that knew HOW to act.  Let's start with Humphrey Bogart as the cynical Rick.  Casablanca was a complete change of pace for Bogart, for this is the first time he played a romantic lead.  Known before this film as a tough guy, Casablanca gave Bogart the chance to show he could play a man who used a cynical mask to hide a deeply vulnerable and hurt heart.

Bogart has a brilliant way with dialogue.  Take a look early in the film when he puts down Yvonne (Madeliene LeBeau), a casual girlfriend:

Yvonne: Where were you last night?

Rick: That's so long ago I don't remember.

Yvonne: Will I see you tonight?

Rick: I never make plans that far ahead. 

Again and again Bogart's delivery of his lines tell so much about Rick's cynicism and dark view of life.  However, we also see the broken and hurt man behind the tough exterior.  When Rick gives his "Of all the gin joints in all the town in all the world, she walks into mine," monologue, you see in his performance the agony of seeing the woman he loved but who left him come back into his life again.  His voice quivers when he tells Sam, "If she can stand it I can!  Play it," betraying his emotions are finally overwhelming him and that he can't lie to himself about the pain he tries to deny.

Rick is hurt and angry and broken at being forced to deal with his love for Ilsa and her betrayal (from his perspective).  Casablanca hangs on what Rick does since he has the letters of transit everyone is after.  We need to believe he doesn't care about anything or anyone, then we need to believe he loves Ilsa and then finally we need to believe he would sacrifice for her. 

Bogart's performance goes through this evolution from cynic to, as Renault tells him, "not only are you a sentimentalist but you've also become a patriot", all while maintaining a touch of his cynical and sarcastic tone.  When Renault basically congratulates him by saying he's a patriot, Rick's glib answer is, "Seemed like a good time to start."  Bogart is simply brilliant as the man who loved, lost, and in the end won a moral victory by sacrificing himself for the greater good.    

Then again, who wouldn't sacrifice everything for her?  Ingrid Bergman to her dying day claimed to not understand what all the fuss over Casablanca was about.  She never thought it was one of her best films or her best performances.  Even while making it Bergman felt that Casablanca was holding her up from a more prestigious project: the film version of Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bells Toll.  In fact, she couldn't wait to finish Casablanca to move on to FWTBT, so much so that as soon as filming wrapped she cut her hair for her new part.  This made retakes impossible, but it ended up being a blessing in disguise in that Casablanca was now locked with not just her performance but also, curiously enough, with the music (more on that later).

Let's take Bergman at her word and assume she was basically sleepwalking through Casablanca.  If that's the case, then we see that Bergman even in her off days was simply more talented than most actresses are when they're on all cylinders.  Ilsa's own hurt when Rick all but calls her a whore is agonizing, but she also projects warmth and strength when dealing with Rick or Lazlo or even Strasser. 

Paul Henreid was not happy with the part of Lazlo and with good reason.  His Lazlo is a man of high principles, so much so that he becomes such a stiff one wonders why exactly Ilsa would ever think her choice would be hard.  However, even Henreid has his moment: when he leads the club band to play La Marseillaise to drown out the Germans singing Watch on the Rhine it becomes such an inspiring moment that only a leader like Victor Lazlo could get away with it and make it believable.  That is a particularly powerful moment, so powerful that one imagines even devout Francophobes like Sean Hannity would cheer the French national anthem as a song of defiance against tyranny.

I confess to being biased when it comes to picking my favorite character and favorite performance in Casablanca.  I'm a hopeless Claude Rains fan, and Captain Renault is the perfect blend of comedy and sophistication.  Throughout Casablanca, Rains' Renault manages to play all sides, and one really never knows where he stands in regards to whom he favors: the Allies or the Axis.  Even though he wasn't billed as one of the stars, it's obvious that Rains ran away with the film.  That guessing game, along with his great rapport with Bogart's Rick, makes Captain Renault one of the most delightful characters in film: witty, devious, insincere to the Nth degree, but always with a bit of humor to the proceedings.

It also helps in my Renault-love that he has the best line in Casablanca.  For those who've never seen it, his reaction to being "shocked, SHOCKED" is both instantly recognizable (that line being one of many that has entered the popular lexicon) and just deliberately funny.

Here is where I'd like to segway a little into one of the best things about Casablanca: the screenplay by twins Julius J. & Phillip G. Epstein and Howard Koch.  Again and again there is so much subtext in the dialogue: while the characters may be saying one thing it's clear they mean something else.  There are a wide variety of examples: when Rick mentions to Ugarte that he'd heard the two murdered couriers were carrying letters of transit, he doesn't flat-out say Ugarte killed them, but we figure that's what he meant.  Before Ugarte is arrested, he asks the police, "May I first please cash my chips?" Subtle, don't you think?

It isn't just in the dialogue (even though it is brilliant) but also in what is implied.  Major Strasser and his aide Colonel Heinz (Richard Ryen) are asking Rick about what he thinks of German invasions.  Asked if he can imagine the Germans in London, Rick replies, "When you get there, ask me."  When asked about New York, Rick tells Strasser that there are certain parts of New York he'd advise against invading.   Later on, a drunk Rick asks Sam, "If it's December 1941 in Casablanca, what time is it in New York?"  Sam's noncommital answer is that his watch's stopped.  "I bet they're asleep in New York.  I bet they're asleep all over America."

This can be read many ways.  It may be referring to the peace of sleep Rick can't have because the woman he loved has suddenly appeared in his life again.  It also plainly could be a reference to how America was 'asleep' to the Nazi/Axis threat.  The genius of Casablanca is that so much is being said without overtly being spoken. 

Throughout the movie there are moments of wit, of humor, of romance lost, found, and redeemed without taking away from the overall story of people trying to get away. 

So many lines from Casablanca are now part of our everyday jargon...

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.

We'll always have Paris.

Here's looking at you, kid.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

that we don't even think about the source.  And this isn't even touching on both the most MISQUOTED line from Casablanca (Play it again, Sam, which is not in the film), and Bogart's farewell to Bergman at the airport.  His entire speech is perfection, the words, the delivery, the performance, the music.

Damn it, I'm not ashamed to admit it: I cry at this point no matter how often I see or even hear it.  And yes, I can mouth the lines, even Bergman's. 

Again and again, Casablanca is just perfect.  Just Perfect. 

Lest I forget two more great things about Casablanca.  We have Dooley Wilson as Rick's piano player/friend Sam.  Today we don't even think about the fact that Sam is black, but I imagine in 1942-43 it is out of the ordinary to see a prominent role for an African-American, more so in that Sam is basically an equal to everyone else. 

I also need to mention Max Steiner's score, which like most of his work is top-notch.  As I mentioned before, Bergman's decision to rush off to For Whom The Bells Toll forced Steiner to keep As Time Goes By, the love song between Rick and Ilsa, in the film, rather than have an original song.  Steiner integrates As Time Goes By into the score so seemlessly one can't believe that the song wasn't written for Casablanca.  Wilson's delivery of As Time Goes By is so tender and beautiful it becomes a definitive love song.  However, the rest of Steiner's score, in particular the music for the montage of Rick & Ilsa's romance in Paris, is equally romantic.  The fact that the music serves to underscore an almost all-silent montage and sets the mood so beautifully is a credit to everyone: Steiner's music, Curtiz's direction, and Bogart & Bergman's acting.

There are a few things I will criticize Casablanca for.  Bergman at one point refers to Sam by asking about "the boy playing the piano", a cringe-worthy moment today (however, as I've mentioned having a sympathetic African-American character where race is unimportant was almost avant-garde by the standards of the time).  There are also a couple of lines that are typical of over-stylized 1940s writing.  When Rick and Ilsa hear the cannons approaching Paris, she asks, "Is that cannon fire, or the sound of my heart pounding?"  There is also strange leaps of logic in terms of geography regarding the airport: it shifts from being out in the desert to being right in front of Rick's Cafe, which in hindsight is laughable and illogical.

Despite all these flaws, Casablanca is still a film that is simply brilliant and whose errors can be both forgiven and forgotten.  Why?  Because the acting (from Rains' delightfully duplicitous official to Bogart and Bergman's ill-fated lovers) is too good.  Because the core story (being better to have loved and lost than not loved at all) is too good.  Because it flows so quickly that one almost doesn't notice the story takes place over a mere three nights (!) with one flashback.  Because As Time Goes By fits so beautifully and because it is a beautiful love song that sets the mood so well.  Because its themes of standing for what is right, even if one must sacrifice personal happiness, still evokes that emotional reaction.

Rick and Ilsa Will Always Have Paris.

 

We Will Always Have Casablanca. 

Please Visit the Best Picture Retrospective for reviews of all films that won the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Science's highest award.

1944 Best Picture Winner: Going My Way

DECISION: A+

White Christmas: A Review (Review #10)

WHITE CHRISTMAS

That Old White Christmas Has Me In Its Spell...

I have never liked Danny Kaye. Perhaps that is why I had not seen White Christmas until now. I now see how wrong I was to have waited so long just because I have a dislike for one of the stars. What I found was a sweet, charming, light, and delightful musical, one that is unashamed in its desire to entertain and doing it so well.

In Christmas 1944 on the European front, Captain/song-and-dance man Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) is entertaining the troops along with Private Phil Davis (Danny Kaye). Davis saves his life  and from that schemes his way into making the already-established Wallace make him his showbiz partner. After the war, the double-act is a hit, and they get into producing. As part of that work, they scout the Haynes Sisters act, Judy (Vera-Ellen) and Betty (Rosemary Clooney). Judy and Phil are apparently in cahoots to get Betty and Bob together, and Bob is hoodwinked into going to a Vermont ski resort with the girls.

Coincidentally (as coincidentally as any musical would make it), the inn is run by their former commanding general who's fallen on hard times. The old Army buddies decide to put on a show to help the general out. Soon romance begins for Bob & Betty (love the names), but, in the tradition of all good musical comedies, a classic case of misunderstanding takes place that separates the lovers. Eventually, it's all cleared up, allowing the lovers to reunite and sing White Christmas one more time.

White Christmas gleefully is what it pretends to be: a film where the plot is just an excuse to have big musical numbers and revel in the non-reality of them. Take the number Snow. Here, the leads sing in a dining train car about what they're going to do when they get to the lodge and see 'snow'. It's so nice to see a film where people sing to describe their plans without it being considered odd and being unapologetic about it. Writers Norman Krasna, Norman Panama and Melvin Frank trust the audience to know they are not trying to be 'realistic' and to go along with the ride.

It is hard to believe that there could be a barn in Vermont big enough to host such a lavish number like the Minstrel medley, complete with sets and a full orchestra with backup dancers. Like other musicals of its time, it wasn't going for strict logic as it was for entertainment value. In this, it is a brilliant success.

As a side note, the Minstrel number has no blackface, which is a relief.

It's obvious in the film that Crosby is not a dancer. He certainly wouldn't have been able to do the The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing number that is a showcase for Kaye and Vera-Ellen. However, he certainly shows his charm with his duet with Clooney in Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep). Clooney has her own highlight with Love, You Didn't Do Right By Me, looking so elegant as she sings of a broken heart. Both versions of Sisters with Clooney/Vera-Ellen and Crosby/Kaye are excellent, and the latter a moment for Crosby to match comic skills with Kaye.

White Christmas also has the always reliable Mary Wickes as the general's wife. It is also more evidence for the case that director Michael Curtiz should be thought of with higher regard and should be remembered by people as a master of all genres.

My only slight complaint is the Choreography number. It reminds me why I find Kaye so irritating. His habit of making faces, his vocalization and rubbery body movements that many find endearing I only find annoying. Still, that's a minor issue that I'm willing to overlook.

White Christmas the movie is exactly like White Christmas the song: sweet, gentle, and nostalgic. White Christmas is a beautiful, lovely film. As for Danny Kaye? I'm still not a fan, but I gladly make an exception in this case.

DECISION: A-