Another one of these fashionable dramatized true stories, this about how Prince Andrew was suckered into a live TV interview. The importance of the various women involved is good. The cast is good but I have to say, so what?
Billie Piper, Gillian Anderson, Romola Garai, Keeley Hawes, Rufus Sewell, Conor Swindells, Kate Fleetwood, Amanda Redman.
Written by Peter Moffat and Geoff Bussetil, from 'Scoops' by Sam McAlister.
Shot by Nanu Segal, edited by Kristina Hetherington (The Duke).
What a mass of European talent enriched Hollywood in the 1930s and 40s. Though foreign talent had been welcomed in the twenties, with the likes of Lubitsch, von Stroheim, Murnau, Sjöström and Mamoulian changing the film landscape, bringing a European sensibility and subtlety, it was later with the influx of refugees that Europe became absolutely entrenched in Hollywood product - it's rare to find a film of this era without immigrant names both behind and in front of the camera. Film scores particularly became owned by the Germans - Steiner, Korngold, Friedhofer, Waxman - here it's Adolph Deutsch (orchestrated by Murray Cutter) providing the marvellously moody score to underline Huston and Koch's dark screenplay, the story of three losers who meet and share a sweepstake ticket under the gaze of a mysterious oriental statue. (I love the way its eyes do seem to open in the crucial moment, cunningly filmed by Arthur Edeson.)
But where are my manners? It's intriguing right from the off as Geraldine Fitzgerald knows she's being followed by Sidney Greenstreet and immediately invites him up to her's - I say! He's somewhat put out to find louche Peter Lorre there as well, before getting involved in the spell of Kwan Yin... Only then do we follow their individual stories of doom, featuring Joan Lorring again, Robert Shayne, Marjorie Riordan, Arthur Shields again, Rosalind Ivan, Peter Whitney (the other crook) and Alan Napier. The Lorre-Lorring relationship is the sweetest thing about this tangy concoction.
Negulesco - should you wonder - was Romanian, originally an artist.
I rather enjoyed this despite its 5.8 IMDB Rating. A woman - let's call her Viveca Lindfors - emerges crying from a somewhat creepy Florida beach house (and by that I mean a house on the sea shore) and bumps into doctor Ronald Reagan, who's come to look it over with a view to renting it - the meet cute. It turns out she is still hearing her dead husband talking to her, whilst he has the dreaded Hollywood Mysterious Illness. He quickly befriends neighbour Broderick Crawford and wife Rosemary DeCamp, and receives the unwelcome attention of her sister Osa Massen, who's a really vile character with an unaccountable Danish accent. Lillian Yarbo is the faithful maid and Erksine Sanford appears as a doctor. It has a marvellously inconclusive ending.
It's beautifully shot by J. Peverall Marley (Siegel likes to track in a lot, so it's a mobile camera) and benefits from a fine score from Franz Waxman, orchestrated by Leonid Raab.
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| Sanford and Massen, who's had three too many |
Siegel thought it was 'woefully miscast', badly written with 'pretentious dialogue' and an incomprehensible story. He and Viveca fell in love during the filming.
Don's debut having risen from the head of the montage department at Warners, where he created 'thousands' of them. It's a historical thriller written by Peter Milne, based on the novel 'The Big Bow Mystery' (1892) by Israel Zangwill, who was a British born writer and supporter of Jewish causes, and wrote an influential play 'The Melting Pot' about the experiences of a Russian immigrant in America.
Anyway, Scotland Yard Superintendent Sidney Greenstreet is understandably upset when a man he has tried and executed turns out to be not guilty. He is dismissed and replaced by George Coulouris. Greenstreet's best friend is Peter Lorre, who lives in a house opposite with two bitter enemies (of each other), Morton Lowry and politician Paul Kavanagh, and when the former is killed, Greenstreet is on the case as much as his newly appointed rival. Into the foggy London mix comes singer Joan Lorring (who also appeared with Greenstreet and Lorre in Three Strangers). Arthur Shields also makes a brief appearance.
I love that laugh of Greenstreet's - it sort of erupts, bellows.
Our Spanish print is I fear darker than Ernie Haller would have liked it, but it makes for a creepy setting of low lit rooms and streets, further unsettled by Friedrich Hollander's music (orchestrated by Leonid Raab).
Siegel brings a certain sweep to proceedings, using tricks no doubt learned from montage work. He was, I read, a very economical director, something he passed on to young Clint.
In a 1968 interview with Peter Bogdanovich, Siegel said that Greenstreet would know every line, whilst Lorre would have no idea what film he was doing, and would just pick it up in rehearsals. "These two incredibly different people, from opposite worlds with the opposite approach to their work, would make poetry together."
Why do we now need an eight hour version of Ritchie's OK film?
Theo James inherits the Estate (and all within), that's Kaya Scodelario as his business partner (both good). Daniel Ings is the permanent fuck-up brother, Ruby Sear the sister, Joely Richardson mum. With Ray Winstone, Vinnie Jones, Chanel Cresswell, Peter Serafinowicz, Giancarlo Espoito.
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| Don't look at the camera! |
Never finished it.
Ben Barzman screenplay very loosely based on Emlyn Williams play (which takes place after the execution). Alcoholic Michael Redgrave knows his son Alec McCowen (Frenzy, Travels with My Aunt) didn't kill his girlfriend but has scant time to prove it before he's executed. He knows it's something to do with a family he was close with: friend Paul Daneman, mother Ann Todd and father, an outbursty Leo McKern. I think the fact that we are shown the identity of the killer in the opening is a mistake, but it builds to a reasonably gripping conclusion, though somewhat daft. My Cinema One Losey retrospective thoughtfully doesn't contain an index, so what Losey himself had to say, I can't (be bothered to) tell you.
With Peter Cushing, Renee Houston, Lois Maxwell (the 'secretary' of McKern - didn't recognise her), Joan Plowright.
Constant clocks and noises, Redgrave slipping into alcoholic black-outs, all add flavour. Freddie Francis is on camera (with Arthur Ibbetson operating). The rather noisy music is from Tristram Cary. It was an independent Harlequin production.
Cannes Palme D'Or winner.
Did German Sandra Hüller kill her French husband Samuel Theis? Their son Milo Machado-Graner is able to shed a little light, and barrister Swann Arlaud does his best to defend her. The fact that she is an author who by her own admission likes to mix fiction and reality together doesn't help matters.
One thing's for sure: if my husband kept playing the same maddening song over and over again at top volume, I would have bashed his head in myself.
I must say Messi as Snoop plays his part brilliantly. He won the Palm Dog.
It's quite talky but a not uninteresting film, rather long (2 hours 20). I didn't find it as rave-worthy as everyone else, though you have to accept that Triet and Arthur Harari's Oscar- and BAFTA-winning original screenplay does keep throwing out interesting twists and turns.
Almost a Bresson (no music).
Written by Jean Genet. A frustrated school teacher is setting fires in a small French village. She identifies a hunky Italian who sleeps around, and is cruel to his son in school. Then she has a wild night in the woods with the man. But then claims he's raped her, inciting the wrath of the villagers... What's going on? Did she want him and then want him out of the way so she could pretend it didn't happen? A strange story then, given top arthouse treatment. David Watkin's photography of the French countryside is refulgent, Tony Gibbs' editing brilliant (notice he gets a full screen credit) - there's even a sequence, one of those strange back-forward editing fold-ins (whatever that means) that is so recognisably Gibbsian - he is one of the only editors I can think of who has a recognisable style.
Dubbed English is distracting - presumably it was also filmed in French.
Jeanne Moreau is great. The Italian is Ettore Manni and his son is actually English - Keith Skinner.
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| Excellent use of the widescreen also |
A Woodfall production, One of Richardson and Gibbs' six collaborations. I'll know more when I've read Richardson's book.
Ryusuke Hamaguchi's Short Stories.
Episode 1: Magic (or Something Less Certain)
In his usual long take back of car style, two girls gossip about a man who one of them is seeing. It turns out the other one is his ex.
Kotone Furukawa, Ayumu Nakajima, Hyunri.
They're all about people connecting, and it's well worth watching if you like long, slow, talky Japanese films! It won the Silver Bear at Berlin.
Pain in the arse (but highly decorated) Gunnery Sergeant Highway (I know) returns to his final post as a marine corps trainer. Luckily he's the toughest sonofabitch amongst them all, something that's established right at the outset in jail. Then he meets up with petty thief / guitarist Mario van Peebles, who of course turns out to be one of his troops. (if I had a complaint with the film it's that he is just a bit too much.) Meanwhile he chums up with ex Marsha Mason again. Clint saw it as a comedy about a super-macho man who's as thick as shit.
It's a very traditional film, really. He of course makes his unit the best one, even defeating arrogant commanding officer Everett McGill, then takes them into battle where they are gloriously successful. The screenplay by James Carabatsos was uncredited substantially rewritten by Joe Stinson (according to the director).
It's most entertaining, particularly in Clint's refusal to accept his superior's authority, and in his attempts to learn a modern approach to relationships via magazines.
Music Lennie Niehaus, photography Jack Green, editor Joel Cox, gaffer Tom Stern.
With Moses Gunn, Eileen Heckart. Boyd Gaines good value as Lieutenant with no experience but who gamely makes the best of it.
Russell brings a wonderful fluidity to this, assisted by Masanobu Takayanagi's highly mobile camera and vibrant editing from the great Jay Cassidy (and Crispin Struthers) - as evidenced for example in the really fast pull away from the couple right at the end. Thus the medical condition Bradley Cooper (and to some extent his dad Robert de Niro) faces is made more vivid. Great acting all round - Jennifer Lawrence won Oscar.
With Jacki Weaver, Chris Tucker, Apunam Kher, John Ortiz, Shea Whigham, Julia Stiles, Paul Herman (de Niro's gambling friend).
Loved the way Hudson keeps leaping out at Cooper running. Also the scene where she totally convinces de Niro she's a lucky talisman.
This wasn't quite as fresh and original as I was hoping. The point of difference I suppose is that the Catholic girls are sex-starved and by no means virgins, either. They spend what seems like a long afternoon in Edinburgh getting up to various jinks. They are Abigail Lawrie, Rona Morison, Marli Siu, Talullah Greive and Sally Messham. Kate Dicke as fun as the not too bad nun. Written by Alan Sharp and Caton-Jones, from Alan Warner's novel.
Not sure the fake 'where are they now' ending is useful. Did American Graffiti do that first?
It's a sneaky bastard, and an atypical Wilder film.
Unusually, Marlene is guilty of some overacting. You would have thought that she and Billy being old friends from the Berlin days he would have got exactly what he wanted from her, but I think in the courtroom scenes she just goes too far (as does Tyrone Power). It was she who wanted the part and asked Billy to direct it.
But... "Marlene was coached how to speak Cockney, by Noel Coward, who was a close friend of hers". He didn't do a very good job.
Charles Laughton is well supported by Ian Wolfe, Elsa Lanchester, John Williams and Henry Daniell; Una O'Connor is the dead woman's maid, and the lady in question is Norma Varden (The Major and the Minor, Strangers on a Train).
The Old Bailey is by Alexander Trauner. Shot by Russell Harlan, edited by Daniel Mandell, music by Matty Malneck.
Billy and Izzy's film was reviled on release - you can see why - it sails on uncomfortable waters (if that doesn't mix up too many metaphors). But actually there's a fair bit to unpick. For example, it isn't Ray Walston's idea to entice visiting star 'Dino' with his 'wife' (Wilder's changing identities theme revisited) - in fact the Dean Martin character emerges as the only wholly unlikeable one. (Cliff Osmond's isn't much better.) And in a plot switch, Walston is finally unable to cope with his 'wife' being seduced, and throws Dino out - by this time he is actually seeing Kim Novak as his real wife, in a bizarre turn of plot - and she of course loves being Mrs Suburbia, for a change. Thus the aberrant sexual politics are corrected. And we are to suppose that his real wife, Felicia Farr, also enjoys her night of being 'Polly the Pistol'. It's actually divinely plotted.
And as always there's a whole gallery of marvellous props (including a TV store and a parrot) which are plot points, notably the mannequin of his wife which in a great scene seems to haunt him (thus the intriguing shot where he shuts it away, not behind one door but three). And the scene with the grapefruit half - a reference to Cagney and Mae Clarke in Public Enemy.
It's got that clockwork plot mechanism thing going on in which nothing is wasted, with a great Previn score to meld it together. Filmed by La Shalle, edited by Daniel Mandell, production design Alexandre Trauner, assoc prod Doane Harrison.
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| Knowing she had something of a reputation, Wilder put her in her place right from the off, then treated her 'like Garbo'. She didn't give him any trouble* |
The critics hated it - but to put that into perspective, most of them had hated The Apartment too...
* Maurice Zolotow, 'Billy Wilder in Hollywood'.
Shifting points of view: the film seems to be about the two boys who are left at hard-as-nails Grandmothers'; though Richard Dreyfuss is top-billed, his story is really peripheral; and what emerges really is the journey of the sister, Mercedes Ruehl. 1940s Yonkers. Following the death of their mother, Brad Stoll (himself tragically to die of cancer aged only 20) and Mike Damus are dumped in the home of Irene Worth (a great performance - they're all good, actually. Coolidge is only known to us from Out At Sea and ended up mainly on TV), a German with a personality of iron. Ruehl is child-like, her brother is a petty criminal, Dreyfuss in unusually tough role.
Simon came from parents with a stormy marriage. The father would leave home for extended periods and the mother took in boarders, meaning the boys (Neil had an older brother Danny) were sometimes palmed off on relatives - thus the autobiographical element to the story (play first, then film).
It's nicely designed by David Chapman and photographed by Johnny Jensen, with a terrific Elmer Bernstein score.
A film for grown ups. Young American artist Jean Seberg's experiences of love in France. She dates a terribly annoying man Phillippe Fourquet, and after a really awful near seduction in a cheap and freezing hotel room, he admits he's only sixteen. Then she's having affair with Jack Hedley, but he goes off with a Greek. Stanley Baker's itinerant journalist becomes her beau, but he can leave her for a North African tour for three months and expect her to wait for him. But after a heart to heart with her visiting father, who proclaims her paintings have become actually worse than they were, she settles down with a San Francisco surgeon. (You sort of know that marriage isn't going to work out.) This all from two Irwin Shaw short stories, 'In the French Style' and 'A Year to Learn the Language' (he wrote dozens of them).
Has traces of New Wavery to it. e.g. dizzying rides on back of French boy's scooter, 'wild' party (did parties like that ever really happen?)
It has a melancholy air to it. Nicely photographed and edited by Michel Kelber and Renée Lichtig (all the crew are French) and good music from Joseph Kosma. Jane Eakin did the paintings.
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| Fourquet was actually 22! |
Seberg was based in France from 1959 when she met her first husband while filming Bonjour Tristesse. She returned to Hollywood in the late sixties but we all know what happened then, and she died in Paris in 1979.
An unusual and tough British drama from HUAC refugee Cy Endfield, billed here as 'C. Ryker Endfield', who adapted John Kruse's short story and they share the screenplay billing. Ex-con Stanley Baker joins a tough crew of haulage drivers whose principle financial motivation is speed. 'Red', Patrick McGoohan in intense form, is the speed king and informal leader of the pack. Interesting cast comprises Herbert Lom, Peggy Cummins, William Hartnell, Wilfred Lawson, Sid James, Jill Ireland, Alfie Bass, Gordon Jackson, David McCallum, Sean Connery and Marjorie Rhodes.
Geoffrey Unsworth shoots it in gritty black and white, with the odd bit of film speeding up here and there.
Baker and Endfield were united for Zulu. The quality of Baker's films nose-dived in the seventies; he died too young at 48 in 1976.
