James A. FitzPatrick’s Traveltalks: Romantic Riviera (1953) (short)
Production: MGM
Hitting all the hot spots along the French Ree-vee-air-a (as pronounced by Fitz), including Nice, Cannes and a rather charming little town called St. Paul, which sits in the foothills of the Maritime Alps. In contrast to the casinos and boulevards of the Cote d’Azur, in St. Paul, locals play some kind of ball game, where the object is to bowl a big ball as close to a previously bowled smaller ball without touching it. Naturally, thousands of people turn out for tournaments. France! Am I right, folks? Also in St. Paul, they don’t drive, the ‘roads’ are too narrow. In a rare glimpse at Fitz’s mental state, he enviously tells us that the people of St. Paul may not have modern conveniences, but they do have peace of mind. Overall, a bit scattershot and light on genuine sights.

out of 4
Cecil B. DeMille: American Epic (2004) Dir: Kevin Brownlow
Production: Photoplay Productions/TCM
Excellent, well-rounded look at a very definite character from Hollywood’s history. No hagiography here, while DeMille’s work is given mostly respectful treatment the film does not shy away from the complexities and contradictions that made the man different things to different people; both tyrant and great to work for, great father and bad husband (let’s call it an unconventional marriage), respected and reviled by colleagues. We see his beginnings and the key lasting influence of impresario David Belasco. There’s an interesting story about DeMille’s early flirtation with, and admiration of, communism. Also, lesser known today is that DeMille was seen as washed up by 1931, much like Griffith, and it was THE SIGN OF THE CROSS and CLEOPATRA that marked his second coming. Some of the modern talking heads include Martin Scorsese, Steven Speilberg and Elmer Bernstein and in archive footage we hear from among others, Gloria Swanson, dancer Agnes de Mille (his niece), Sam Goldwyn and a brief, hilarious anecdote from Henry Hathaway. Swanson tells the story of being sent into a lion pit to shoot a scene while DeMille stood by holding a gun. There is also a great behind-the-scenes look at the ‘parting of the red sea’ effect (and the two MASSIVE tanks used to accomplish it). Kenneth Branagh narrates.



out of 4
A Crime Does Not Pay Subject No. 27: Know Your Money (1940) (short) Dir: Joseph M. Newman
Production: MGM
Oooh, exciting! For the first time on any screen we are privileged to see “actual reproductions of United States currency.” Counterfeit money is the subject and we take a look at a typical criminal ring. The key differences between real notes and phony money are highlighted--after all, it’s up to you vigilant viewer to ‘know your money’. One area this short series excels in is the procedural aspects of an investigation and the crime lab is in fine form here. I suppose if you don’t have time to watch the superior T-MEN, you could throw this on, it’s a digest version of the same story, more or less.


out of 4
1939 (2009) Dir: Constantine Nasr
Production: New Wave Entertainment/TCM
Nice doc on the so-called “greatest year” in Hollywood history. There’s a decent attempt at putting the prolific year in context; the time between the decline of the escapist depression-era pictures of the 30’s and the rise of the more mature themes of the war years amounts to a clearly demarcated one or two years from which sprang a cycle of newfound variety and creativity informed by, among other things, European tensions and the rise of Nazism. Even if you don’t buy that something in the social/political fabric was driving the uncommon burst of quality, the record is still rather amazing--it wasn’t just a good year for the studios, even the independent producers like Walter Wanger (STAGECOACH), Hal Roach (OF MICE AND MEN), Sam Goldwyn (WUTHERING HEIGHTS) and David Selznick (GWTW) were at the top of their game. Making the case are critics like Leonard Maltin, F.X. Feeney, Joe McBride and Molly Haskell as well as archival interviews with George Cukor, Frank Capra, Doug Fairbanks, Jr. and Maureen O’Hara. Among the more interesting assertions was a consideration of THE WIZARD OF OZ as ultimately an Arthur Freed production and a case to be made that UNION PACIFIC and JESSE JAMES had as much to do with the revival of the big budget, serious western as the often credited STAGECOACH. Mr. Documentary, Kenneth Branagh, narrates.


out of 4
John Nesbitt’s Passing Parade No. 58: Our Old Car (1946) (short) Dir: Cyril Endfield
Production: MGM
Nesbitt presents, in his inimitable royal “we” narration, the brief history of the automobile through the eyes of his own family’s history (or the history of his family according to the guy who wrote the script). Every time he says “you’ll recall” or “you’ll remember” you realize that most of the day’s audience really did recall the beginnings of the ‘horseless carriage’. We run the gamut of machines from the $850 Columbus Roadmaster in 1900, to the 1905 Holzman, the Stanley Steamer in 1910, the 1913 Model T and eventually, the modern sedan. Pleasant enough, but not much else. Weaker entry.

out of 4
Sweethearts (1938) Dir: W.S. Van Dyke
Production: MGM
Oh goodie, a Jeanette MacDonald-Nelson Eddy operetta. The sting is lifted a bit by the proceedings taking place in a present day Broadway setting. Nelson and Jeanette play Ernest Lane and Gwen Marlowe, the husband-and-wife stars of a smash Broadway revival of Victor Herbert’s Sweethearts. The night the production is celebrating its six year anniversary, Ernest and Gwen also celebrate their six year wedding anniversary. The Broadway grind and the persistent demands on their time has them thinking about leaving, alerting the attentions of a Hollywood studio, while the producer of their show, Felix Lehman (Frank Morgan), conspires to keep his cash cows from leaving.
SWEETHEARTS was MGM’s first Technicolor film and the big sensation was the public’s first look at MacDonald’s red hair. The picture looks quite good, there are even a handful of sweet shots of the city. As to our stars, Jeanette at least has a little spunk to her, Eddy on the other hand is just dull. Oddly enough, he reminded me of another drip, Gene Raymond, who MacDonald actually married, even though scuttlebutt was that she and Eddy were in love. Paging Dr. Freud! Anyway, when these things go wrong, it’s because they go too long with too many songs. Well, this picture is almost 2 hours, padded with 13 songs that I usually zonked out on about 30 seconds into each one. Occasionally the movie is brought to life by the supporting cast; Morgan of course, Herman Bing and Mischa Auer as the fictional bickering composer and librettist of Sweethearts, Ray Bolger does some Scarecrow-ish dancing in the opening number nearly stealing the film, Raymond Walburn and Gene Lockhart play boorish in-laws of Gwen and Ernest’s, and Terry Kilburn is funny as Gwen’s precocious, business-obsessed little brother. There is a bit during the ‘break-up over a mix-up’ scenes where the William Tell Overture is used that is reminiscent of Preston Sturges. It was also somewhat amusing to see a movie portray the Hollywood agents as buffoonish predators while anybody who would want to leave New York and the stage must be crazy (an obvious Dorothy Parker joke--she’s credited on the script).


out of 4
A Miniature: Master Will Shakespeare (1936) (short) Dir: Jacques Tourneur
Production: MGM
Carey Wilson narrates a brief but spirited look at the life of Shakespeare. We trace his beginnings in Stratford where his home still stands. Then we follow Will off to London where, like many a “budding Bernhardt treks her weary way to Hollywood only to bury her dreams beneath the uniform of a waitress”, he initially found work tending the horses of the Blackfriars Theatre patrons. Then a moment of serendipity--Will feeds his own lines to actors on stage who had forgotten theirs, to much acclaim. Command performances for Queen Bess (Elizabeth I) soon followed. Let’s call it speculative history. Exceedingly capable direction from a young Tourneur, with a good scene of Will pondering Romeo and Juliet while sitting in front of a tavern fireplace (leading into a brief plug for MGM’s ROMEO AND JULIET—hey! early cross promotion!--, which at least had the advantage of an actual woman playing Juliet, unlike the play as staged in Shakespeare’s time).


out of 4
I Dream Too Much (1935) Dir: John Cromwell
Production: RKO Radio Pictures
Gee, I miss the trend of opera singers coming to Hollywood and having vehicles built around their talents. This is the film debut of French opera singer Lily Pons, and when the camera is on her for any amount of time without dialogue for her to speak, it is not especially kind. She plays Annette Manard, a sheltered young girl, trained by her uncle against her wishes to be an opera singer. One night, drawn by the sounds of a carnival on the streets outside her window, she sneaks out to join in the revelry. Annette meets an American, Jonathan Street (Henry Fonda), and together they party the night away. Waking up the next morning with a hangover, Jonathan realizes he and Annette were married. He resents her at first, as a struggling composer he wants his freedom, but she convinces him to stay and they fall in love. Soon, Annette’s talent is revealed to a theatrical agent and her star is ascendant, while a frustrated Jonathan’s pride drives a wedge between them, and a sort of Parisian ‘Star is Born’ ensues.
Pons has a strange irritating way about her. She’s certainly sweet natured and trying to be cute, but her amateur emoting and shrill voice work against her. Fonda’s character is either being a rude jerk or a brat, even beyond the conventions of the time concerning gender roles. This is his third film and I presume it was a performance he tried to forget. Eric Blore appears with middling results as Annette and Jonathan’s eccentric neighbor who keeps a seal named Duchess in his apartment. Lucille Ball has a brief scene as the daughter in a family of typically uncouth American tourists. The songs collectively are among the more forgettable things Jerome Kern ever wrote. And I always find it ‘off’ when operatic singers try to do what amounted at the time to pop music, as done here. It’s like having Method Man sing George Strait. Avoid.

out of 4
A Pete Smith Specialty: Studio Visit (1946) (short) Dir: Dave O’Brien
Production: MGM
Not much behind the scenes stuff or movie making magic on this ‘studio visit’, as it is more an excuse to put together a film clip with a few novelty acts. Interestingly the clip is Lena Horne’s bubble bath number from CABIN IN THE SKY that was excised before it was released and supposedly never shown until THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT III. Well, obviously it was shown in this short, wherever it played. The first act is a shell game practitioner who is extremely good at what he does. A shot from beneath a clear table shows how he pulls off his sleight of hand. The final act is a three-year-old little girl with freakish, superhuman balancing ability, allegedly due to the abnormally large semi-circular canal in her head (either that or a nightmare dad that had been training her since birth). She was pretty remarkable, nonchalantly going through her act while munching on an apple. Typically wry PS narration rounds out the short.


out of 4
The Sign of the Ram (1948) Dir: John Sturges
Production: Columbia Pictures
A young woman takes a secretarial position with a wheelchair-bound poetess at her Cornish estate, upsetting the controlling, perverse relationship the writer has with her family. Phyllis Thaxter plays Sherida Binyon, the personal secretary to the poet, Leah St. Aubyn (Susan Peters). Sherida has moved in to the St. Aubyn family estate, on England’s western coast, where Leah lives with her husband, Mallory (Alexander Knox), and her three step-children, Logan (Ross Ford), Jane (Allen Roberts) and young Christine (Peggy Ann Garner). At first everything is great, but Sherida soon realizes that her arrival has disrupted a rather disturbing dynamic in the household. Leah, a paraplegic by way of an accident a few years earlier in which she saved Logan’s life, has managed to keep the family ‘together’ by way of guilt trips and psychological domineering. As she is ‘imprisoned’ in a wheelchair, she has turned the family home into a prison for her husband and the kids, although they barely recognize what’s going on. Leah begins to see Sherida as a rival for Mallory, and with Logan and Jane nearing the age to be married and moved out, she goes about eliminating the threats to her happy home.
This film marked the return to the screen of actress Susan Peters (RANDOM HARVEST). Three years earlier, she was hunting with her husband Richard Quine when she was paralyzed in a freak accident. This comeback didn’t lead to much else, and sadly she died within a few years. But here for this moment, she’s quite good. The film is marked by fine performances. Alexander Knox as the husband for one; he’s defeated by Leah’s machinations but almost oblivious to it. Dame May Whitty also stands out as a tactless busybody who feeds Leah’s paranoia with her gossiping. Special mention must be made of Peggy Ann Garner, playing the youngest daughter, who loves her step-mother a little too much. Inappropriate! Fine atmospherics (the setting lends itself to a lot of fog and stormy weather, used nicely) in the photography (by Burnett Guffey) and the production design.


out of 4
Edited by Pete York - 7/27/2009 at 06:07 am GMT