Warner Archive Blu-ray Wish List: The 1940's (1 Viewer)

[Dick]

C'mon, Mr. Feltenstein, I know you read these threads

Why isn't anyone screaming about THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER not on Blu?

One of our good members @Allen Hollis posted this photo on his Facebook page A smile came to my face. I saw this movie for the first time in the last two years and LOVED IT! I mean, Sheridan Whiteside is one of the most animated, enjoyable characters ever to light up the screen. So, I looked...

www.hometheaterforum.com

Fine movie, Ron, and I'm glad people are requesting it on Blu-ray (I concur), but ya gotta be a little more gentle with Mr. Feltenstein. He's still trying to recover from his temporary ouster. Things should return to whatever "normal" is eventually. I'd love to see the last two Lewtons, SINBAD THE SAILOR, GUNGA DIN, and bunches more. But, even at age 72, I have to be patient (not a long suit of mine, to be sure!) Why, Ron, you're just a spring chicken!

 

[Matt Hough]

The Mask Of Dimitrios is one of my favorite movies. It's based, of course, on the excellent novel by Eric Ambler. Unfortunately the elements are so poor, the film struggled for years before getting even a DVD-R release. I don't know if the original camera negative is still available.

Yeah, I love it, too. I really like all of the Lorre/Greenstreet starring vehicles.

 

[Bert Greene]

Of the 1940s Warner properties, I think I'm most keen on seeing some of the "Tarzan" films on blu. There are assuredly a good number of old favorites I'd jump on if released on blu, as I just did rather recently with "The Naked Spur" (1953). Things like "Tall in the Saddle" (1944) or "Abbott and Costello in Hollywood" (1945). The aforementioned "Desperate Journey" (1942) is a good call. There are slews of fondly recalled late-show staples I'd really enjoy seeing in optimum blu-ray quality. But with Warner-owned titles, I have a strangely difficult time compiling a list. For me, I think it's because there's a slightly different equation with them in terms of the kind of title potentialities I'd go for. So many of my kneejerk favorites I already have in decent-looking Warner Archive mod's, or have run into each year for 30 years on TNT/TCM. I'll still get most of them if released on blu, but I find that it's the slightly offbeat, non-warhorse titles that get me more excited.

Take for instance "Underwater!" (1955). I'd never in a million years think to put that one on a list. It's really just a rather mediocre film, after all. I'd seen it once, long ago. But the bright, colorful restoration on the disc made the viewing a real joy, and thus a particularly satisfying purchase. Ditto the super-rare "I Wouldn't Be in Your Shoes" (1948), which I'd never seen. Just seeing a Monogram in ultra-sharp, high definition quality automatically gives me goose-pimples, to be honest. After a lifetime of only seeing such material in beat-up 16mm prints, it's a real thrill for me to see 'any' Monogram looking so stunning.

With that preface, I'd say my biggest desires for blu-ray releases of 1940s-era Warner-owned titles would be RKO material. So much of it has suffered from old transfers and so-so elements. A lot of good stuff there, however, covering a nice variety of genres. On a percentage-wise basis, I'd go for more RKO titles than any others. With Warner Bros. itself, I'd make a beeline for some of those old late-show favorites I referenced, with titles like "Deep Valley" (1947) and "Three Strangers" (1946) being pretty irresistable. When it comes to MGM, I'm not quite as fond of its rather tinselly 1940s era. The MGM titles I'd be most apt to go for are some of their rather obscure, rather modest efforts. Goofy little things like "Pacific Rendezvous" (1942) or "Twice Blessed" (1945). Films like that wear well with me. But, such things would be insanely unlikely candidates for blu-ray release, I'm afraid. I'm quite a bit more partial to 1930s MGM than 1940s.

 

[roxy1927]

There is a Spanish Blu-ray of The Little Foxes. Has anybody seen it?

 

[Mark Mayes]

I didn't realize that Goldwyn titles were now available to be mastered by Warner Archive. Of course I would like to see The Little Foxes and Wuthering Heights, but That Hamilton Woman would be my prize jewel. I do have the blu-ray that was done in Europe and was taken from the same source as the Criterion disc on DVD. But it could certainly use a little work.

 

[Beckford]

1945
THE CORN IS GREEN
This film’s set in Wales And since - a few seasons earlier - Fox had enjoyed tremendous success with another Welsh tale, “How Green Was My Valley”, Warners naturally hoped for similar results with “The Corn is Green”. John Ford had imbued the earlier film ( based on a best-selling novel) with lots of sweeping outdoor visuals. “The Corn is Green”’s source was an Emlyn Williams stage play and the screen adaptation mirrored the original production’s intimate setting. Ethel Barrymore had enjoyed a personal triumph starring in the Broadway version. And one can imagine how mesmerizing she must have been. Bette Davis – herself no slouch at mesmerizing - takes on the prestigious role in the film edition. And does an expert job.
After inheriting a house in Wales, Davis’ character, Miss Moffat, decides to turn it into a school, offering education to young locals who, otherwise, face a bleak future that begins and ends in the coal-mines. One of those students, Morgan, turns out to be particularly gifted. And Miss Moffat makes it her mission to guide the boy to a scholarship that will mean access to higher educational opportunities. As it turns out, there are many obstacles in her way. But – when challenged with the possibility that the boy’s chances may be thwarted - she turns protective lioness to clear his path.
Films about the value of education are tricky to pull off. Some bogged down by treacly romantic angles, others pedantic and dry as chalkdust. “The Corn is Green” avoids all pitfalls, effectively spinning its tale with quiet but mounting intensity.
Davis is surrounded by a more than capable cast. Newcomer John Dall plays the school’s prize pupil. This is an actor whose reputation remains forever linked to his outstanding work in the crime-spree classic “Gun Crazy”. But he’s great here too, offering up a distinctively sensitive portrayal that still seems fresh. Dall’s excellence was acknowledged at the time, with an Oscar nomination.
Rhys Williams, character actor with a perpetual suggestion of Welsh music in his voice, delivers beautifully. As does Nigel Bruce, on a break from his duties as Dr. Watson. Among the women, Mildred Dunnock and Rosalind Ivan, valuable transfers from the Broadway production, are both excellent. But scene-stealer Ivan’s a particular delight as Mrs. Watty, housekeeper/reformed pickpocket, forever engaged in no-filter nattering.
Only weak link in the cast is Joan Lorring, contrived and over-emphatic in her approach, as Bessie, the scheming little hussy bent on luring Morgan away from the straight and narrow. I’ve always imagined how terrific Angela Lansbury - still in her teens and fresh off a much deserved Oscar nomination for her performance as Ingrid Bergman’s impudent maid in “Gaslight” - would have been in this part.
Bette Davis was getting Oscar nominations almost annually in those days. Strangely, the lady missed out for “The Corn is Green”. She’s marvelous in it. Tightly controlled; crisp but never chilling. I think it’s stellar work.
Before her character arrives on the scene, the locals have been given to believe it’s a man who’s coming. And they’re thrown into confusion by the arrival of a woman, especially such a highly independent one. Perceptive, plain-speaking –with a nice blend of skepticism and idealism, Miss Moffat begins to manage that confusion immediately. She’s someone who ultimately changes the lives around her for the better. And Davis convinces us that – with determined motivation - idealistic ambition can be perfectly practical.
Not too surprisingly for a Welsh subject, there’s lots of beautiful male choral music on the soundtrack, and it adds additional levels of lovely atmosphere to the proceedings.
“The Corn is Green” is a durable property, having inspired numerous stage, TV and radio adaptations over the years. Even a 70’s musical), aimed at Broadway but derailed on the road (with Davis herself in the lead). But Warners' high quality 1945 version remains definitive.

HOTEL BERLIN
I love this picture. DuringWW2, quite understandably, every second film seemed to reference some aspect of the conflict. But “Hotel Berlin’ takes a very unique approach, bringing us inside Germany for a close-up view of the Reich’s calamitous final days. Every single character is meant to be German. Even Alan Hale, of all people, shows up as a Nazi. And everything transpires inside a massive hotel where events serve as a microcosm for the larger disaster. It’s based on a novel by Vicki Baum, author of “Grand Hotel”. MGM’s film version of that book had been a sensation in the early 30’s. But – as far as I’m concerned – this second hotel drama’s a much better film.
Naturally, this is speculative fiction. But it’s marvelously creative and involving. Not too surprisingly, considering the hotel setting, the thing teems with characters. But everything moves with such headlong energy, I kept thinking of Griffith’s dynamic editing in the late stages of “Intolerance”, where multiple storylines converge with ever-rising momentum.
Needless to say, this hotel – while luxurious - is somewhat the worse for wear, what with Allied bombing and wartime supply shortages. Right off the bat, we watch a squad of Gestapo men pursuing a fugitive through the lobby in front of gaping guests. The chase leads past parts of the edifice held up by shaky scaffolding and planks and it ends with startling brutality.
Along with staff and various levels of increasingly panicky civilian guests, Hotel Berlin is rife with Nazis, including high-ranking brass, mostly rats furiously plotting exit strategies –whether by covering their tracks before the Allies close in, fleeing to other countries or resorting to the “gentlemanly” solution of suicide. Leaving rank and file to face the music as best they can.
There are also members of the resistance in the hotel, including Helmut Dantine (looking like a haunted Student Prince) as a dissident doctor who’s escaped from Dachau and is being precariously hidden by hotel employees.
There are no big stars in the cast; this is a true ensemble project. But performances are all sterling. In 1945 some critics, Bosley Crowther among them, wrong-headedly criticized “Hotel Berlin” for making some of its German characters too sympathetic. Raymond Massey’s von Dahnitz is a prime example. He’s a high-ranking German officer (and – as it develops - part of a failed plot to kill Hitler ). He also happens to be deeply in love with one of the hotel guests. A fact that complicates matters even more as the walls close in around him. Massey’s magnificent – conveying the poignancy of his plight with dignified mastery. As a more junior officer, Kurt Kreuger’s the swaggering epitome of the contemptuous young Nazi, obscenely handsome in that Aryan superman way. Carrying vain self-interest to sociopathic extremes.
Just as good – as cold-hearted military bigwigs who have no intention of crumbling with the regime – are Henry Daniell and George Coulouris. They’re masterminding a postwar relocation to America where they’ll pose as innocent refugees, all the while planning to slowly resurrect the Reich. Daniell uses that eternally sepulchral presence of his to great effect. And Coulouris is beyond terrific. Carefully deciding who’ll come along and who’ll be left holding the bag. Coulouris' Helm is like some sort of monster with a talent for materializing just when he’s least welcome, seldom speaking above a murmur but never failing to unsettle any gathering.
“Hotel Berlin” boasts some good female roles as well. Faye Emerson is Tillie, hotel “hostess” i.e. good time girl. She longs for a new pair of shoes and will do almost anything to get them. She’s also secretly in love with a Jewish man. And when Kurt Kreuger’s character finds that out, he makes her life progressively more unbearable. Emerson’s good in the role. But her top-billing in the posters probably relates to the fact that - in real life – she’d recently married FDR’s son and was an especially newsworthy name at the time.
The real stand-out female performance in the ensemble comes from elegant Andrea King, as Lisa Dorn, an acclaimed stage actress staying at the hotel. This is a fascinating character. Capable of empathy and warmth, but – in the end – bent on ensuring her own survival and prosperity. Lisa’s an actress to the core, forever observing (and captivating) those around her, calculating the pros and cons of her next move. And King plays every aspect of the character with unforced assurance. Lisa also happens to be the object of Raymond Massey’s affections and honestly returns them – until she feels she can’t.
All the various strands of “Hotel Berlin”s plot intertwine and advance without ever flagging. The man most responsible would be director Peter Godfrey, an Englishman then on a roll at Warners, directing some big budget Flynn and Stanwyck pictures. But none of those are as good as “Hotel Berlin”. Even without big stars, extreme timeliness plus excellent word of mouth made this picture one of Warners’ big moneymakers in ’45. Time for a Blu-ray.

DANGER SIGNAL
This is another picture you don’t hear much about anymore. But in its day “Danger Signal” sent many an audience home fully entertained.
The movie gets started with a film-noir bang. In a rooming house congenitally sneaky-looking Zachary Scott gazes down on the body of a woman he’s just murdered. We learn she’s somebody else's wife and he’s been cohabiting with her (how did 40’s censors let that get by?). Scott surveys her icily, then scoops money out of her purse and exits via a window. Next thing we know, he’s in sunny small-town America politely looking to rent a room.
The picture quickly develops into a kind of women’s noir – with a splash of “Mildred Pierce” and a dash of “Shadow of a Doubt”. Most major actresses in the 40’s made at least one film of this type. Warners initially offered “Danger Signal” ‘s script to queen bee Bette Davis. She turned it down in favor of “A Stolen Life”, a noir that provided her with a flashier assignment, playing twin sisters - one good, one bad to the bone.
Faye Emerson inherited ”Danger Signal”. And it gave her the star showcase role of her career. A youngish, no airs and graces working girl (stenographer, in this case), the character’s smart, but warm and sympathetic. Emerson brings out all these qualities with a nice degree of relaxed middle American charm I really don’t think would’ve been in Bette’s 40’s wheelhouse.
A born conniver, Zachary Scott’s Ronnie has soon wormed his way into the lives of Emerson’s (all female) household. Talks them into renting him a room, then proceeds to turn their lives upside down. Romancing Emerson until he finds out younger sister Mona Freeman is sitting on a $25,000 inheritance. When Emerson finds out the new boarder’s been secretly stepping out with Mona at the Club Habenero she starts to suspect just how nefarious this guy is. But Scott has already fixed it so she can’t expose him. Even tricking her into writing a suicide note so that if “something happens to her” he’ll be in the clear.
This is one of those 40’s films where one’s circle of friends naturally includes a consulting psychiatrist. This time out, it’s Rosemary DeCamp, here serving as a more benign (and foreign-accented) version of Helen Walker from “Nightmare Alley”. Like Tyrone Power in that film, Faye races to the lady psychiatrist’s digs in the middle of the night to get things off her chest. Even at that late hour, DeCamp’s glamorously attired, the atmosphere atingle with faint sapphic fragrances. I gave up trying to count the crazy number of tassles on her fancy peignoir. Anyway Dr. Freud ultimately helps Emerson give the nasty man his comeuppance. With a neat twist near the end that plays out with a satisfying punch.
I’d certainly call this an A picture – and a pretty good one. There’s an unfortunate two minute comedy coda that definitely should have ended up on the cutting room floor. But everything that precedes it is dandy.

 

[Matt Hough]

Bette Davis had to have been mortified that her two young co-stars Dall and Lorring got Oscar nominations for The Corn Is Green while she went home empty-handed, but in later years she felt she was too young to have tried to play Miss Moffatt even though Perc Westmore tried his best to give her a more mature appearance. It was one reason she was so eager to do the musical version so many years later: she felt she was aged appropriately for it then. I think folks expected all-stops-out performances from Davis back in those days so subdued, subtle ones like this or her wife role in Watch on the Rhine never brought her nominations (though those performances play superbly nowadays).

 

[roxy1927]

The Broadway musical version was in the early 70s with Josh Logan directing and it fell through?

 

[RichMurphy]

The Broadway musical version was in the early 70s with Josh Logan directing and it fell through?

It was a fiasco, immortalized with other theatrical failures on the walls of Joe Allen's restaurant in New York.

Here are the details: https://www.operanews.com/Opera_News_Magazine/2014/8/Features/Stage_Fright.html

 

[benbess]

 

[benbess]

Some more possibilities for 1944.

 

[benbess]

1945

 

[roxy1927]

When you think Hollywood tossed away older women in Valley Garson was in her 40s and Peck was in his 20s.

 

[benbess]

1945

 

[benbess]

1944

 

[Beckford]

1945 Part 2
SAN ANTONIO
“San Antonio” ‘s a lively Technicolor western from the height of the studio era. And it’s mounted with all the overflowing resources at Warner Bros’ command. The supporting cast teems with accomplished contract players, all expert at handling themselves in any onscreen situation; the story’s compelling, the dialogue sharp and often amusing. And director David Butler (the man behind Warner winners like “Thank Your Lucky Stars” and “Calamity Jane”) keeps all the elements at a constant and colorful boil. One segment simply calls for the delivery of a telegram. It could have been a simple hand-off. But Butler orchestrates it into an engagingly fluid visual showpiece, the camera nimbly following the little messenger boy, whose every jaunty step through the streets presents us with a new Technicolor treat.
But above all “San Antonio” exists as an ode to the spectacular star persona of Errol Flynn. No other actor ever conveyed the spirit of devil-may-care adventure so completely. And Flynn didn’t just convey it; he embodied it.
When Robert Donat dropped out of the title role in 1935’s “Captain Blood”, Warner honchos decided to take a chance on virtually untested newcomer Flynn. This still stands as one of the greatest last-minute decisions Hollywood bigwigs ever made. The day before “Captain Blood” ’s release Flynn was an unknown, the day after, a screen idol. And one whose luster has endured. It wasn’t just that Errol Flynn was a perfect fit for the swashbuckler genre. He’s largely responsible for the fact it survived and – for a long time– positively thrived. Over the years, hordes of other onscreen adventurers have emulated him. Or tried to. But Flynn’s performances set the bar so high other contenders could never hope for more than a silver medal. Flynn and Flynn alone retains permanent possession of the gold.
The actor was tall and devilishly handsome. But those qualities certainly weren’t rare in Hollywood. This guy, though, was also graceful and agile. And he had personality. Plus a beautiful speaking voice, adroitly employed to express teasing flirtation one moment and stirring gallantry the next. And that’s while standing still. In motion, Flynn was the essence of elegant finesse. Elevating swordfight sequences with every thrust and parry. The last word in laughing cavaliers, Errol Flynn could radiate an endless sense of fun. But onscreen villains crossed him at their peril.
Still every Flynn film couldn’t be a swashbuckler. To their delight, Warners found out the man could fit smoothly into all kinds of other scenarios. Comedies, dramas, period romances. But the public liked him best as an adventurer. And every adventure film couldn’t have plumed hats and swords.
One of Flynn’s assets was his accent, beautifully cultivated but of rather indeterminate origin. British? Australian? Tasmanian? The press wasn’t quite sure. But clearly it wasn’t what movie fans generally expected to hear in the midst of a Texas range war. For this reason, Warners hemmed and hawed about putting Flynn in a western. Would cowboy fans – and audiences in general – buy Flynn as a wild westerner? Would they ultimately find it impossible to accept their beloved Robin Hood as a cowpoke?
The studio finally took the gamble with 1939’s “Dodge City”. And when they did, went full in on it –big budget, Technicolor, the works. Warners’ misgivings proved groundless. “Dodge City” was a smash hit, opening up a whole new genre for their box office king. Flynn made three more westerns before “San Antonio” and several others after – and all made merry music at the box office.
As for “San Antonio” itself, this is no “Ox-Bow Incident”. It’s lighthearted comfort food, tasty from start to finish. Right near the opening, we see a rider silhouetted in front of a dazzling three strip Technicolor sky. It’s a friend arriving at Errol’s Mexican hideout. “Don’t come back to Texas”, he implores, “because everyone there is gunning for you”. But Flynn brushes aside the warning with a smile. There are matters he needs to set to rights and no army of Texas polecats is going to stand in his way. Destination: San Antonio.
By the way, Flynn’s racy tabloid reputation as a womanizer seemed to make him even more popular with the public. And his pictures usually managed to throw in a few winks in that direction. During the opening sequence, a beautiful Mexican girl makes repeated (and ill-advised) attempts to take an outdoor bath in a large wooden bucket. Every time a man approaches she shrieks, covers herself with a blanket and races off. When Flynn saunters by and she goes into her high-decibel disappearing act, he looks after her with a gleam in his eye and says quietly, “Don’t run away, honey. We won’t look”.
Prominent among the supporting cast is comedian S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall, in a constant state of Mitteleuropean befuddlement. Fans of Sakall’s shenanigans will enjoy a generous serving of same in “San Antonio”. He’s especially funny in a courtroom scene - as a nervous wreck witness who just can’t stop calling his impatient interrogator “your highness”. It doesn’t hurt that Cuddles’ partner in most scenes is expert vinegar puss Florence Bates. She’s on the side of the good guys in this one – but still looks and sounds like a female Rumpelstiltskin.
Tom Tyler( whose career had already encompassed silent screen fame in the 20’s, B-movie cowboy stardom in the 30’s, a striking supporting appearance in John Ford’s “Stagecoach” and a bandage- wrapped stint as The Mummy for Universal) shows up for a tensely orchestrated gunfight sequence early on. And it creates its own vivid moment.
The Warner Brothers must have finally broken down and given Alan Hale a vacation. Because the actor, a genial presence at Flynn’s side in most of his adventure films, is MIA in “San Antonio”. And in spite of all the well populated fun onscreen, one can’t help missing him a little.
“San Antonio” has two main villains, Paul Kelly and Victor Francen and both are pros. But – even added together – they’re not quite worthy adversaries for Mr. Flynn. Maybe that’s why Kelly sends out an order summoning a hundred gunfighters to San Antonio for back-up.
Leading lady is Alexis Smith as a glamorous singing star whose mixed-up manager (Sakall) somehow books her into an engagement in the Bella Union, a rowdy San Antonio music hall/saloon. Smith was an imposing looking woman – definitely glamorous. But with a generous expanse of forehead that suggested either a super-abundance of cerebral material or a touch of Metaluna in her family tree. Warner Bros obviously had faith in her potential. They kept her under contract for a decade, along the way giving her plenty of top assignments, including high profile appearances in five different Flynn films. I suspect the reason the lady didn’t quite make it to the front rank as a movie star was her tendency to radiate self-assurance rather than warmth. A good actress, though, who had no trouble holding up her end of the script’s verbal sparring. Smith finally came into her own decades later as the star of Stephen Sondheim’s celebrated stage musical “Follies”. She won a Tony award for her efforts. And on a new wave of fame – glamorous as ever - even grabbed the cover of Time Magazine. A nice climax to a long and worthy career.
Max Steiner’s instrumental score for "San Antonio" keeps things bouncing along like a ride in a well-cushioned stagecoach. And the picture even boasted a hit song called “Some Sunday Morning”, barely remembered now but all over the airwaves (and Oscar-nominated) in 1945.
At one point Flynn and Smith share a nice musical moment, dancing a sprightly Varsouviana (Put Your Little Foot, Put Your Little Foot). They’re on a crowded dance-floor but easily command the spotlight. And – no surprise – Flynn does a charming, fleet-footed job of it, bantering all the while. At one point, he says to Smith “This took me years to pick up”, to which the lady counters “It must be the only thing that took you this long to pick up”.
In the course of her performing duties at the Bella Union, Smith lip-synchs her way through a couple of numbers. Performing them on the same set – a beauty - that later did duty as the Golden Garter saloon in “Calamity Jane”. I imagine it also turned up in lots of other Warner westerns.
The townsmen, by the way, all react to Alexis Smith’s arrival as if they’d never seen a pretty girl before. Somewhat odd, since the saloon already employed a chorus line of beauties who looked like Goldwyn Girls. But I suspect an over-abundance of pulchritude was never something movie audiences complained about.
The plot comes to a head with a massive action sequence that starts in the saloon and erupts out into the night-time streets. It’s full of amazing split-second stunt work, with masses of extras (including those one hundred gunfighters previously summoned) leaping, tumbling and falling into frame. The segment reaches its climax amid the crumbling ruins of the Alamo in a quietly tense cat and mouse encounter between Flynn and the two villains - all played out under a breathtaking moonlit sky.
One of Errol Flynn’s most appealing qualities was the impression he gave of being someone who’d had plenty of fun and adventure before he started in pictures – and should he decide to chuck Hollywood once and for all - would have no trouble finding just as much excitement wherever he cared to go.
Thank goodness Flynn’s films are still around for us to enjoy. It’s comforting to know such a character really existed – it couldn’t all have been a moving picture illusion. Much of the magic and the magnetism had to come from within the man himself.

 

[Santee7]

1944 continued

THE MASK OF DIMITRIOS
I’d intended to conclude my 1944 spotlight with a detailed pitch for “The Mask of Dimitrios”. But I find I’ve misplaced my copy and am kind of reluctant to discuss it without a rewatch. But the rest of the Warner-controlled films I love from ’44 (“Gaslight”, To Have and Have Not” and “Meet Me in St. Louis”) are already on Blu. And I hate to miss any opportunity to stump for a Blu-ray release of this particular classic. So I’ll wing it.
“The Mask of Dimitrios” stars Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre. This was a duo that appeared together so regularly they sometimes seemed to be Warners’ sinister response to Hope and Crosby. At their best, they were just as much fun. The two began their association in “The Maltese Falcon” and “Casablanca”, then popped up in seven other 40’s films – three of which featured them as leads.
All three of those films are excellent but I consider “The Mask of Dimitrios’ the best of them. Don’t let Lorre’s perplexing fourth billing in the posters fool you. He and Greenstreet are the picture’s main characters. And together or apart are in virtually every scene.
At this point I have to say that – although I know Peter Lorre’s got lots of avid fans - I’m not really one of them. I neither love nor loathe him. But I certainly do acknowledge his place in the pantheon. The man’s utterly unique. Can’t think of anyone just like him.
On the other hand, I absolutely love Sydney Greenstreet. Would watch him in anything. Yet there are other Sydney Greenstreet types – Francis L. Sullivan (Caesar and Cleopatra), Alexander Gauge (The Interrupted Journey), Sydney Granville (his Poo-Bah in the great 1939 version of “The Mikado” is essentially a singing Sydney Greenstreet).
But Greenstreet himself remains king. The type’s absolute top purveyor. Portly, pompous, fastidious, devious, often alarming, frequently fiendish. With the silver tongue of a born deceiver. This is the voice Eve must have heard before she bit into the apple.
It’s so much fun to watch Greenstreet and Lorre play cat and mouse games through the noir-lit streets and alleys of Istanbul and whatever other shadowy locales this story leads them into. The pair definitely bring out the best in each other as performers. Lorre forever furtive, trapped under some sort of gloom-laden psychological cloud that follows him around. Greenstreet overconfident and insinuating, patient one moment, panicky the next - but carrying all of it off with mesmerizing, elephantine delicacy.
A tip of the hat to Jean Negulesco, who helmed this picture. He’s one of my favorite directors, among other things a superb visual craftsman (something evident in every frame of “Dimitrios”). Negulesco’s the man behind a whole string of personal favorites – starting with “Singapore Woman”, his enjoyable 1941 feature debut. Here Warner honchos took a bagful of elements from old Bette Davis vehicles, and handed them to Negulesco, Brenda Marshall and the B unit with instructions to make a new picture out of it. (All concerned proved nicely up to the challenge). Afterwards came such deluxe items as "Humoresque”, “Johnny Belinda”, “Three Came Home”, “Titanic”(1953) and “Boy on a Dolphin”.
As for “The Mask of Dimitrios”, specific story details elude me. I haven’t watched it for several years. But I feel confident in recommending it to any vintage film lovers who somehow don’t have it on their radar. Furthermore I propose immediate legislation stating that “The Mask of Dimitrios” must be made available on Blu-ray in 2022. How’s that for a mask mandate?

I am a huge Lorre fan and this film really shows, more than the others, the special unique chemistry Lorre and Greenstreet had. The dvd is now out of print and goes for up to 75 dollars on ebay. Gotta wait for another payday before I can afford that one.

 

[Beckford]

1945 Part 3
ZOMBIES ON BROADWAY
The title pretty much tells you. 1945’s Greer Garson crowd were unlikely to be the canaries heading into this particular coalmine. It’s not hard to imagine the makers of “Springtime for Hitler” settling on that title over “Zombies on Broadway” after a coin toss. But – though 40’s patrons lured by the word “Broadway” would likely run the other way at the suggestion of zombies - the bunch that perked up at the sight of the Z word didn’t much care what syllables accompanied it. “Zombies? I’m in!”. This is a title that no doubt had kids erupting into cheers when it flashed across the screen at Saturday matinees. But there was zero chance of its ever adorning the marquee of the Radio City Music Hall.
I love “Zombies on Broadway”. Always have. It’s a high concept horror comedy of the “Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein” variety. But “Zombies” preceded that marvelous item by three years. Its starring comedy team, Alan Carney and Wally Brown, were pretty much RKO’s response to A&C. They appeared in several films together. But none of the others do as good a job at spotlighting their energetic teamwork. Brown, taller and trimmer than his partner, is the bossier of the two, with chubby Carney the gullibly endearing scaredy-cat calamity-magnet. Recognize the dynamic?
RKO didn’t have access to Universal’s exclusive complement of house monsters. But for a modest pay-cheque they did acquire the invaluable services of Bela Lugosi, who – whatever his character name, whatever the scenario – always carried with him a steamer-trunk full of Dracula associations.
Gangster Sheldon Leonard has somehow hired nincompoop duo Carney and Brown as press agents for his soon to debut nightspot, the Zombie Club. The boys shower the town with brochures advertising a real live zombie as opening night attraction. And Leonard’s furious when he finds out the guys have no idea how to produce one. He issues an ultimatum. Either find a zombie or wind up at the bottom of the river.
The pair’s panicky quest sends them to museum curator Professor Hopkins (an amusingly distracted Ian Wolfe, knee-deep in skeletons and mummy dust). This old bird directs them to a zombie-infested corner of the tropics called San Sebastian, where a former colleague of his, Dr. Renault, is apparently something of an expert on the grisly subject. Off they go.
RKO was still very much in the Val Lewton era. So it’s not surprising they injected “Zombies on Broadway” with some Lewton touches. The island of San Sebastian comes complete with Calypso singer (and Lewton veteran) Sir Lancelot – who, whether speaking, singing or just hovering, delivers that signature vibe of his – generally benign but slightly creepy. Even more striking is the prominent inclusion of hulking Darby Jones –familiar as the title-creature moving inexorably through the sugar-cane in Lewton’s “I Walked with a Zombie” – here more or less encoring his part. Same bug-eyed make-up job, same shivery effect.
Once on the island, the boys meet implausibly stranded singer Jean La Danse, who – for reasons of her own – joins them in the zombie hunt. Jean’s played by Anne Jeffreys, an A-level talent who spent most of her movie career in B pictures. Punching the clock at Republic in the early 40’s, then minimally promoted to mid-budget fare at RKO. She gets to sing one low-octane song in “Zombies”. And though saddled for the number with a cross-cultural grab-bag of a costume – part harem girl, part burlesque queen, part surrey with a fringe on top – the actress still manages to muster up some allure. Her act, by the way, also includes knife-throwing. Jeffreys had more luck on the stage. She followed Patricia Morison on Broadway as leading lady of Cole Porter’s legendary musical “Kiss Me Kate”. Enduringly lovely, she was still delighting live audiences in the 80’s – as Mrs. Anna in Yul Brynner’s touring version of “The King and I”
Meanwhile back at San Sebastian, Dr. Renault turns out to be Lugosi himself. And his pet project is creating zombies. Not by supernatural means but rather with a serum he’s developed in his gloomy castle headquarters. One needle jab and any subject is instantly zombified, bulging eyes and all. That the results are only temporary provides limited comfort. Since as long as the transformation lasts, mayhem is pretty much guaranteed to ensue. Of course Lugosi, being Lugosi, has little compunction about resorting to flat-out murder when necessary. And it takes very little to convince him of its necessity. Oh and I must mention one of my favorite moments from the picture. When Carney and Brown first meet Renault, they pop in a casual reference to mutual friend Professor Hopkins. Lugosi’s instantaneous fury always sends me into a chucklestorm. This guy definitely had his own unique and deadly brand of comic timing.
In many ways, “Zombies on Broadway” almost serves as a dry run for “Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein”. I’d be surprised if the makers of that film hadn’t seen “Zombies” at some point and figured this monsters vs madcaps thing might work really well for Bud and Lou. The wonderful movie Universal eventually crafted is justly beloved. And Carney & Brown don’t operate at Abbott & Costello’s level. But that’s not to short-change “Zombies on Broadway”. On its own terms, the Carney-Brown film’s fast-moving shuddery fun. There’ll always be a responsive audience out there for it. If that audience can just manage to find out the darn thing exists.
Lugosi’s name value and the fact that the picture’s mounted with a reasonable degree of RKO production polish – plus, of course, the presence of the word “zombie” in the title – all make me think that an eventual WAC Blu-ray release is no mere pipe dream. Perhaps even teamed with 1940’s “You’ll Find Out”, for a spooky/funny Lugosi at RKO double bill. Bring it on.

 

[Bert Greene]

Bela Lugosi provided some big chuckles in Joe E. Brown's "Broad-Minded" (1931) as well, starting with Brown getting fountain-pen ink on the increasingly flustered Bela's strawberry shortcake at a roadside diner. That just sounds funny already, doesn't it? As for "Zombies," it seems to get a lot of flak, but when it comes to silly B-comedies, it actually does have its moments, and is far better than its reputation. Love Anne Jeffreys. Met her several times and even attended an event with her. Brown/Carney's earlier service-oriented comedies I recall being only mild at best. RKO was really grinding out a lot of B-comedies and musicals during the wartime years. Not nearly as many as Universal (which would easily win the award for sheer volume), but still a lot. I do tend to like them, even if many are just so-so. Give me a dose of big-band music, pretty starlets and some old-time vaudeville comedians still doing their schtick, and I'm usually a pretty happy camper. Biggest RKO disappointment in their B-comedy vein is that short "Great Gildersleeve" series, which was below-par and seemed like a missed opportunity. Producer Herman Schlom fared much better when he started to helm the postwar Tim Holt westerns.

 

[benbess]

It sounds like a dream combo—Cary Grant, Michael Curtiz, and the music of Cole Porter—but from my viewing long ago I recall that this film is good in parts but weak in others. But it was a big hit in 1946, and the score by Max Steiner and Ray Heindorf was nominated for an Oscar. If the original 3-strip Technicolor survives it might be worth the Warner Archive blu-ray treatment. The print I saw streaming several years ago was in bad shape. Cole Porter himself apparently liked the movie.