Creature from the Black Lagoon is at its most basic level about a bunch of scientists looking for a monster, and finding it. Unlike less thoughtful movies in the genre, Black Lagoon poses deeper philosophical questions and wraps it in a beautifully photographed, if low-budget film.

A group of geologists find a fossilized creature, some sort of half-man, half-fish. Knowing the legends of the animal’s existence are now true, they decide to put together a team of explorers to find a live one. Their search leads them to the Black Lagoon, where they reason there will at least be more fossilized evidence, if not live specimens.

The marine scientist brings his girlfriend Kay (someone needs to wear the bathing suit, after all), but she is not a useless damsel. She brings a human thoughtfulness and patience to the otherwise fame-seeking men.

The plot progresses as one might expect. Kay fearlessly takes a dip in the lagoon, the creature sees her and becomes obsessed with her. And as the scientists close in on capturing the creature, the humans become more obsessed with the “Gill-Man.” In truth, Kay has no fear of Gill-Man (or any other Amazonian creature) until the scientists convince her she should be.

Like King Kong, the creature becomes a sympathetic character as it becomes clear that he is genuinely curious about these new visitors. His violent streak only comes out when the humans frighten or threaten him. Which is ridiculous, as the scientists are the very people who shouldn’t be afraid of Gill-Man. They are the ones who believe he is real and are seeking to learn more about the species.

While the nature of human fear hasn’t changed, this movie differs from its Universal monster predecessors. As a post-WWII flick, the sensibility of this movie reflects a different America. In the 1950s, suburbia exploded and affordable family cars made travel accessible. This prompted the rise of roadside attractions. “World’s Largest” objects were plopped in random towns. Enterprising businesses created tourist traps.

Florida was no different. It attracted curiosity-seekers with the Weeki Wachee Mermaids. The crystal clear natural springs, now part of a state park, provided the perfect viewing aquarium for underwater shows. The ‘mermaids’ would pretend to play football or watch tv submerged, while taking occasional breaths from discreet air hoses. These aquatic ballerinas brought tourists in by the thousands. The dirt roads in the area were soon paved, and lined with motels and shops. Soon, the craze for underwater filming would crown Esther Williams as the queen of synchronized swimming.

Black Lagoon is no crass horror flick as is evidenced by the extreme efforts in the production. Scenes were filmed underwater on location at natural springs in Florida as well as on the studio backlot. Camera crew were outfitted with breathing hoses, diving helmets, flippers, and special equipment. There were even two different actors portraying the underwater aspects of the characters.

Ben Chapman played the creature on land, but the underwater scenes were done by Ricou Browning (who recently died in 2023 at age 93). He was an aquatic stuntman and actor with plenty of underwater performance experience at Weeki Wachee and elsewhere. He was ultimately able to hold his breath for four minutes at a time. “If you’re not doing anything at all, four minutes is possible, but not if you’re moving in the water,” he said. “If you’re swimming fast or fighting, you use up a lot of oxygen, and it cuts it down to, at the most, two minutes.” He also learned how to use the breathing hose that Florida ‘mermaids’ employed in their aquatic shows.

The Gill-Man monster suit itself was another epic production story. The design of the creature was handed over to Milicent Patrick, a talented artist from Disney. She drew Chernabog for Fantasia, among other things before bringing her talent to Universal. The iconic Bud Westmore later downplayed her role in creating the character, but the Gill-Man truly was from Patrick’s imagination. The suit was constructed from an unbreathable rubber, making it incredibly hot to wear, especially for the “land” actor, Chapman. He was also unable to sit in the full-boy suit and would often dunk himself in a backlot lake or ask to be hosed down in order to stay cool.

Browning found the Gill-Man suit easier to swim in than Chapman did to walk in. “Once I got into the movie, I forgot I had it on,’ he recalled. I became the creature.” Similarly, Julie Adams had an aquatic double in Ginger Stanley Hallowell. Like Browning, she was a professional underwater performer at Weeki Wachee when she was cast in Black Lagoon. (Hallowell also recently died in 2023 at 91).

“Deep underwater swimming can be dangerous in itself. If you rise to the surface too fast with too much air in your lungs, you can be in big trouble,” Hallowell said. She and Browning had worked together before and she felt comfortable with him dragging her down more than fifty feet underwater as the monster.

Browning, Hallowell, and the underwater camera crew are responsible for the most mesmerizing scenes in the film. There is tremendous beauty and simplicity in the shot of Kay and Gill-Man swimming together. She doesn’t know what lies just beneath her, but the two perform a sort of aquatic ballet. The cinematography is gorgeous, giving it a diaphanous, dreamy look. Gill-Man is fantasizing about a world in which they both co-exist. She is unaware of the machinations below.

The climax of the film involves an underwater action scene, something Ricou Browning would become famous for in later years. He was the choreographer for the aquatic battles in James Bond movies, and he co-created popular television shows “Flipper” and “Sea Hunt.” The Black Lagoon brawl was a precursor of complex underwater storytelling to come.

Creature from the Black Lagoon tells a simple ‘Beauty and the Beast’ story, giving it room to explore other themes and present innovative cinematic techniques.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

]]> https://www.mwgerard.com/the-genre-defying-jaws/ Wed, 21 Jun 2023 13:52:30 +0000 https://www.mwgerard.com/?p=19509

It’s easy to write Jaws off as a campy summer blockbuster. A murderous shark picking off beachgoers is a rather silly concept on its face. But when you add a grizzled misanthrope, a nerdy oceanographer, a troubled sheriff, and a single-minded monster, there is something more. Repeated viewings bring other, deeper meanings to the surface.

Like a typical slasher horror movie, Jaws opens with two teenagers sneaking out onto the beach dunes to go skinny dipping. Because of all the cues an audience has been trained to recognize, the viewer knows something bad is going to happen. Yet at the climax of the scene, instead of a piercing scream, there is silence. Only his second feature-length directing credit, Steven Spielberg was already learning to use the tropes of genres to his advantage.

Jaws is primarily a monster movie. It is a tale of man versus beast. But unlike its predecessors, Jaws employs an unusual creature. The audience feels for Frankenstein’s monster and the Gill Man. Godzilla’s fury is understandable, but this shark is a pure killing machine. It has “dead eyes” and has no purpose other than to destroy. Spielberg gives viewers a true villain to hate.

And like the best creature features, the viewer barely sees the shark. Though this was a deliberate choice, the physical shark was seen on screen even less due to the difficult mechanics it employed. Despite its detailed machinery, it proved nearly impossible to get footage that looked realistic. As a result the intrepid film editor inserted only short sequences of mechanical shark film.

In the end, it made a more frightening, subtler monster, and ironically, allows the film to stand the test of time more than one relying on computer graphics.

The classic American novel Moby Dick is at its center a story about obsession. Captain Ahab and the elusive white whale blur the line between predator and prey, each eschewing everything else in order to kill the other. More importantly, they insist on finishing what was left undone. Neither can rest while they know the other is still alive.

Quint, played by the rugged Robert Shaw, is a salty World War II veteran. He has used his naval skills to open a shark-hunting business. He sells shark teeth, biding his time until he can make his next kill. In act two of the film, we learn why Quint has had a lifelong obsession with sharks. The audience realizes that Quint and the shark must fulfill their destinies if the town will ever be safe again.

Chief Brody is Ishmael, the everyman thrust into an otherworldly experience only to be the unlikely hero. He is the outside observer and the viewer sees the film from this point of view. His deadpan delivery of the ad-libbed “you’re gonna need a bigger boat” gets to the heart of simplicity of the audience’s collective terror. Like the narrator of Moby Dick, Roy Scheider is left clinging to the wreckage of the battered ship. Not accidentally, their small boat is named Orca, after the only creature in the sea known to kill sharks.

Richard Dreyfus most closely mirrors Queequeg, the seasoned traveler in search of new adventures. His character Hooper is like a storm chaser, travelling the world in search of the most intense and wild sharks. While his expertise leads him to the attacks in Amity, it becomes less relevant as the battle of wills overtakes any sort of zoological analysis. It requires the sacrifice of Quint, the expertise of Hooper, and the everyman ingenuity of Brody to defeat the shark.

It’s also important that the film is set in a New England seaside town. The Cape Cod-style fishing village mirrors the whaling town of Gloucester at the opening of Moby Dick. By setting the battle between man and beast in the location when Puritans landed, it also represents a quintessential American purity under attack — on July 4th, no less. There is nothing more American than going to the beach on a summer weekend. Loosing a maniacal beast on innocent revelers jeopardizes the very fabric of the audience’s perception of what is secure.

Spielberg tapped into the classic disaster movie trope by having the experts be ignored. Add to this mix a selfish, determined mayor who decides to open the beaches even though it isn’t safe. Brody, Hooper, and Quint try to convince the mayor that he will be risking the lives of the citizens, not to mention the long-term viability of the beachtown’s economy if people are killed. Brody in particular becomes Amity’s Cassandra, predicting doom when no one will listen, and having to watch your prediction come true. In this case, the audience knows the warnings are correct, thus ratcheting up the suspense as they wait for the next shark attack.

In the annals of summer blockbusters, only a few hold up decades later. Even fewer offer a genuine example of the era’s style while still finding something to say to a new generation. By referring to genre touchstones, Spielberg used a familiar foundation on which to build a genre-bending classic.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Dame Daphne du Maurier (1907-1989) was destined for an artistic life. She was the daughter of theatre professionals and the granddaughter of successful novelist George du Maurier (George was also the grandfather of the Davies children, who inspired Peter Pan). Coming of age between the wars in Britain, her stories and novels are imbued with a heavy overtone of the uncanny.

Her literary career took off quickly and she remained a popular author for decades. Her work also became the basis for a number of films – three of which Alfred Hitchcock chose to direct.

Jamaica Inn (1938) is set in du Maurier’s beloved Cornwall in the 1820s. The tiny village is full of wreckers, thieves that lure ships onto the rocky coast and steal the cargo. This wild and unregulated place becomes home to a young woman, niece to the innkeeper. In the 1939 Hitchcock version, she is played by Maureen O’Hara in her first onscreen role. Charles Laughton brings a levity to the movie that doesn’t really exist in the original book. PBS Masterpiece made a more faithful adaptation with the darker and mysterious elements in 2014.

In 1952, du Maurier published “The Birds” as part of a short story collection. In the story, a rural farm in Cornwall is besieged by strangely behaving birds. First, swarms of them float just offshore, bobbing in the roiling sea. They are vaguely threatening, though no one is quite sure why. Then, the real attack begins. Birds begin dive bombing residents of the rural town.

It becomes clear that the story is attempting to capture the terror of a populace living under the constant threat of bombing during WWII. In his film adaptation, Hitchcock updates the setting to a modern coastal California town that’s invaded not only by deadly birds, but also a careless, obsessive woman.

Du Maurier’s most well-known work, and most popular adaptation, is Rebecca. Du Maurier set out to write a contemporary Jane Eyre, setting a similar story in the Interwar years. It has its own Gothic sensibilities despite the modern era.

In the book, one of the most stunning developments is that the reader finds out what happened to Rebecca halfway through the book, but rather than losing momentum, it pivots and remains gripping.

Interestingly, Hitchcock’s fairly faithful adaptation had to make significant changes to the ending, due to the rules of the Hays Code. One of its tenets was that a murderer cannot get away with their crime or profit from it. Therefore, there are a number of changes in the reveal of the classic film. It’s still a fantastic watch.

After Rebecca, my favorite du Maurier novel is My Cousin Rachel. It captures a similar atmosphere and the 2017 adaptation sticks to the book. Philip raises his cousin and heir Ambrose. The two enjoy a snug life in Cornwall and the elder is comforted by the fact his estate will be in good hands. Then, Ambrose goes to Italy, meets a woman named Rachel, and promptly dies. Philip becomes suspicious of the widow Rachel and determines to find out what actually happened. It’s stylish and lush, and the unwitting viewer is in for plenty of surprises.

In 1971, du Maurier published the story (nearly novella) called Don’t Look Now. A middle-aged couple take a trip to Venice after their young daughter has died. While there, they run into strange twins who claim to be psychic, and learn there is a serial killer on the loose. Then, they begin seeing a small child in a red coat, always just out of reach. It’s weird and moody.

The film was made by Nicolas Roeg (best known for Walkabout and The Man Who Fell To Earth) with 1970s superstars Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie. It’s dark and uncomfortable and features an ambiguous ending. It also won a BAFTA for cinematography, and was nominated for eight more.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Following the war, she embraced the glittering 1920s. She played Peter Pan for two years, becoming the first stage actress to “fly” via wire in the play. Her acting gained notice among critics, even earning the admiration of W. Somerset Maugham: She has turned “herself from an indifferent actress to an extremely competent one.” Playwrights began writing plays just for her to star in. Maugham himself was so impressed with her portrayal of Leslie Crosby in The Letter (a film that would star Bette Davis in 1940), he wrote two more vehicles for her to put on. By the late 1920s she was a producer and theatre manager as well as a name in lights.

She also began dabbling in early silent films around this time. It would be the outbreak of WWII that would send her to America and shift her career to film. She made her Hollywood debut in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca. It was a small part but she shone in it. As Laurence Oliver’s sister, she brought levity and humanity to a tense otherworldly film.

She followed with another supporting role in That Hamilton Woman, a Vivien Leigh vehicle released just after Gone With the Wind. The semi-historic costume drama centers around a music hall courtesan in the Napoleonic wars. Cooper plays Lord Horatio Nelson’s wife, one of the Hamilton woman’s conquests.

Cooper’s breakout film role came in 1942 opposite Bette Davis in Now, Voyager. It’s a romantic melodrama where Davis changes and grows emotionally and psychologically. Gladys Cooper plays older than her age as a domineering and disapproving mother. She struts and commands with her clipped tongue and ramrod straight posture. The role earned Cooper an Oscar nomination.

One of my favorite of Cooper’s screen roles is as Mrs. Hamilton in The Bishop’s Wife. She plays a wealthy widow who promises to donate money to make the bishop’s cathedral a reality. Her demands, however, are thawed by the charm of an angel played by Cary Grant. Really, what chance did she have against that? Once again, her gentility and her humor shine through in this role.

Gladys Cooper joined the cast of The Pirate in 1948. Vincente Minnelli directed the colorful if haphazard musical starring Gene Kelly and Judy Garland. Cooper plays Garland’s aunt Inez in the swashbuckling, Caribbean-based adventure. While she has arranged a respectable but boring marriage for her orphaned niece, she is a kind, if old-fashioned, chaperone.

Following WWII, Gladys Cooper returned to England to revitalize her stage career again. She would spend the next three decades under the footlights, as well as in front of the film camera. She appeared in three episodes of the television classic The Twilight Zone, and co-starred in a slick 1960s show called The Rogues. But her focus was the British stage.

She returned to Hollywood for the lavish production of My Fair Lady. Cooper dazzles as Henry Higgins’s mother. She is sharp-witted and sharply-dressed. The scene where she dresses down her son with Eliza, right in front of his moody self, makes me snort laugh every time. She received her third Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress for her role as Mrs. Higgins.

The actress was awarded the Order of the British Empire and named Dame Gladys Cooper by Queen Elizabeth II in 1967. She was quoted as saying: “Retire? Whatever for? Who cares how old I am? Who cares how long it was since I first played Peter Pan?” Unfortunately she died from pneumonia in 1971, before realizing her plans of taking her Tony-award nominated role in the The Chalk Garden to Canada.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

“We were astonished by the beauty and refinement of the art displayed by the objects surpassing all we could have imagined — the impression was overwhelming.” — Howard Carter

The wider world had its first case of Egyptomania when Napoleon’s campaign reached the Egyptian region at the turn of the 19th Century. His presence there only lasted a couple years, but the captivating images and stories made their way back to France and beyond. In 1822, Frenchman Jean-François Champollion cracked the code of hieroglyphics using the Rosetta Stone, brought back from Egypt by Napoleon’s troops.

The next century featured both scholarship on the ancient civilization as well as popular cultural influence. Obelisks, like the Washington Monument and Cleopatra’s Needle, were erected. Sphinx-like figures and lotus motifs became popular garden monuments. Highgate Cemetery opened an entire section called Egyptian Avenue. Fascination with the region’s mysterious past has never truly waned in popular imagination.

In 1922, archaeologist Howard Carter, financial backer Lord Carnarvon, the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon, and his daughter Lady Evelyn Herbert, uncovered the sealed entrance to a tomb in the Valley of the Kings. The discovery of an unopened, and thus unraided, burial chamber was exciting for historical understanding, as well as feeding the frenzy for exotic artifacts.

Carter started his career in Egyptology at the country’s antiquities service. He oversaw and organized excavations along the Nile. He lost his government job after a confrontation between local guards and French officials. He began working with Carnarvon in 1907, with the two researching Egyptian history and making plans. Carter’s deep local knowledge and contacts helped the two figure out where best to dig next.

From his family seat at Highclere Castle (known now as the setting for Downton Abbey), Lord Carnarvon had a number of interests and pursuits, none of them inexpensive. Car racing, horse racing, and flying were just a few of his dangerous hobbies. He had sunk a considerable fortune into the Egyptian digs as well.

Their find of the tomb of King Tutankhamen relaunched the world of mummies, curses, temples, hidden treasures, and buried secrets. The film world was no exception.

A number of silent films featured reanimated mummies. German director Karl Freund joined the lineup of Universal creature features with Boris Karloff as the undead pharaoh Imhotep in The Mummy (1932). The plot rather resembles the previous year’s Frankenstein and Dracula with a monster obsessing over a woman he seeks to make his unwilling bride.

While not actual sequels, there were also a series of “Mummy” films made through the 1940s with Lon Cheney, Jr. They made The Mummy’s Hand, Mummy’s Tomb, The Mummy’s Ghost and The Mummy’s Curse. He was a busy mummy. Dozens of mummy movies have been made since.

In the late 1970s, treasures from King Tut’s tomb made a multi-city tour of America, attracting eight million visitors. Tut’s gold and lapis iconic headdress stared out at the world from the cover of “National Geographic.”

Less seriously, it inspired Steve Martin to write and perform his now-famous King Tut song on “Saturday Night Live.”

Shades of Egyptomania can also be found in the works of Agatha Christie, which are often brought to the screen. Christie was married to an archaeologist and often accompanied him on expeditions. Her tales set on the hot sands lent themselves to mystery and exoticism.

One of the more popular Poirot tales is Death On the Nile, having been adapted numerous times. Casting agents have a ball putting together ensembles of incredibly famous actors for this title. The Peter Ustinov edition, from 1978, stars Angela Lansbury, Bette Davis, Mia Farrow, Maggie Smith, and David Niven. A more recent adaptation is a slick production with Annette Bening, Kenneth Branagh, Russell Brand, Gal Gadot, Jennifer Saunders, and more.

Poirot fans can also indulge in David Suchet in Evil Under The Sun (2002) and Murder in Mesopotamia (2001) — both centered around an archaeological dig gone wrong.

Egyptomania also manifested in the tomb raider genre. The adventure movies feature a loose plot around a tomb or artifact, and the hero has to get to it before the bad guys. There’s booby traps, maps, codes, and secret chambers. Heavy on fun and light on historical accuracy, it’s a genre that always pleases the audience.

Archaeology professor Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., was introduced to audiences in Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981). His task is to prevent the bad guys from getting the Ark of the Covenant, and the adventure leads to a hidden temple in the sands of Egypt (only found using a mystical amulet).

After the massive hit of Romancing the Stone (1984), the cast reunited for another round in Jewel of the Nile (1985). Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner team up to find a fabled gem in the Arabian desert.

Characteristics of the monster film and the tomb raider genre are mashed together in The Mummy (1999). It’s set in 1923 and shares some story ideas from its predecessor (and Rachel Weisz’s character is named Evelyn Carnahan in what cannot possibly be a coincidence). It too spawned a number of sequels and prequels.

It took decades until after the discovery of King Tut for scientists to begin investigating the ruler’s life and death. Numerous forensic tests, and various historical records, suggest he may have been murdered.

At the very least, he died incredibly young. In 2015, Ben Kinglsey starred in the miniseries Tut (2015), which imagined a narrative of the boy king’s reign.

Even movies that aren’t focused on the dynasties of ancient Egypt can’t help but be influenced by the romantic notions of desert nights. The English Patient (1996) receives his severe burns crashing his plane near an archaeological dig. Moses in The Ten Commandments (1956) has a foe in Ramses the pharaoh.

Even with today’s advanced technology both for finding artifacts and analyzing them in the laboratory, there will always be mystery about the ancient culture. Our fascination with Egypt – or more accurately, our imaginings of it – show no signs of fading.

“Though I was satisfied that I was on the verge of perhaps a magnificent find, probably one of the missing tombs that I had been seeking for many years, I was much puzzled by the smallness of the opening in comparison with those of other royal tombs in the valley.” — Howard Carter

Originally written for DVD Netflix

The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) has become a sleeper hit with audiences and a darling with critics. It’s a witty, dark film with some stunning performances. And there is nothing quite like it, at least in recent years. All these aspects allow it to stand out against a loud and brash superhero universe or a saccharine-laced animated bobble-head.

Shot entirely in Ireland, highlighting the stark landscape. It’s rocky and unforgiving, yet stunningly beautiful. It’s quiet. It’s bleak. It’s simple.

And if that’s how you like your movies, you need to watch this one. But if you don’t want to read about symbolism or parallels, you’re going to want to skip the rest of this post.

If you’re worried about spoilers, I won’t give away anything that you can’t glean from the trailer anyhow.

Set in spring of 1923 – precisely a century ago – on a small island of the mainland of Ireland, Banshees is on the surface about two friends having a falling out. Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson) has tired of his companion Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell) – in English, Patrick Sullivan, if that Gaelic spelling confused you. Pádraic innocently doesn’t understand why his steady and stalwart friend refuses to talk to him any longer. Colm, a fiddle player and folk music composer, feels his life is slipping away with nothing to show for it, and Pádraic is only taking up his remaining time when he could be composing and leaving a legacy.

“I just don’t have a place for dullness in me life anymore,” he says.

Pádraic doesn’t take Colm very seriously, so Colm threatens to cut off one of his fiddle-playing fingers every time Pádraic talks to him. No one in the small village quite believes it – until Colm throws a severed finger at Pádraic’s front door and stalks away. Thus begins the feud on Inisherin.

The setting – time and place – are crucial to the allegory set out in Banshees. In spring of 1923, Ireland was in the midst of a civil war. Occasionally, the sounds of artillery fire can be heard on Inisherin, but the war itself does not affect their daily lives. Having won the right to home rule by fighting the British about five years previously, the young Irish republic faced a number of challenges in creating a new government (A great movie about the politics of this time is Michael Collins). Leaders who were close allies in the fight for independence found themselves against one another when it came to running the country.

In short, some, like Collins, believed Ireland’s best chance to be a successful independent country was to accept the treaty offered by the British, which included the annexation of the six northern counties. In his estimation, continued hostilities against the British was unsustainable and would be foolhardy, leaving all of Ireland in British rule. While not ideal, it would give Ireland a chance to strengthen as a nation and negotiate from a stronger standpoint later.

Others, like Eamon de Valera, were against the treaty as it relinquished Northern Ireland and stipulated commonwealth standing. In his mind, this treaty didn’t go far enough to separate Ireland from its oppressors and didn’t honor the sacrifice of those who fought for independence.

This divide resulted in a year-long war between the two ideologies, each with the same goal: a free and independent Ireland.

Colm and Pádraic’s feud does just mirror a distant battle. It is the essence of this internal conflict. Colm is anti-treaty. He represents old Ireland, tradition over modernity. He values art and creation, and, above all, music. He wishes to leave something that will be talked about for hundreds of years. However many fingers he is forced to lose – or however many counties he is forced to forfeit – he will never capitulate. He will make music regardless.

Pádraic is younger, more mutable. He sees value in kindness and has a measure of hope and innocence still within. He doesn’t understand why multiple attempts to negotiate a peace with Colm fail. He has tried every angle he can think of. When he realizes Colm has only positively reacted to his more visceral outbursts, Pádraic keeps upping the ante. And when Pádraic experiences a loss, however collateral to the feud, he is finally pushed to take drastic action.

Interestingly, when Pádraic is punched by a ne’er-do-well policeman (a stand-in for British occupiers in more ways than one), Colm silently picks him up and helps him home. It’s a reminder that “no one punches my little brother but me.” When pushed from the outside, two sides of the Irish conflict will coalesce against a common enemy. Colm doesn’t hate Pádraic, but he will not budge from his position, even if it results in the loss of his fingers, and his ability to play fiddle.

The women in Banshees are secondary but important characters. Pádraic’s sister Siobhán tries to be a peacemaker between the two at first. She is blunt, smart, and fearless. She will tell anyone what they need to hear, whether they like it or not. The literary one in the small Súilleabháin family, I like to think she represents the influential writer Dorothy MacArdle. MacArdle was an outspoken independent thinker who eventually sided with anti-treaty sentiment. She went on to write one of the seminal works on the fight for an independent Ireland, The Irish Republic (She also wrote three wonderful novels, one of which was adapted into The Uninvited (1944)). MacArdle ultimately sided with Eamon de Valera and the anti-treaty stance though she and de Valera always felt uneasy with the violence against their own countrymen that ensued.

Siobhán is clear headed and thoughtful. Her opinions are strong but they are rooted in studied consideration. And when logic seems to have escaped Colm and Pádraic’s fight, she extricates herself in search of more learned people, or at least people interested in becoming learned.

Then there is the old woman, Mrs. McCormick, who hovers on the edges of everything. She is the oracle, the banshee who warns. She represents the ancient aspects of Ireland, the vaguely supernatural, connection to the natural, and the magical. She appears unexpectedly but precisely as though she has the ability to simply materialize. She dispenses wisdom without making judgment – or at least, she does not share her opinions. She simply points out the obvious, reminds people what is right in front of them.

Mrs. McCormick is also central to the overarching fabulist structure of the story. Ireland’s traditions include rich storytelling and fables, often woven into the deep Catholic presence in the country. A large statue of Mary, painted bright blue and white, is one the few colorful things on the island. It stands at the fork in the road, overseeing all the choices the villagers make – just as the banshee does, draped in her cloak.

The film takes joy in molding the story as a fable, making it feel like a tale from the past as much as it is an allegory for the immediate war on the islanders’ doorstep. Inisherin, translated as Island of Ireland, isn’t a real place, but its misty nonexistence only underscores the fabulism carefully constructed by the movie. Inisherin is real only on the screen, but the complications of friendship, identity, and legacy are enduring.

Originally published for DVD Netflix

In the meantime, joy is brought back to the household by Dudley’s easy manner and gentle antics. The more the family and congregation shows affection for the angel, the more frustrated the bishop becomes. The bishop and his wife will have to find a solution to once again have peace in their home.

The Bishop’s Wife was shot by the masterful Gregg Toland, who specialized in shot composition and deep focus photography. There are a number of supporting role performances that add heart: Gladys Cooper as an aging heiress, Elsa Lanchester as a dotty cook, Monty Woolley as a historian and friend, and James Gleason as Sylvester the taxi driver.

The film is on the surface lighthearted with gentle teasing, goofy capers, and an occasional divine trick. Cleverly, the viewer also begins to prefer spending time with Dudley. It’s Cary Grant as an angel—who wouldn’t? Indeed, Dudley must make the heartbreaking decision to leave the family he has come to care for, for the good of their future. It is, of course, the right outcome, but the feeling is just a little bittersweet. Dudley’s success in making others happy must always be immediately followed by his departure as his work is done. I suppose that is what makes him an angel.

Food is central to The Bishop’s Wife. Here is a three course meal inspired by their dishes.

Appetizer: Cream cheese celery sticks

As Dudley ingratiates himself into the bishop’s home, he joins the bishop and his wife for dinner. Having his routine thrown off, the bishop forgets he is carrying a stalk of celery in his breast pocket.

Wash a few stalks of celery and chop into about 3 lengths. Mix 1 block of cream cheese, 1 packet of Italian dressing mix, ½ cup of mayo, and 1 cup of shredded mozzarella together. Spread the mix into the trough of the celery sticks and enjoy.

Main: Guinea Hen and Caesar Salad

When Dudley takes the bishop’s wife to Michel’s, they order guinea hen, and a restaurant staffer is mixing up a huge bowl of fresh Caesar salad. While the nosy church ladies interrupt their lunch, I imagine Michel cooked something like this.

Make a brine from 10 cups of water, 10 garlic cloves, 5 rosemary sprigs (chopped), 3 thyme sprigs (chopped). Simmer the liquid for about 30 minutes. Take it off the stove then add 10 more cups of water, 2½ tablespoons light brown sugar, 2 tablespoons salt, and 1 teaspoon white peppercorns. Let the mixture cool. Once cooled, submerge a 3 ½ – 4 pound guinea hen and place in the refrigerator. It should soak for at least a day and is safe to brine for 3 days.

When you’re ready to cook the bird, preheat the oven to 350℉. Place the hen on some sort of drip catching pan (a rack over a cookie sheet would work). Pat the bird dry of brine before putting it in the oven. The hen should have an internal temperature of 145℉ after about 40-45 minutes.

Dessert: Broiled grapefruit

I definitely did not know this was a thing, but the bishop and his wife enjoy some at the dinner table. It might be a refreshing dessert.

Turn on the broiler. Cut the grapefruits in half and loosen the sections from the rind. Place them cut-side up on a baking sheet. Sprinkle each slice with one tablespoon brown sugar, then drizzle with melted butter and a little honey. Sprinkle cinnamon over the tops if you like. Broil grapefruit until the sugar melts and caramelizes. It should take about 2 to 5 minutes, but watch them so they don’t burn. Sprinkle tops with flaky sea salt, and serve.

Originally written for DVD Netflix and Feeding America

One of our neighbors, a pipe-smoking old man with an antique MG and a wicked smile, used to tell me stories about growing up during the Depression, going to big band dances, and serving in World War II. One day, he pulled out a sort of yearbook from his time in the U.S. Army. It had pictures of the various units and bases he served at.

Then, he pointed out a small group photo in front of a plane. My friend, Al Britton, was there with his squadron. With Jimmy Stewart. That day, I learned that they flew together and that Captain Stewart was every bit as kind and down-to-earth as you would think and hope he was.

In that moment, an American icon became a real, tangible person to me.

The kindly Elwood P. Dowd, the insistent L.B. Jefferies, the hypnotized Scottie Ferguson, the fast-talking MacCauley O’Connor, the complicated Ransom Stoddard. The man who was always billed as James Stewart, but was so beloved that an entire country called him Jimmy. The man whose Oscar was on display on a shelf in his father’s hardware store for more than three decades.

Stewart eventually became a colonel during WWII and flew active combat missions. When he officially retired from the service in 1968, it was with the rank of brigadier general.

They say you don’t want to meet your heroes in case they disappoint you. It seems that with Stewart, it was the opposite. Thankfully, we can still visit with him through his impressive library of films.

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

Though he was nominated four more times, this is the only performance that won Stewart won the Best Actor Oscar. It wasn’t his first movie, but it was the one that made him a star and a household name.

The Flight of the Phoenix (1965)

In a film that may have hit a bit too close to home, Stewart and his crash-landed crew must engineer a way out of the desert. It’s a fabulous adventure film with a star-studded cast.

Harvey (1950)

Stewart often called this his favorite film role. It’s a joyous, feel-good comedy. He also performed the live play in London and was tickled when a small child yelled out, “Where’s the rabbit?”

Vertigo (1958)

Recently named by the BFI as the best film of all time, Vertigo is certainly a must-watch for any fan of Stewart or Hitchcock. Some have criticized its depiction of a man obsessed, but I think that is precisely the point. Decide for yourself.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)

Besides comedies, dramas, and thrillers, Stewart also made dozens of Westerns. In this one, Stewart is a U.S. Senator returning to the small town he once protected. Through flashbacks, it tells a complicated tale of right versus wrong.

Rear Window (1954)

This was the first Stewart movie I ever saw (I think I was about five) and it’s still my favorite. I’ve watched it a hundred times and still find new things. It’s not his flashiest or funniest, but I think his subtlety is what makes the film work. The eagle-eyed will even see a real photo of Stewart in a flak jacket in the background of his apartment.

Originally written by DVD Netflix

]]> https://www.mwgerard.com/as-good-as-the-book-the-uninvited-1944/ Thu, 27 Oct 2022 15:03:25 +0000 https://www.mwgerard.com/?p=19216

An old home on a windswept cliff. Rumors in the village about why it’s been empty so long. A reticent old military man and his impressionable granddaughter.

Then comes a young, bright, and confident brother and sister eager to freshen up the home and escape the city. They are enamored with the house—despite its quirks—and convince the Commander to sell it to them. It doesn’t take long before odd occurrences begin… and they start to wonder if there is something to the ghost stories, after all.

Lewton and Tourneur’s sophomore project, I Walked With A Zombie, was informed by both men’s ability to delve into the depths of human psychology, fear, the unknown and discrimination. They investigated a reality that was made up of the intangible, a tenuous truth.

Of Tourneur, Martin Scorcese says: “It’s appropriate that so many of Jacques Tourneur’s movies deal with the supernatural and the paranormal, because his own touch as a filmmaker is elusive yet tangible, like the presence of a ghost—in a way, you could say that Tourneur’s touch is so refined and subtle that he haunts his films.”

The coupling of fear and desire, beauty and terror is prevalent in Tourneur’s direction style. His shots often consist of dual impressions. The opening scene is set in Canada—clean, white and properly British—yet most of the action takes place in the West Indies, shown as hot, humid, overgrown, dense, and suggesting a sense of closeness and decay.

Everyday objects take on sinister appearances, and everyday people turn out to be monsters in disguise.

“Everything seems beautiful because you don’t understand. Those flying fish – they are not leaping for joy. They’re jumping in terror. Bigger fish want to eat them. That luminous water – it takes its gleam from millions of tiny dead bodies. It’s the glitter of putrescence. There’s no beauty here – it’s death and decay. … Everything good dies here – even the stars.”

The zombie herself presents the main synthetic binary—life and death. In her zombified state, she is both alive and dead, yet she is fully neither. She still has breath and motion but she is completely devoid of emotion, personality, or recognition. Nearing the end of the film, when neither Western nor West Indian medicine has healed her, characters argue over what her state truly is.

Perhaps she disliked humans because she could so clearly see what they were capable of. Her stories and novels are at one level entertaining for their suspense and mystery, but they remain classics for their insight into the worst psychological aspects a mind can devise. And for this reason, they are both intriguing and excellent source material for thoughtful, disturbing films.

Her most famous character is likely Tom Ripley, a parasitic serial killer who somehow finds sympathy with audiences. There were ultimately five Ripley books as he played cat-and-mouse across Europe, always about to get caught before slithering away to ingratiate himself somewhere else once again. It was adapted in 1960 as Purple Noon, a French film directed by Rene Clement and starring Alain Delon. This version leans heavily on the claustrophobia of a yacht sailing around the Mediterranean.

The 1999 version places music – primarily bebop jazz – as the throughline. Both feature a cunning Tom Ripley sent to Italy by Dickie Greenleaf’s father. His task is to bring Dickie back to America, and reality. The younger Greenleaf has no intention of leaving his beautiful fiancée or the sunny cliffs of Italy for a boring corporate job. The three enjoy living large under the Mediterranean sun for a time, until Tom begins to see he will soon be left behind by the smart set and high life he has grown accustomed to. Murder and subterfuge ensues.

Highsmith’s first novel, Strangers on a Train, was the product of a writer’s residency. She was recommended for the retreat by none other than Truman Capote.

The novel is startling in its simplicity. Two men strike up a conversation on a train ride. They wonder, hypothetically, if there truly is such a thing as a perfect crime. Bruno proposes the two “exchange” murders – he will kill Guy’s unfaithful wife and Guy will kill Bruno’s father. With no connection to the victims, the police will be stymied by lack of motive and both will reap the benefits.

Hitchcock adapted the book into a film of the same name, bringing even more notoriety to the author. The movie is dark and blunt, with noir elements, and often overlooked in a crowded filmography like Hitchcock’s. The style is very reflective of his popular television show as well.

Highsmith wrote The Price of Salt after the hit of Strangers on a Train, but it would be 38 years before the reading public knew it was her work. It was published under the pseudonym of Claire Morgan, as both she and her publishers feared it was too far afield from her other work, and she might be labeled subversive.

Salt was a clear-eyed, dramatic romance novel about two women who fall in love and begin to navigate a world that won’t accept them. Without sensationalism, it seeks to cast the lesbian relationship as fraught with everyday hopes and frustrations. In 2015, Todd Haynes (the unofficial heir to the Douglas Sirk film) adapted it into Carol, with Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett.

Two Faces of January plays on Highsmith’s favored theme of an average person getting caught up in unthinkable events – and then digging themselves further into a hole. A vacationing couple befriend a local man, then accidentally kill a Greek official. The three escape with fake passports and thus begins a series of bad decisions as karma continues to catch up to them. The film is lovely to look at, with plenty of beautiful locations. The increasingly complicated plot is handled well by Viggo Mortensen and Oscar Issac.

Highsmith’s fourth novel is less of a tightly-scripted game and a bit more of a philosophical exploration on the nature of obsession and stalking. The heroine Jenny is watched by disgruntled divorcee Robert. He watches her through the windows of her home, until she catches him one night. Instead of raising the alarm, she invites him in and the two grow close. Jenny sees Robert’s appearance as a sign and she breaks off her own engagement. The two’s relationship spirals, causing collateral damage. The Cry of the Owl tries to pull these pieces together to make a more typical Highsmith thriller rather than let it be a slow, psychological burn.

A Kind of Murder is based on Highsmith’s third novel The Blunderer. Seen as a follow-up to Strangers on a Train, this novel brings the suspense into the domestic realm. Clara’s bad behavior has finally pushed her husband Walter over the edge. He makes plans for a divorce – then she turns up dead. He insists upon his innocence but the investigator officer becomes obsessed, and dangerously so. Patrick Wilson and Jessica Biel use their dramatic chops for this swanky murder mystery.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Man vs. Nature

While no one person can truly conquer nature, many set out to find their way in the great outdoors. Cheryl Strayed wrote a memoir about hiking the entire Pacific Crest Trail, by herself. It was adapted into the film Wild. In the 1970s, Thor Heyerdahl set out to prove it was possible for ancient Pacific Islanders to traverse the wide ocean. The film Kon-Tiki tells the story. The documentary Free Solo lets us see rock climber Alex Honnold attempt to climb Half Dome, with no safety ropes. The Revenant recounts aspects of the true story of Hugh Glass who lived on the edge of nature until he could exact revenge on his (attempted) killers.

Giant Rocks

John Ford’s revenge western The Searchers filmed on location in Monument Valley, Utah. It’s so iconic, it appears in dozens of films including 2001: A Space Odyssey, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Back to the Future: Part III. The similar Devil’s Tower in Wyoming figures prominently in the plot of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and in South Dakota, Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint run over the bald heads of presidents at Mount Rushmore. These landmarks are so vast and so iconic in the American vernacular, no studio facsimile could imitate the real thing.

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Famous Trees

Elegant trees have a way of making us feel grounded. The live oak in Forrest Gump provides a safe haven for Jenny and Forrest. Sitting there, the two can ignore their horrendous homes. In Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves the tree at Sycamore Gap serves as an important waymarker for the do-gooder. It also marks the spot for an important treasure in Shawshank Redemption. An ancient yew tree is central to the identity of Christopher Tietjens in Parade’s End.

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Empty Deserts

The dry expanse of the desert is enchantingly beautiful on screen. It was David Lean’s most magnificent canvas in Lawrence of Arabia and the makeshift runway for the Flight of the Phoenix. The stunning biopic of Gertrude Bell, Queen of the Desert, shows the desert in a romantic light, as indeed does the English Patient. The desert also becomes another world when it stands in for the planet Tatooine or Arrakis in both adaptations of Dune.

So, explore the outdoors from your living room, and find some inspiration for your next trip.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Whether calling over a long distance or a couple of blocks, every handset had its own code. Before dials, users needed help from an operator who would literally connect the ends of wires via a switchboard. Phone numbers were combinations of words (an exchange) and numbers, like Pennsylvania 6-5000, Murray 5-9975, or Butterfield 8. Swanky.

There were also party lines, common in rural areas. These communication loops serviced multiple households, meaning one could pick up the phone and hear other people already having a conversation. It was common to eavesdrop as well as share important information with neighbors.

Phones indicated someone was calling by literally ringing a bell. The term “ringing off the hook” referred to a phone ringing so much that it rattled the handset loose. There was also a time when one got a ‘busy signal’ if the number you were trying to call was in use. There was no call waiting, or getting an answering machine.

Now, phones are wireless, and do much more than make calls but these films make telephones an integral part of the plot. The scenes are ones that will never be made again because the cultural use of phones and communication has changed so much.

Bibliophiles love libraries, and bookstores, for lots of reasons. A huge building, filled with books, bursting with information and stories just waiting to be discovered. Knowing it’s there, and being overwhelmed by it, is part of the excitement.

Bibliophiles also love everything about books. We love the smell of old books and new books. We love looking at marbled endpapers. We love finding forgotten bookmarks tucked into pages and the scent of wood polish. We love thinking about books and sniffing books.

These are some of my favorite libraries and bookstores depicted on film.

Funny Face (1954)

Audrey Hepburn works in a bookstore that stocks esoteric philosophical titles. She is dowdy and mousey (as much as Audrey Hepburn can be) and loves to organize the store. She is quite annoyed with the camera crew and set designers that show up and make light of her work. The store becomes the setting for the musical number, “How Long Has This Been Goin’ On?”

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

As Indiana Jones, Marcus, and Dr. Schneider follow the clues to find the Holy Grail, they end up in a library in Venice. They cross reference the notes in grail diary and begin searching the beautiful historic building with tall stacks of antique books. This sequence also features one of the funnier jokes of the trilogy.

Beauty and the Beast (1991)

I’m definitely not the first to covet the Beast’s library. I’m not advocating for kidnapping or imprisoning young women because you are cranky, but at least Belle was an avid reader with access to an amazing collection. If your library needs stairs to reach the second story of books, you’re doing something right.

Ghostbusters (1998)

The classic ‘80s comedy starts in the esteemed New York Public Library. The eponymous heroes are called to investigate and clear a supernatural disturbance wandering in the basement. After witnessing a spirit empty the card catalog, they see a librarian just looking for some peace and quiet. It would have been nice if they could have let her stay and catch up on some reading, now that she has unlimited time.

Music Man (1962)

Meredith Wilson’s musical is enjoying a popular revival on Broadway with Sutton Foster and Hugh Jackman. But if you can’t make it to Times Square, the classic film with Shirley Jones is available. Jones plays a stern librarian, with her own song (“Marian the Librarian”) set in a small town library branch. Don’t we all wish our local library had spiral staircases?

Clue (1985)

It might be the least reverent use of a library, but it’s no less enjoyable. Loosely based on the board game, this cult classic brings together a group of strangers who begin dying one by one. It’s hilarious and more than one important scene takes place in the mansion’s understated library.

Se7en (1995)

I know it’s a masterpiece, but I’ve only watched Se7en once. There was no one particular scene, just a general queasiness. That was enough for me. And I do recall a couple of pivotal scenes in a library as the detectives are both tracking the murderer’s check out history (not legal, by the way) and do their own research on the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s kind of amazing how Fincher can make photocopies seem creepy.

The Bookshop (2018)

Maybe it’s cheating a bit—after all, “bookshop” is in the name, but I feel like this movie was criminally overlooked. Emily Mortimer buys an abandoned storefront in a small English village and opens a bookstore, much to the frustration of the local gentlewoman who believes anything cultural should come from her. Like Chocolat, it’s heartwarming and funny and genuine. And there are so many beautiful books to be admired.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

“Insanity runs in my family; it practically gallops.”

Is your family a bit nuts? Do your spinster aunts have bodies buried in the basement? Do you ever wonder if you are actually related to them? Mortimer Brewster certainly does in Arsenic and Old Lace (1944). This rollicking comedy is hilarious and really lets Grant exercise his zany side.

Holiday (1938)

“The world’s changing out there. There are a lot of new, exciting ideas running around. Some may be right and some may be cockeyed but they’re affecting all our lives. I want to know how I stand, where I fit in the picture, what it’s all gonna mean to me. I can’t find that out sitting behind some desk in an office, so as soon as I get enough money together, I’m going to knock off for a while.”

There are days when life feels overwhelming, that the world is spinning out of control and you can’t keep up with it, let alone do anything about it. It’s a feeling we all have from time to time.

In Holiday, Grant is newly affianced and meant to be downstairs enjoying his engagement / New Year’s Eve party. Instead, he is hiding with his sister-in-law (Katharine Hepburn) upstairs in the old nursery. They are goofing around and trying to ignore the adulthood they are faced with. It’s a funny yet bittersweet film.

The Awful Truth (1938)

“That’s the trouble with most marriages today. People are always imagining things. The road to Reno is paved with suspicions. And the first thing you know, they all end up in a divorce court.”

Divorce comedies were all the rage in the 1930s, an odd genre that lent itself to the screwball laughs audiences loved. The Awful Truth is one of the best examples, showcasing Grant and Irene Dunne’s comedy chops. The two are about to finalize their divorce but are trying to sabotage one another’s new relationships. It’s also another of the acting dog Skippy’s screen roles, best known for his portrayal of Nick and Nora Charles’s beloved Asta.

Operation Petticoat (1959)

“It’s like watching a strip tease. Don’t ask how it’s done, just enjoy what’s coming off.”

It’s his own way of saying, when life hands you lemons, etc., etc. As captain of a damaged submarine limping in for repairs, he is forced to rescue a group of stranded nurses – then they have to paint the sub pink (don’t ask, just watch it). Directed by Blake Edwards, and co-starring Tony Curtis, Grant acts as comedic anchor for the farce at sea.

His Girl Friday (1940)

“When you walk out that door, part of me will go right with you. But a whole new world’s gonna open up for you.” 

Sometimes, you just have to let someone go and hope that maybe they will come back. Interestingly, a number of Grant’s movies cast him as the man who is losing the girl, but is being a gentleman about it. Of course, the audience (and the girl) chooses him in the end, but in between is the good stuff.

This Howard Hawks classic lets Rosalind Russell shine as star reporter Hildy Johnson. It is also smart enough to allow her character to come to her own decision about Grant. A modern woman, indeed.

Notorious (1946)

“A man doesn’t tell a woman what to do. She tells herself.”

As previously mentioned, Grant’s characters have learned to step aside and let his female counterpart thrive. Ingrid Bergman’s Alicia is a force to be reckoned with, practically shivering with barely contained energy underneath her domesticated facade. Claude Rains’ inability to accept this is ultimately his downfall.

North By Northwest (1959)

“Now you listen to me, I’m an advertising man, not a red herring. I’ve got a job, a secretary, a mother, two ex-wives, and several bartenders that depend upon me, and I don’t intend to disappoint them all by getting myself ‘slightly’ killed.”

Sure, an unexpected adventure is fun, but when a person gets to a certain age, they have responsibilities. There will be a time when one has to decline the bachelor party invitation of the boys’ trip to Vegas in favor of things like… keeping your job and your health insurance. And that’s okay. Stability is something everyone needs.

If you are itching for an unlikely adventure, revisit this Hitchcock classic where an everyday ad exec is mistaken for a CIA operative, then spends the next several days trying to avoid assassins.

To Catch A Thief (1955)

“You know as well as I do: this necklace is imitation.”

It’s okay to call out the fakes of the world, especially when they want something from you. Demand and value real friendships and the real moments in life. Grant’s character has to defend his own reputation against that of an imitation cat burglar, as well as figure out who is deceiving him. Maybe don’t run away to Monaco and stage robberies along the Riviera, but at the same time: don’t accept the phonies in life.

Suspicion (1941)

“If you’re going to kill someone, do it simply.”

Setting aside the idea of murder, there is advice to be had here. Cut to the chase. If there is something in life that you want, set some goals and go for it.

Grant’s character in this film is unlike any of his others. He’s charming, but with an underlying sleaziness. He is always playing multiple sides, hoping one will pan out instead of taking his own advice and being a straight shooter.

Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948)

“Just a private joke between me and whoever my analyst is going to be.”

Don’t hold it inside. If you’re under a great deal of stress, you need to talk about it. You may think keeping it to yourself is better for everyone, but it will do more harm than good. Grant is a successful New York City ad man with an adoring wife and two whipsmart children. They decide to move to the country, opening a can of worms when they renovate an old house. He puts on a brave face and absorbs the blows, with humorous consequences.

Bringing Up Baby (1938)

“Now it isn’t that I don’t like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I’m strangely drawn toward you, but – well, there haven’t been any quiet moments.”

Everyone needs a bit of quiet time, no matter how much they love being the life of the party. After all, it’s only when we are alone with our thoughts that we can truly reflect.

Grant’s character in this fast-talking screwball comedy can’t seem to get a word in edgewise, let alone a quiet second. The misunderstandings make for some laughs but wouldn’t be healthy in real life. (Skippy the dog is also in this film).

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

“You’ll never be a first class human being or a first class woman until you’ve learned to have some regard for human frailty.”

If you get too wrapped up in your own drama (let’s face it – we all do from time to time), it’s hard to accept the faults we all have as human beings. Everyone has weaknesses, but when we pounce on one another’s mistakes instead of fixing our own, we do everyone a disservice.

Grant’s portrayal of C.K. Dexter Haven shows how granting a bit of grace and tough love allows Katherine Hepburn’s Tracy Lord to grow and improve. His character is in clear contrast to her fiancé, who requires straitlaced perfection. The lessons in this film are unmistakable and timeless.

As for something Grant himself said, “It is the law of life that if you are kind to someone you feel happy. If you are cruel you are unhappy. And if you hurt someone, you will be hurt back.”

Originally written for DVD Netflix

From a young age Fredrick Austerlitz was gyrating around the house, no doubt driving his parents crazy. He and his elder sister Adele had a popular vaudeville act that showcased their tap dance and comedy skills. They quickly outgrew the Midwest venues and landed a Broadway show in 1917. She eventually eschewed the stage to marry Lord Cavendish, the second son of the Duke of Devonshire. This left Fred, now renamed Astaire, free to find a new partner and head for Hollywood.

His first movie didn’t give him a major starring role, but it did pair him with Ginger Rogers. The two would make nine smash hits together at RKO studios. The romantic comedy plots varied little – Rogers as the reluctant woman trying to fend off Astaire’s clumsy advances – but they gave ample space for the pair to create some memorable scenes. The combination of stellar choreography, catchy American Songbook standards and gorgeous gowns made for delectable visual candy during the Great Depression.

In 1934, Astaire reprised the popular stage show in The Gay Divorcee. The comedy of errors was nominated for three Oscars marking a watershed moment in musical moviemaking. The following year, the duo returned in Top Hat, another daffy musical comedy. Their “Cheek to Cheek” number and Astaire’s “Top Hat, White Tie and Tails” are stunners. There is also a beautiful, wistful number in “Isn’t It A Lovely Day To Be Caught in the Rain” and a small cameo from Lucille Ball.

“Ginger was brilliantly effective. She made everything work for her. Actually, she made things very fine for the both of us and she deserves most of the credit for our success.” — Fred Astaire

After Follow The Fleet, Astaire and Rogers starred in Swing Time, debuting “The Way You Look Tonight,” then released Shall We Dance, probably my favorite of their films. It is full of gorgeous Gershwin tunes, including a rendition of “Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off” on roller skates. Yes, tap dancing on roller skates.

“I’m just a hoofer with a spare set of tails.” — Fred Astaire

As the 1930s came to a close, Astaire began experimenting with his starpower. He made Damsel In Distress with Joan Fonatine, George Burns, and Gracie Allen. It was the first of his films to lose money and many people consider it a weak movie, but I love it. It’s based on the hilarious book by P.G. Wodehouse, uses Burns and Allen well, has some amazing choreography from Hermes Pan, and features more Gershwin tunes.

The 1940s brought a jauntier style from Astaire. The hoofer in him came out a bit more in American songbook revues like Holiday Inn and Technicolor splendors like Easter Parade. In each, he and his co-stars debuted a number of smash hits songs for Irving Berlin, including “White Christmas,” which won the Oscar for Best Song and remains the world’s best-selling single in history. Astaire also displayed a playful yet disciplined skill in his percussive number “Drum Crazy.”

Astaire continued to experiment with camera tricks in Royal Wedding. It’s not the most engaging plot, but the “Dancing on the Ceiling” number is inventive and joyful. After Gene Kelly staged massive on-screen balletic operas in An American in Paris and Singin’ in the Rain, Astaire further innovated his filmic style with similar longform numbers.

“You know, that Gene Kelly, he’s just terrific. That’s all there is to it. He dances like crazy, he directs like crazy. I adore this guy. I really am crazy about his work.”

Astaire answered with his own ballet dream sequence starring the stunning Cyd Charisse in The Band Wagon. He is a detective searching the gritty underbelly of city, ducking murders, and fending off femme fatales. Astaire and Charisse also share a beautiful pas de deux in “Dancing In The Dark.” The two would be reunited in Silk Stockings, a musical adaptation of Ninotchka.

Astaire never considered himself a classical ballet dancer, but his grace and physicality made up for any lack of formal training. My favorite of his later films is Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn. Astaire adored working with her, and they had amazing on-screen chemistry despite their age difference. It also gave Hepburn a chance to display her own dancing skills.

“I just told my agent to forget all other projects for me. I was waiting for Audrey Hepburn. She asked for me, and I was ready. This could be the last and only opportunity I’d have to work with the great and lovely Audrey Hepburn and I was not missing it. Period.”

Astaire largely retired from musical film in the 1960s as the genre’s popularity waned. He did host a couple of That’s Entertainment compilations, he lent his voice to several animated television specials, and even showed up in small roles in movies like The Towering Inferno. Then there was the time he cut loose at the 1970s Oscars.

Astaire died at 88 a beloved actor, singer and dancer. So, yeah, he could dance a little.

“Do it big, do it right, and do it with style.” – Fred Astaire

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Started in 1988, there are currently 825 films on the registry. Some are silents, some are obscure documentaries or instructional films, and some are blockbusters. Availability is scarce on the titles that had no distribution, but of those added to the National Film Registry in 2021, DVD Netflix has a dozen available to rent. A few are known classics, but there are some hidden gems that may be fun to discover.

Based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith, Strangers on a Train (1951) was directed by Alfred Hitchcock at the height of his long, successful career. It’s a tense thriller where two strangers agree to commit a murder for each other, in an attempt to commit an untraceable, motiveless crime. When Farley Granger refuses to hold up his end, Robert Walker seeks revenge.

Sounder (1972) stars Cicely Tyson and Paul Winfield, under the direction of socially-conscious filmmaker Martin Ritt at a time when mainstream movies rarely starred African-American actors, let alone focused on their stories.

Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) successfully captured the latent unease of the greed generation by infiltrating our suburban dreams. It’s representative of the heyday of 1980s slasher films, and the image of Freddy Krueger is iconic.

The Long Goodbye (1973) was an unusual adaptation of the noirish Phillip Marlowe novel. Robert Altman chose to set it in contemporary Los Angeles, with all the moral implications the decade’s morality embodied. It was most noted for the moving camerawork if not its philosophical ambiguity.

Peter Jackson’s epic combined live action and real locations with computer-generated characters and imaginative settings in ways that had never been seen before. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) changed how the fantasy genre could be shown on the screen.

Pink Flamingos (1972) is the cult classic of camp that broke all the rules. It takes the odd and pushes it even further, resulting in a colorful, wild, hilarious, glorious film. Who can ignore Divine, in all her drag queen glory, standing with a pistol in hand? Sometimes culturally significant means controversial.

George Lucas wrapped up the original trilogy with Star Wars: Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (1984). He continued to push the boundaries of filmmaking of any genre. From large-scale puppetry to dancing Ewoks to space battles to mystical imagery, “Jedi” brings the story full circle.

Richard Pryor: Live in Concert (1979) exemplifies why Mel Brooks idolized him, why he asked the comedian to help write Blazing Saddles, and why Brooks knows neither movie would get made these days. It’s unforgiving and unflinching.

Before Silence of the Lambs, Jonathan Demme directed Talking Heads: Stop Making Sense (1984). In his signature oversized gray suit, David Byrne kicks off the live concert with the band’s famous “Psycho Killer.” Leonard Maltin called it “one of the greatest rock movies ever made,” and Pauline Kael said it was “close to perfection.”

Pixar changed the animation game with WALL-E (2008). Somehow, they made inanimate robots have a heart, and they made humans the ones without souls. As usual, the studio pushed the boundaries of animation technology but it was the imaginative storytelling that struck a chord with moviegoers.

At the turn of the 20th century, workers across multiple industries – factories, docks, sawmills, mines, and more – got together and unionized. Regardless of race, gender, and background, these workers demanded fair pay, safer working conditions, and reasonable hours. A documentary called The Wobblies (1979) outlines this surprising movement in 1901.

Everyone and anyone is welcome to nominate a film for the Registry and can do so online. The National Film Registry requires that the title be at least 10 years old and encourages people to suggest movies from all eras, types, backgrounds, and filmmakers.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

At the time Dan Simmons wrote The Terror in 2007, the final fate of the 1845 Franklin Expedition was still a mystery. Simmons’ book is a fiction, but the characters and initial situations are true. The novel, and the ill-fated real-life expedition, is the basis for the slow (frost)burn that is AMC’s The Terror.

In 1845, the British Admiralty commissioned an expedition through the Arctic in hopes of finding a trade route to the Pacific Ocean, known as the fabled Northwest Passage. Two ships, the HMS Erebus and the HMS Terror, were tasked with plotting a course through the sea ice and around the islands of Northern Canada, seeking a way through to the Bering Strait and beyond. Failing that, the ships would map uncharted areas and return with previously unknown data.

Captain John Franklin, a seasoned sailor and explorer, was given the HMS Erebus and oversaw the entire mission. Captain Francis Crozier helmed the HMS Terror and was second-in-command of the expedition. Both were experienced in survival in extreme conditions and leading men through dangerous situations.

For another 150 years, the fate of the Erebus and Terror remained a mystery. It was in this massive blank page in history that Dan Simmons wrote his epic adventure novel The Terror. For Simmons, the uncertainty of exploration becomes a backdrop for the best and worst of humanity. The extreme situations, the battle for survival, the desire for glory, and the adherence to tradition all meet in the land of the Midnight Sun. Isolation forces people to make choices they would never have to consider otherwise.

The ten-episode adaptation of the novel is an investigation into the darkest depths of the human psyche. It is a slow (frost)burn as the order of an organized expedition slips into something more chaotic. The Terror also adds an element of the supernatural.

The crew finds an Inuit woman, who they dub Lady Silence, because she will not speak to them. Lady Silence is the daughter of a shaman whose job is to control the spirit of the Tuunbaq. Who or what Tuunbaq is, she doesn’t say. In the meantime, a polar bear (or some kind of creature) is picking off members of the crew. Of course, the true terror is not from the mysterious creature, but what people will do to one another.

The show really shines in its production design. The frigidity and desolation comes through the screen, and the claustrophobia aboard the ships is palpable. The creaking boards, the stretching ropes, the swinging oil lamps are all immediately evocative of the early Victorian era of exploration.

The tight writing and impeccable visuals are led by tremendous performances by the cast. The commanders are played by Ciaran Hinds, Tobias Menzies, and Jared Harris, and they truly embody the stoic Royal Navy. Watching their veneer crack as the expedition turns dire is a masterclass in acting. Similarly, the supporting cast of sailors  and crew is a brilliant representation of the spectrum of human nature.

Perhaps naming one’s ships after Erebus, the ancient Greek god of the darkest region of the underworld and the personification of darkness itself, and a paralyzing, inhuman fear wasn’t the most forward looking plan.

Not for the faint of heart, the thoughtful, artful show does not hold back on the darker themes, but for those who enjoy psychological thrillers, with strong historic backgrounds, should take the frigid plunge into the Arctic deep and dare to face The Terror.

Learn more about the disappearance, and rediscovery of the HMS Terror and HMS Erebus here.

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Originally written for DVD Netflix

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I love the genre of heist movies. The action revolves around a singular goal—stealing a diamond, breaking out of prison, tunneling into a bank, switching out a priceless painting—but its success relies on brains, not brawn. It’s a quest, and it requires the characters to collect a crew perfect for the job, train for the heist, follow the plan, and, inevitably, think on their feet when something goes awry. A good heist movie combines tense moments with ingenuity. A great heist movie reveals that the audience was also a victim of the caper the whole time.

Nine Queens (2000)

Nueve reinas — Argentina
Two small-time con men come together on a fake postage stamp scheme. The counterfeit stamps, the famous “Nine Queens,” pose a chance for them to make a quick profit and fund their desperation. The plan goes sour when the fake stamps are stolen from them and they are left with nothing to fence. The film was made for only $1.3 million, but has earned critical and audience acclaim. It’s now considered a classic in Argentina. Instead of fancy pyrotechnics, the film relies on great acting, superb writing, and simple, effective camera work.

The Aura (2005)

El aura — Argentina
From the same director and lead actor as Nueve reinas, this neo-noir thriller is not a typical heist story. Instead of plotting a slick theft, the lead character is obsessed with committing the perfect crime. When the opportunity to complete someone else’s heist presents itself, he cannot resist. In a sort of heist in reverse, the film traces his steps as he plants each clue. Rather than the casual urban setting of many heist films, this one takes place in the secluded and beautiful Patagonian forest.

Elevator to the Gallows (1958)

Ascenseur pour l’échafaud — France

The debut film of legendary New Wave director Louis Malle is a slow unraveling of a doomed heist. Black-and-white photography, sad trumpet jazz, lazy drags on cheap cigarettes, lonely walks in the rain—it has all the hallmarks of that brand of French cool. When a man’s perfect plan to murder his boss, take his money, run off with his wife, and make it look like a suicide are foiled by one tiny detail, it sets in motion a series of missed connections that jeopardizes the entire scheme.

Rififi (1955)

Du rififi chez les hommes — France
A quintessential heist film that straddles the line between gritty urban noir and mod cat burglar New Wave, Rififi is probably best known for its 30-minute sequence without dialogue as the criminals pull off their caper. The movie also gives a fair amount of screen time to the aftermath of the heist. The black-and-white deep focus cinematography is so rich that you can read the headline on the newspaper across the street. It’s beautiful to look at and elevates the film above a typical gangster flick.

The Deep (1977)

After Jaws, Robert Shaw made another aquatic-based thriller. In The Deep, a scuba-diving couple finds a shipwreck and among the detritus is a cache of small vials. Their discovery sets off a frenzy of criminals trying to get their hands on it. The film was shot in Bermuda and features a number of scenic and suspenseful submerged scenes. The production also used the world’s largest underwater set (at the time), built specifically for The Deep. It was also the first to use a newly-invented underwater lighting rig.

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)

What one assumes would just be a basic monster movie, is actually a thoughtful science fiction doomed romance. It also features a beautiful creature costume (designed by a woman) and some gorgeous underwater photography. It was even filmed in 3D, though few people were able to see it that way on its initial release. One has to imagine watching Gillman swim just underneath the unwitting Julie Adams would have been even creepier. The subaqueous scenes were filmed in the crystal clear waters of Wakulla Springs, Florida.

Dangerous When Wet (1953)

With any Esther Williams, it’s always fun to see what excuse the filmmakers have for getting her into a pool. A three-time U.S. National champion swimmer, Williams found her way onto the screen when Louis B. Meyer decided MGM needed its own athletic star. A number of her movies featured underwater scenes, but one of the most memorable is when she swam with Tom & Jerry. In Dangerous When Wet she is training to swim across the English Channel. During a dream sequence she performs an undersea ballet sequence with the animated cat and mouse.

Splash (1984)

In a twist on the selkie transformation myth, Daryl Hannah plays a mermaid curious about the world above. She finds a lost wallet belonging to Tom Hanks and decides to find the owner. It’s a sweet, unlikely romance, directed by Ron Howard and was a huge hit in 1984. The underwater scenes were filmed not in the East River (obviously) but in the Bahamas. Hannah’s mermaid tail was a working one, taking eight hours to put on, and she did her own swimming stunts. “It was a learning process on how not only to make it stay on and look seamless,” she said, “but to weigh it enough to get me below the surface but not so much that I’d sink to the bottom.”

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954)

A rollicking adventure based on the Jules Verne novel, this Disney adaptation stars James Mason, Peter Lorre, and Kirk Russell. With a mix of high production design, soundstage locations, and underwater sets, it’s a visual feast. Being that it takes place almost entirely on a submarine, there are a number of undersea segments. Watching people walk along the bottom of the ocean floor in old-timey diving suits is pretty great. Filmed primarily in the Bahamas and Jamaica, the famous giant squid fight was (re)shot on a studio backlot.

The Thief of Bagdad (1924)

This fantasy extravaganza is inspired by the stories in 1,001 Nights. Released in 1924, it stars a gymnastic Douglas Fairbanks as a swashbuckling thief who completes various quests. The special effects are stunning and imaginative. There is something special about these early films that were still experimenting with the form. The underwater scene, where Fairbanks fights off a giant sea crab, is truly creative.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Singin’ In The Rain (1952)

During the eponymous number, the radiant Gene Kelly splashes and plays on a rainy street corner. He ignores the foul weather instead turning it into a playground. His umbrella becomes a toy and is used for anything but keeping the rain off his back.

The Avengers (1962-68)

Before The Kingsman, there was The Avengers. A pithy, mod British spy television show, its male lead (Patrick MacNee) carried a black umbrella fitted with a hidden gun. Like a gadget from James Bond’s Q, the umbrella went with him everywhere, got him and Mrs. Peel (Diana Rigg) out of many scrapes, and always kept him looking dashing.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

A sort of pop-art musical set in an umbrella shop, this film is full of bright color and lilting songs. Like Moulin Rouge it centers around a young couple that have to navigate the competing interests of love and life. It was nominated for five Oscars.

Mary Poppins (1964)

Perhaps the most famous umbrella of all belongs to a woman named Mary Poppins. She floats in to Edwardian London to become a governess. She, her chimney-sweep friend Bert, and her two charges engage in delightful escapades, always with the talking umbrella at her side.

My Fair Lady (1964)

In the early 1900s, high society women kept their delicate complexions safe from the sun with parasols. These intricate, decorative umbrellas were useless against the rain but kept direct sunshine off the face, and had the glorious side effect of a lovely, flirtatious glow around the lady. No one—not even guttersnipe Eliza Doolittle—would go to the Royal Ascot without one.

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1978)

Young women in an Australian boarding school had to be especially careful of the outback’s burning sun. Director Peter Weir uses lacy parasols and a soft palette to great effect in this unsettling and mysterious drama of missing girls. Parasols become the perfect metaphor for a thin veil between wild nature and prim and proper society.

Originally written for DVD Netflix

Like millions of other people, I binge-watched WandaVision this spring. But while most were likely working out how the series fits within the Marvel Cinematic Universe, I was much more intrigued with the various homages to classic television. Sets, costumes, camerawork, and dialogue were all adjusted to mimic episodes of Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, The Brady Bunch, Family Ties, and more. My favorite was the send up of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Everything—down to the geometric couch pillows—was spot on.

The show centers on Rob and Laura Petrie, living the quintessential suburban life. Rob is the head writer for the popular variety program. Rob and his writing team area tasked with coming up with original material for an exacting boss. Meanwhile, Laura gets into the usual domestic scrapes. Reiner based the premise on his own experience as a writer for Sid Cesear’s Your Show of Shows.

When Reiner’s screen test to play the lead fell flat, they looked for a better lead. Dick Van Dyke was plucked from a short but popular stint on Broadway. Reiner tapped Mary Tyler Moore to play opposite Van Dyke. The two had strong onscreen chemistry, matching one another note for note, step for tip tapping step.

Even with its mod 1960s sensibility, its comedy is timeless. The Petrie family remains relatable six decades later. This immutability is due largely to its creator Carl Reiner.

“Absurdism is a philosophical perspective which holds that the efforts of humanity to find meaning or rational explanation in the universe ultimately fail because no such meaning exists…. Absurdism implies a tragic tone and feelings of frustration that arise out of the contradiction between the human quest for the meaning of life and its inaccessibility.” —New World Encyclopedia

Storytelling often brings humans to the edge of what makes us most uneasy. Existential crisis is a common worry throughout civilization. The theme of the absurd—and the reminder to live life rather than seek to understand it—is seen in many stories. Though it’s rooted in pointlessness, there is significant room for humor in the absurd and a closer look often reveals a deeper commentary on life. Of course, these movies exhibit aspects of other genres as well, but these films also use odd, zany, bizarre scenarios to allow viewers to laugh at the futility of finding meaning in life.

“I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.”

— absurdist philosopher Albert Camus, The Stranger

Being There (1979)

Peter Sellers—who some might consider the king of the absurd—stars as an illiterate, addled man who loses his job as a gardener when his employer dies. Through a series of unlikely events, the unassuming man of plants finds a position tending the grounds of a powerful politician. Without knowing it, he becomes an influential presence in Washington, D.C.. The absurdity of a simpleton holding all the power and being completely unaware of it highlights just how strange popular influence is.

Dr. Strangelove (1964)

War is always absurd, even when there are clear reasons for disagreement. The peccadillos of military decisions become minute and asinine—both meaningless and meaningful. A million small moments in a war room somewhere could mean life or death for thousands of people.

Dr. Strangelove is a very dark comedy that underscores the absurdity of war, especially in the hands of those removed from its consequences. The entire movie snowballs into one of the most absurd finales ever filmed.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004)

This one has become a cult comedy classic for its endearing and awkward characters. An odd group of teenagers tries to navigate the world of high school and friends, all while dodging the even stranger adults in their lives. Though they struggle to fit in, their encounters are constantly juxtaposed with the likes of a traveling Tupperware salesman and a strip mall taekwondo ‘instructor’ who both clearly peaked in high school and have been chasing the nostalgic popularity ever since. Yet, somehow our heroes manage to embrace the absurdity and thrive within it.

Last Year at Marienbad (1961)

Some will argue with me here, insisting that Last Year at Marienbad is a surrealist piece of modern art, not absurdist, but hear me out. The story, which is really just a faded edge of an outline, centers around a man who sees a woman he thinks he knows. He remembers meeting her, but did he?

As he tries to convince her, the film recreates his memories in a stylistic fashion. In addition to the surrealist imagery, the movie underscores the ephemeral nature of time, of meetings, of relationships. It is absurd for the discussion to even happen between these two—it won’t change anything. It seems to remind the viewer that even if there is such a thing as objective truth, it would be meaningless to human existence. But if all of this sounds too philosophical, it’s also gorgeous to look at.

Airplane (1980)

Using the spate of 1970s disaster movies (some better than others) as a genre for parody, it points out the absurdity of blockbusters like the Airport series and Poseidon Adventure, as well as the pointlessness of trying to control fate. When you boil it down, Airplane is a room full of strangers with no useful skills trying to land a plane. And (spoiler alert) it is ultimately safely landed by an autopilot blow-up doll… not any of the well-meaning passengers on board.

It is in this bizarre microcosm that the comedy thrives. The writer/directors pack in puns, visual jokes, and pure silliness into a hilarious movie.

Originally written for DVD Netflix