Scrubbles.net

Flick Clique: June 20-26

2012-05-28T22:20:01Z

The American (2010). Meh. George Clooney as an American spy who is trying to elude a gang of Swedish interlopers in a small Italian villa. I rented this because I’ve been a long-time fan of the photography and music videos of Anton Corbijn, and was curious to see how he’d handle a feature-length film (this is his second, after 2007′s Ian Curtis biopic Control). The American doesn’t make any concessions to being a slam-jam action pic, and that’s a commendable idea, but Clooney’s character being so glum and one-dimensional makes it difficult to warm up to him or his situation. I also really couldn’t figure out why the local prostitute Clara (Violante Placido) was so attracted to him. The one positive thing I can say about this is that it has some beautiful photography, including a quietly compelling long shot of Clooney driving a car through a long tunnel under the opening credits.
The Celluloid Salesman: Classic Educational Shorts, Vol. 4 (DVD, 2011). Another campy collection of vintage industrial films from Kino and The A/V Geeks, an ephemeral films collection. I was delighted to find that this disc and another volume, Safe… Not Sorry got added to this series – unfortunately, Netflix didn’t have either for rental (Netflix is starting to suck, notice that?). Kino had a big sale recently, however, so I ended up getting the Salesman one for a good price. These 15 short films, mostly from the ’60s, attempted to sell everything from railroad cars to potato chips in films that were geared towards salespeople, classrooms, home ec groups, mens’ lodges or even a television audience (one short is even craftily disguised as a string of news segments). Many of them come across as a combo of a ’60s-style How It’s Made and the antique equivalent of an infomercial. Although their effectiveness as sales tools are decidedly hit-or-miss, you can find bits of atom-age beauty (like Hamilton Beach’s film extolling the wonders of their top-of-the-line blender) in the most lovingly crafted of these films.
The Net (1995). Sandra Bullock as a hacker in trouble! This was part of the little “early versions of the web” film fest I put on Netflix a few years back. Once you get past the clunky technology, it’s actually an effective thriller with a good performance from Bullock (the others in the cast, not so much). The Bullock character, Angela Bennett, plays a geeky computer analyst with no time for friends. The only family she has is her Alzheimers-afflicted mother (Diane Baker). When she comes across a floppy disc containing a portal into a top-secret government database, a cabal of spies comes after her, reassigning her identity as one Ruth Marx, attempting to kill her and the few people she has left (such as Dennis Miller’s psychotherapist) who could help her out. At first this was fun to watch for the dated technology (Castle Wolfenstein! After Dark’s Satori screen saver!), then I started getting into the story. It became ridiculous when Jeremy Northam’s love interest/secret killer showed up, however – Northam delivers an atrocious performance worthy of a cheesy stalker movie on the Lifetime channel. There’s also a lot of serious lapses in logic when Bullock breaks into the office where her doppelganger is working and takes back her original identity. And that’s before she runs into a computer convention and calmly plants a virus in the government database using a floppy disc and a common PC. At least Bullock makes her character’s plight believable and sympathetic.
Of Giants and Toys (1958). This was a film that I found out about through the book Japanese Cinema by my DVD Talk colleague Stuart Galbraith IV. In this wacked-out satire on commercialism and fame, a pair of office workers in a candy manufacturer’s advertising department transform a goofy young woman into the fabulous spokeswoman for their product. While Hitomi Nozoe as Kyoko enjoys her newfound fame and flirts shamelessly with her chaperone, Nishi (Hiroshi Kawaguchi). Nishi attempts to find info about his employer’s competition through his girlfriend and his ex-college buddy, who both work at rival companies. This was such an interesting film, if only to check out how the Japanese took on the space craze and other Western trends in the atomic ’50s. It also serves as a biting commentary on win-at-all-costs Japanese society at the time. Shot in widescreen color, the film is a bit unruly and all over the place. It also has enough wild, memorable scenes to recommend it – the desperation of the characters trying to maintain their dignity while working themselves sick (literally) comes through loud and clear.

One More Day …

2012-05-28T01:20:41Z

Flick Clique will be delayed until tomorrow … see you then!

Flick Clique: May 13-19

2012-05-21T01:52:57Z

Battle Royale (2000). The success of The Hunger Games has renewed interest in this controversial Japanese film with a storyline that closely parallels the adventures of Katniss and Peeta. Actually, lots of people must be interested in this – after months of sitting on top of my Netflix queue with the dreaded “Very Long Wait,” I finally decided to check with our local library (which stocks lots of foreign films) to see if they had a copy to check out. Turns out they had four copies in the stacks. Although they were all checked out at the time, I placed a hold and one of them became available within a day or two. Battle Royale takes place in a sensation-starved near-future Japan in which a class of 42 teens are randomly selected to engage in a three-day, nationally televised “battle royale” in which they are placed on a deserted island to kill each other until one survivor is crowned. The kids have a few rules to adhere to (danger zones and potentially lethal electronic collars keep them tracked and on their toes), but are generally set free to fend for themselves with backpacks containing a map and a few supplies. The film is somewhat overdone and its second half pales next to the exciting beginning, but I dug seeing how it played out among the students. Some die accidentally, some commit suicide, most are murdered by the few students who already had killer tendencies. A Japanese friend of ours recently saw Hunger Games and found it to be a convenient Battle Royale rip-off. The two films are different, but their similarities are too striking to ignore. Good performances here by Tatsuya Fujiwara (Death Note) and actor-Japanese TV host Takeshi Kitano (playing the kids’ coach/evil show orchestrator).
The Lawless (1950). Effective MacDonald Carey/Gail Russel b-melodrama of racial strife in a small California town. This was another underrated vintage Paramount production that’s getting the DVD reissue treatment from Olive Films. My complete review of the disc was just published at DVD Talk here – check it out, please and thank you!
The Lost World (1960). Last Christmas, I got Christopher a four-pack DVD set of 20th Century Fox special effects blockbusters as a gift. We watched two of them over this past week, both Irwin Allen widescreen extravaganzas from the early ’60s. His version of Arthur Conan Doyle’s iconic humans-meet-dinosaurs opus The Lost World is the more definite turkey of the two. Granted, the story had a lot of potential in being updated to the campy, colorful ’60s. Allen, however, decided to stick it on the island the entire time (no dino rampaging through present-day London, darn it) with a host of annoying, shallowly drawn characters. Most disappointing of all are the dinosaurs themselves – kimodo dragons, iguanas and baby alligators outfitted with tiny prosthetics. Boring! The stop-motion dinosaurs from the silent version were much more terrifying, and that was thirty-plus years prior to this. Most of the cast (Claude Rains, Michael Rennie, Fernando Lamas) are annoying, although special mention must be made for the character of Jennifer Holmes as played by Jill St. John, a dipsy heiress who is poised as the combo Ginger Grant/Lovey Howell among these castaways. St. John always seemed like a pretty intelligent actress and she looks stunning here, but her character was beyond ridiculous. Happily, her career has recovered from this demeaning start.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961). Flick #2 in our Irwin Allen extravaganza is this submarine opus which was later adapted into a TV series lasting a few seasons. Like The Lost World, this one also sports a ridiculous and campy story (about Earth facing extinction by burning to death, with Walter Pidgeon and his crew racing to save humanity aboard his futuristic sub, the Seaview). Unlike The Lost World, however, it’s watchable and kind of fun at times, playing a bit like a melodramatic version of Disneyland’s old-school Submarine Voyage attraction (I only wish there were scenes where they encounter mermaids and a sea serpent). There’s still a lot of unanswered burning questions, like how does Barbara Eden function as the only woman on a ship full of horny men without getting assaulted on a daily basis? And why did Robert Sterling’s captain escape death with his hand dipped into the pool containing the ravenous shark that just devoured Joan Fontaine (spoiler, sorry!)? I think you just have to turn off your brain and enjoy escapist crap like this.

Flick Clique: May 6-12

2012-05-14T01:39:03Z

We have six items on Flick Clique this week – not including the documentary (Kink Crusaders) which I’m hoping to post at DVD Talk tomorrow. I don’t really feel like going into detail on these, so I will supply a mini writeup along with the star ratings (out of five) that I gave the films.
Despicable Me (2010). **** I was surprisingly charmed by this, considering it’s a CGI animated film not from Pixar. Steve Carrell voices an evil genius who wants to shrink the moon and steal it from the sky, but three adorable orphans get in the way. OK, the “children are the answer to everything” message gets laid on too thickly, but otherwise this was an inventively done, nicely scripted and completely charming kiddie flick. This was animated by French studio Mac Guff, with made-for-3D sequences that are actually fun and not calling attention to themselves (see: How To Train Your Dragon). A lot of it reminded me of The Incredibles with more of a goth edge. Wonder what the sequel that’s due next year will be like?
Eyes in the Night (1941). *** Enjoyable little time-waster about blind detective (!) Edward Arnold, who investigates some suspicious doings in the domicile of his old friend, Ann Harding. Harding’s husband is a scientist who perfected a top-secret formula that is wanted by a cabal of spies. The baddies have wormed their way into the household staff – and the local theatrical company that Harding’s petulant stepdaughter Donna Reed is involved with. Pretty well-made, involving noir thriller from MGM – I wonder if they were trying to make this into a series a la the Thin Man films? Bar none, the best thing about this movie is Edward Arnold’s amazing seeing eye dog, Friday. That pooch does some daring jumps here of the kind not seen since the glory days of Rin Tin Tin.
I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932). ***** The original “how much crap can one guy take?” movie. This was made to bring to light the deplorable prison conditions in Georgia, and to expose the plight of the “forgotten man” (WWI vets caught up in the misery of the Great Depression). It works as both social commentary and compelling drama. Paul Muni is less hammy than usual as the fugitive in question – as a matter of fact, he should have won the Best Actor Oscar that year. I also liked Glenda Farrell as the trashy blonde who marries the reformed fugitive Muni, then tries to blackmail him. Not so funny, Glenda.
Larceny Inc. (1942). *** I first saw this Edward G. Robinson comedy about 20 years ago, didn’t remember much about it except that somehow it involved a luggage store and a young Jackie Gleason playing an overly attentive soda jerk. It’s a fun, fast-paced little romp with Robinson as an ex-con who hatches a plan with two other cons (Broderick Crawford and Edward Brophy, one of those “hey, I know that guy” actors) to buy up said failing luggage store in order to dig a tunnel into the bank vault conveniently located next door. Also starring Jane Wyman and Jack Carson, this film brims with that Warner Bros. city feel. I especially enjoyed seeing the section of the W.B. backlot which now looks totally familiar to me, used here as the streetscape where a massive subway expansion is creating havoc with Robinson’s fellow business owners. I can see why this movie didn’t retain in my memory, but I enjoyed it (again).
Oceans 11 (2001). **** Avoided this one until now because I initially thought it might be just another mainstream, Hollywood-ized and completely unnecessary remake. I was wrong. It’s actually quite fun, with a story that’s like a jacked-up, more fascinating iteration of the 1960 original. Steven Soderberg has so much flair as a director that I’m willing to overlook the many implausible moments (Brad Pitt lifts his helmet visor in a crowded casino??) and go along for the ride. The cast is generally good with the strong exception of sour-pussed Julia Roberts. Oh, and the little Chinese acrobat dude (Shaobo Qin)? So adorable.
Sneakers (1992). **** I remember adding Sneakers to my Netflix queue as part of a “90s movies featuring dated technology” spree. The film is actually quite an intelligently written and absorbing yarn with Robert Redford as the ringleader of a group of security system experts/hackers who find themselves in the possession of a top-secret decoding box. The box, which can magically break into every computerized security system, is highly sought after by both the government and Redford’s ex-college buddy Ben Kingsley – now the head of a computer firm whose nefarious m.o. is adequately conveyed via its minimalist-chic office decor. There are a few weird scenes (like the usual “blow up a tiny detail on a photo until it’s crystal clear” malarkey), but for the most part the script is impeccably researched and believable. The bright cast (including one of my faves, Mary McDonnell) seems to be having a ball with this elaborate heist caper – which dovetailed nicely from the previous film we saw, Oceans 11. Redford seems too old, but that’s okay. Sadly, if this film were produced today, the Redford character would be closer to 30 in age and the other cast members would be all be the same age as River Phoenix (who was 21 when this was made).

Flickr Friday: Empire Savings Ad, 1957

2012-05-12T01:42:04Z

As a reminder of a more benevolent age in banking, behold an ad that I scanned a few years back for Christopher’s Plastic Living website. It appears that Los Angeles-based bank Empire Savings had a peachy-keen incentive for new customers at the dawn of 1957 – a set of Lifetime plastic melamine dinnerware! The ’50s-era stuff was considered a nice deal, too, since the retail price was comparable to their ceramic cousins. The lady in the ad seems delighted by her new acquisition, despite having to fork over at least $250 for it. I’m liking the midcentury modern building rendering, too.

This was published in the January 7, 1957 “Midwinter” supplement in the Sunday Los Angeles Times.

Shazzan and Stupidstitious

2012-05-10T01:15:49Z

The ’60s Hanna Barbera cartoons have a certain hypnotic quality, don’t they? This came to mind while watching a highlight reel from Shazzan (1967). This was a show about a teen boy and girl who find magic rings that, when joined, conjure up a giant genie who takes them back to the days of the Arabian Nights. Since I picked Warner Archive‘s complete series DVD from the DVD Talk pool, I thought I’d get acquainted. Looks real trippy:

Speaking of animation on DVD… The Stupidstitious Cat (1946) is one of twenty vintage ’40s-50s Paramount cartoons included on an intriguing recent set from cartoon distributor Thunderbean called Noveltoons Original Classics. As soon as I stop feeling poor, I’m gonna get this!

Flick Clique: April 26 – May 2

2012-05-07T01:50:41Z

Exclusive Story (1936). A DVD that I picked from the screener pool at DVD Talk. I was excited to see this one because a) we rarely get Warner Archive discs in the pool and b) vintage movies are especially hard there. Exclusive Story is an efficiently produced little b-drama from MGM starring dapper Franchot Tone as a lawyer who comes to the aid of a pretty lady (the gorgeous Madge Evans) whose father’s business is being hounded by criminals running an underground numbers game. This film packs a lot of action/story into under 75 minutes in an absorbing (if overly complex) and thoroughly fun romp. When the Madge Evans character seeks help at the local newspaper, it prompts a lot of salty dialogue from the reporter who is trying to seek a scoop on the criminal (played with a hammy menace by Joseph Calleia). Although Tone contributes a lot, the main male lead is really Stuart Irwin as the reporter – it’s interesting to see him in a complex, non-comic role as a decent family man who sincerely wants to help Evans and not exploit her situation. The story mixes gangster drama and domestic theatrics, along with an exciting sequence set aboard a cruise liner set afire with passengers desperately trying to escape. Although the film on the whole is somewhat routine, I found it a brisk example of studio-craft and basically worthwhile (having never seen it on TCM, this one is completely new to me).
Mantrap (1926). The other feature film on my spiffy Treasures 5: The West 1898-1938 DVD set is this recently refurbished Clara Bow comedy in which she plays a flirty city gal who falls for an older country bumpkin. Her Alverna impulsively marries dim but earnest shopkeeper Joe (Ernest Torrance) and moves to the lakeside town of Mantrap, Canada (actually California’s Lake Arrowhead). Flapper Alverna becomes perfectly bored with country life until her prospects change when lawyer Ralph Prescott (Percy Marmont) comes to town on vacation. Smoothly directed and shot by Victor Fleming and cinematographer James Wong Howe, this lightweight fluff is mostly carried by Clara and her charms. If you ever wondered why she was called “The It Girl,” get a load of her coquettish, casually sexy performance here and wonder no longer (no surprise that Bow regarded this as the best of her star vehicles). She makes up for the routine story and the fact that other two actors are rather dull – and homely. This film contains that one famous clip of Bow where she winks and does a little “c’mere” motion with her index finger.
Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase (1939). Last of the slight yet enjoyable Warner Bros. series of b-movies starring cute ‘n perky Bonita Granville as the iconic teen detective. I believe Hidden Staircase was the only one of the four to be based on one of the books, although apparently very loosely. The story concerns a pair of spinsters, neighbors in Nancy’s little town, living in an old house who are subject to a will that stipulates one of them must stay in the house every night for 20 years to inherit it (yes, this is the stuff that b-movies run on!). People want the property to build a racetrack on, however, so the sisters are subjected to weird stuff happening in the house – including the murder of their chauffeur, a deed which implicates them in the killing. Nancy knows better, so she enlists the help of her skeptical yet game boyfriend Ted (Frankie Thomas) to investigate the mysterious old house. These are silly but film flicks, decently produced and fast paced. It’s kind of amazing, the ballsy stuff that Nancy does in these flicks – lying to the authorities, venturing into weird places alone, etc. I wonder if young girls got into trouble trying to emulate what she did in these films? The Bonita Granville Nancys are all pretty interchangeable; Hidden Staircase ranks as slightly fizzier and more enjoyable than the others.
Showgirls (1996). All-time trash classic? Although I’ve had this one in my queue for a while, we shuttled it to the top after Christopher read the autobiography of screenwriter Joe Eszterhas. Whatta trip! This “film” is every bit as lousy as I’ve heard, but it’s also strangely watchable and enjoyable in a way that many bad (boring) films never achieve. That might be due to the direction of Paul Verhoeven, who seems clued in to the script’s ridiculousness and amplifies the campy, gaudy awfulness of it all to a huge, eyeball-straining degree. Poorly cast Elizabeth Berkley plays Nomi, an ambitious if short-fused dancer who hitches her way to Vegas and eventually (after a series of hilarious mishaps) scores a job as a stripper. That oughta be enough to satisfy any burger- and tacky-nails-lovin’ gal, but instead she sets her sights on the very top – being a showgirl at a big time casino! Thanks to help from sleazy impersario Kyle MacLachlan and lesbian-leaning diva Gina Gershon, she makes it to the chorus in a show called “Goddess” – but can she unseat the show’s vain star? Unintentional hilarity ensues, but it’s also scary how everybody in this movie is either predatory, sleazy or incredibly stupid. In the dimwits’ corner is Berkely’s Nomi, who is utterly anti-sexy and untalented despite what other characters say. She’s also a bitter pill, but it must be a tribute to the woman’s talent (?) that I found myself rooting for her in the end. This despite loads of trashy sets, clothing and food (really, what is it with all the junk food?) and choreography that seemed inspired by diabetic seizures. I actually dug the insane ’90s-ness of it all, an aesthetic that really stands out with a decade or so of distance. Can’t believe I haven’t seen this until now, sorta want to watch it again.
W.E. (2011). Madonna’s artsy ode to Wallis Simpson and conspicuous consumption was pretty roundly blasted by the critics, wasn’t it? Suprisingly, I found it interesting if a strangely verging on luxurious object porn (at times, it looked like an auction catalog). W.E. criss-crosses between the real drama of Britain’s Prince Edward (James D’Arcy) falling for commoner divorcee Wallis Simpson (Andrea Riseborogh), and a modern day Manhattanite/Wallis fan (Abbie Cornish) stuck in a dreary marriage. The latter’s story has the well-heeled woman being absorbed by the goods in the 1998 auction of Simpson’s personal effects while a flirty Sotheby’s security guard (Oscar Isaac) takes a special interest in her. I found the acting/drama in this film vaguely interesting if not too absorbing. What I thought was funny were the times when Madonna seemed to be visually referencing her own music videos – like “Cherish” (Edward and Wallis frolicking in the surf) or “Oh Father” (Wallis’ string of pears getting flown off her neck in dramatic slo-mo). There’s also times when she’s basically copying the style of Sofia Coppola part and parcel. Still, I enjoyed Risenborogh’s performance as Wallis (the same can’t be said for the vacant-faced Cornish) – she emerges here as a steel-nerved, no-nonsense chick who won’t take guff from nobody. Also an opportunist and a lady who is hung up on her own celebrity – a lot like Madonna, no?

Flickr Friday: Arty The Smarty (1962)

2012-05-05T00:35:54Z

Today’s Flickr Friday is the piéce de résistance of all the vintage kiddie books that I’ve been blabbing about in the last few months. Originally published by Wonder Books in 1962, Faith McNulty’s Arty The Smarty was far and away the favorite book of mine as a child. When I recently came across my own childhood copy of this little treasure, it all came back to me as to why this particular book was so beloved. It was about a resourceful fish whose very difference from the other fishes made him special. It came as a shock, how much it resonated with me (and I have to wonder if there were any other gay/lesbian people who cherished this story as I did). Also, the snappy, clean illustrations by Albert Aquino were a revelation – exactly the style of illustration that I’m attempting to do to this day! I still don’t know much about Mr. Aquino and his career, but I really have to shake his hand for doing such great work on this book.

Some of the pages of Arty The Smarty are included below (note my name scrawled on the endpapers!), in addition to a few others I’ve placed in my Childhood Books, ’60s-’70s Flickr set.

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e-Book Covers, Anyone?

2012-05-04T23:54:56Z

Christopher just published his third e-book in as many months — Forever and Other Stories. Like the other two books he published, News on the Home Front and The Life Line, I designed and illustrated the covers. e-Book cover designing is something I’ve thrown myself into in the past few months (thanks to C). In addition to these three, there are two other book covers (not Christopher’s) that I’ve done which haven’t published yet. It’s fun, and I enjoy the challenge of doing something different every time. With Forever, I took a heap of inspiration from vintage Penguin book covers from the ’60s and ’70s. Instead of a penguin, however, I used a deer since many of C’s stories involve deer. The hand illustration was something C. and I discussed after he told me the brief on one of the stories in the collection. The silhouetted hand was his idea; while he wanted it to look like Saul Bass’ Man with the Golden Arm poster, I ended up tweaking the artwork so it wasn’t so obviously derivative of someone else’s work. I was thinking about overlaying a distressed paper texture on top, but in the end the design is more eye-catching with the solid, flat colors and no manipulation.

With my print design business hitting a lull, I’m hoping these e-book covers will get others interested in hiring me (I already got one job from a non-relative – yay!). My portfolio includes the first two covers; I will include more soon. Should anybody out there know someone who needs a book cover design, please don’t hesitate to contact me at designer (!at!) scrubbles.net.

Here’s another incentive to read Forever — On his weblog, Christopher has a deal where you can download the e-book for free. Take a look, and dig that fabulous cover design!

LitKids Giveaway – Last Day!

2012-04-30T23:48:23Z

Our friend Cindy has a swell LitKids DVD giveaway in April that ends today. Simply like my Etsy shop, like LitKids on Facebook, or follow me on Twitter or Pinterest to enter. The prize is the 3-disc Craft In America DVD set which I reviewed at DVD Talk last March.

Flick Clique: April 22-28

2012-04-30T16:55:26Z

The Docks Of New York (1929). The last film we saw from the Criterion Collection’s Three Silent Classics by Josef Von Sterberg set. This one has the formidable star of Underworld, George Bancroft, as a steamship worker who is on shore leave when he sees a sad, attractive blonde (Betty Compson) throwing herself off the dock, a suicide attempt. He’s captivated by the woman, who hangs out suspiciously at the local dive with her unhappily married friend (Olga Baclanova of Freaks). As Bancroft and the cynical Compson strike up a relationship, they impulsively decide to marry. The lure of the sea is too great for Bancroft, however, and Compson harbors a secret that may destroy their brief union. Athough the simple story in this one isn’t quite as compelling as Underworld or The Last Command, the film is still a great example of silent filmmaking at its zenith. I loved the photography; Compson is given some beatific close-ups that are comparable to the lovingly crafted shots Von Sternberg would later do with Marlene Dietrich. There’s also a lot of subtle dynamics going on between Bancroft and Compson and the other characters. They really did speak volumes in gestures and glances to make up for the absence of dialogue – then sound had to come along and ruin it (temporarily, at least).
Hit! (1973). Overlooked, gritty drama from many of the same people who worked on Lady Sings the Blues. This one has Billy Dee Williams as a crusading DEA agent who takes things to the next level when his daughter dies from taking a bad hit of heroin. Hit! was a recent disc that I picked to write on from the DVD Talk screener pool; my review was just published here.
The Kids Are All Right (2010). Another film that was on my Netflix queue forever before it arrived here at Chez Scrubbles this week. This is the one with Julianne Moore and Annette Bening as a pair of long-together lesbian moms whose cushy world is upturned when their kids decide to contact the man who donated his sperm to the couple. Even though the dialogue was a little too stagy and the film was hobbled by a California-liberal sensibility that was hard to relate to, I enjoyed it a lot. Mostly for the outstanding performances of Moore and Bening, although Mark Ruffalo (as the long-absent dad) and Mia Wasikowska and Josh Hutcherson (as the kids) contributed good work as well. This is one of the few films I’ve seen where the main characters’ gayness is just taken as a fact of life, and that was refreshing to see. Not so refreshing was the way the story panned out with the Moore character (minor spoiler) having an affair with Ruffalo. Not to matter, however – the film has a lot of fresh and funny dialogue and it kept me absorbed all the way through the (sappy) ending.
The Second Woman (1950). Intriguing little psychological drama, borrowing heavily from films like Rebecca but entertaining all the same. The story concerns Betsy Drake as Ellen Foster, a mousy but intelligent woman who is visiting her aunt (Florence Bates) in a coastal California town that looks a lot like Monterey. Ellen is captivated by local architect Jeff Cohalan (Robert Young), a withdrawn man whose fiancee died under mysterious circumstances in an auto accident. Ellen befriends Jeff and becomes the first woman invited into his luxe modern home perched on a rocky outpost since the tragedy. As she gets closer to him and prompts the locals’ tongues wagging, strange things start happening that indicate he was responsible for his fiancee’s death. Can he be reformed, or is he not as dangerous as people think? This was an interesting little flick from my Mystery Classics DVD set (Christopher picked it – good choice, C!). I enjoyed the warm performances of Drake (an offbeat casting choice) and Young, who didn’t get these kind of multi-layered roles too often. Most fascinating was the modern design of Young’s home. Midcentury modern furnishings were surprisingly not used very often in classic films. Whenever they were employed, it was used with characters who were shady or (in this case) impenetrable. Although the film is sometimes derivative, The Second Woman is worth seeking out.

Jingle All The Way

2012-04-25T23:05:10Z

When I was a wee tyke, I loved TV commercial jingles (still love them, don’t kill me). This fact came to mind recently when I was listening to a internet radio station for vintage music and Eddie Cantor singing “Charley My Boy” came on. Although the song was originally recorded in the 1920s, Phoenix residents may recall that it was constantly used as the jingle for a series of cheeseball ads from local tire merchant Charlie Case in the ’70s. The ads I recall employed a male barbershop quartet, but the one below has a lady quartet introducing Charlie. Dig those lush production values, one small step higher than a Tex & Edna Boil SCTV skit:

Watching TV commercials must have warped my brain. Entire conversations I’ve had are lost to me, but I could easily sing all of the local car lot jingles from ’70s-’80s Phoenix. That includes Bell Ford, which if I’m not mistaken is still in use to this day:

Speaking of jingles, the one used at the end of Sun Valley Waterbed was nearly forgotten by me, especially considering that their ads with the perky “Carolyn” were on locally all the time. Blonde Carolyn looked a lot like local newscaster Mary Jo West, so in the back of my kiddie mind I imagined that the two were friends. Whether that was true or not is open to speculation, but I did just learn that Carolyn was once the keyboard player in The Brooklyn Bridge (“The Worst That Could Happen”). I guess tickling the ivories didn’t bring in the same cash that waterbeds later did. All three of these ads come from YouTube user DaddySinister.

Flick Clique: April 15-21

2012-04-23T01:35:05Z

Has Anybody Seen My Gal? (1952). This week, we saw three fluffy comedies. The colorful Rock Hudson musical Has Anybody Seen My Gal? was the most enjoyable of them, by a hair-thin margin. This nostalgic piece of corn has Charles Coburn as a dying self-made millionaire who bequeaths his estate to the descendants of the woman who spurned him several decades earlier, prompting him to acquire his fortune. Before that can happen, however, Coburn disguises himself as a humble painter and rooms with the family who will benefit from the smaller but still substantial check he anonymously sends them – to see how the money changes their lives. The household includes the now-deceased woman’s son (Larry Gates), his stuck-up wife (Lynn Bari), their hunky co-ed son (William Reynolds), precocious younger daughter (Gigi Perreau), and worldly older daughter (Piper Laurie). The Piper Laurie character is dating the earnest soda jerk (Hudson) at the drug store her father runs, a relationship that runs afoul once the family becomes part of the town’s jet-set. Pure hokum with awkwardly placed musical sequences and an odd sense of 1920s small-town life, but I was entertained by it all the same. Douglas Sirk directed this one – although it lacks the caustic commentary of his later melodramas, he does a good job keeping things light and lively. I also dug the little bit with James Dean as a soda fountain customer!
Peck’s Bad Boy with the Circus (1938). Fluffy yuk-yuk #2 was this kiddie circus flick from my Comedy Kings: 50 Movie Pack DVD set. Bill Peck was a literary boy-scamp, similar to Tom Sawyer, who was popular early in the 20th century. The character was played by young actors Jackie Coogan and Jackie Cooper; At the Circus was a revival with freckled Tommy Kelly in the role. In this film, Bill Peck gets involved in a traveling circus where jealousy involving a lady lion tamer (Benita Hume) causes the popular young bareback rider (Ann Gillis) to lose the top spot in the ring. In scheming to get her back in the troupe, Peck winds up taking the girl’s place. All this is happening while Peck furiously gets back to the nearby boys’ camp to win the relay race trophy! Silly nonsense, but I actually enjoyed watching it. The capable supporting cast includes Edgar Kennedy (slow-burning policeman in all those Hal Roach comedy shorts), William Demarest, and one of my fave movie maids, Louise Beavers.
The Rage of Paris (1938). Fluffy yuk-yuk #3 also came from the Comedy Kings, and with it I am finished with all of the 1930s films on that set (thus far, I’ve seen probably two-thirds of its fifty features). The breezy Rage of Paris attempted to do for French actress Danielle Darrieux what Three Smart Girls did for Deanna Durbin. Both are glossy, lightweight Universal productions, although this particular film isn’t nearly as memorable. The story concerns Darrieux’s Nicole, a poor but pretty young French girl struggling in New York. One of her neighbors, played by a wonderful Helen Broderick, sees an opportunity to mold Nicole into a fetching beauty who could nab a rich husband. She and budding restauranteur Mischa Auer decide to invest in the girl, and sure enough she attracts the attention of millionaire Louis Hayward. Their plan may fall apart, however, since Hayward’s best friend, wealthy businessman Douglas Fairbanks Jr., knows that Darrieux isn’t the Parisian socialite she’s pretending to be. Kind of a fun frolic, highlighted with Darrieux’s scene where she performs a coin trick. I enjoyed her (despite a performance that verges onto the cutesy), and she has a nice interplay with Broderick and Auer. Hayward is merely okay, however, and I always thought the debonair Fairbanks seemed too refined to be a truly believable leading man (okay, he seems a bit gay to me). It’s interesting to see Darrieux, a lady who is still active in films, in an American production.
Shockproof (1949). Overlooked film noir, directed by Douglas Sirk (again), takes place in several actual Los Angeles locales during its best period (yes, there’s a reason why an entire videogame has been made around it). This sordid tale follows a cynical woman named Jenny (Patricia Knight), recently released from prison for killing a man in defense of her shady boyfriend Harry (John Baragey). Her parole officer, Griff (Cornel Wilde), arranges a job and room and board for her, but circumstances prompt her to wind up living in Griff’s home with his blind mother and prissy little brother. In his efforts to keep Jenny away from Harry and his bad influence, Griff and the lady con form a bond and end up falling for each other. When Harry finds out about the affair, his jealousy gets him on the wrong side of a fatal bullet. Intriguing, well-crafted film that turns somewhat ludicrous when the lovers take it on the lam. Loved the location shooting (of course), and the previously-unknown-to-me Knight makes for an alluring femme fatale. She and Wilde were married at the time, which might account for Wilde being more layered and not nearly as bland as he usually is. The other characters were somewhat cut-and-dried, but it’s a fun film. Douglas Sirk was quite a versatile director, doing this and the escapist Has Anybody Seen My Gal? within the span of a few short years.
Smash His Camera (2009). Absorbing, lively, not entirely convincing documentary on celeb photographer Ron Galella and his notorious run-ins with Jacqueline Onassis and the like in the ’70s. I vaguely remember hearing about the Jackie case in the ’80s (when she re-sued him!), so it was interesting to see how this film treated those events through the eye of the older, mellower but still feisty Galella. The film also delves into the current life of the photographer as he gamely tramps out to celeb speaking engagements and premieres, observing how the scene has changed since the man’s ’70s peak. I can’t help but compare this with Bill Cunningham New York. That film was much more inspiring and watchable than this one, but both have their charms driven from the colorfulness of their main subjects. Although a pleasant fellow, Galella mostly comes across in the film as a classless hack with an inflated sense of self-worth. He also apparently had a dangerous, stalker-like attachment to Onassis. The re-hashing of the celebrated trial he had against Jackie O. made the actual circumstances of their conflict seem quite tame, actually.

Flickr Friday: UPA Cartoon Art

2012-05-04T23:55:34Z

Recently I had the privilege of reviewing the 3-disc UPA Jolly Frolics DVD set put out by Turner Classic Movies over at DVDTalk. Although the copy I reviewed was pre-release screeners and not the final retail set, I could definitely tell the set was put together with a lot of TLC. The cartoons, dating from 1948-59, all look fantastically restored. I included some screen shots with the DVD Talk review, including this gem from the 1955 cartoon The Jaywalker. This image says “UPA Style” better than most anything:

As much as UPA is identified with a modernist look, they also did several more traditional-type cartoons. The background below is stitched together from a Disney-esque 1950 effort called The Popcorn Story (it makes sense, since the film was co-directed by Disney vet Art Babbitt). I love the colors!

This is a wonderful set that I would recommend to vintage cartoon fans as well as those who appreciated 1950s modern design. Buy it at TCM here or at Amazon.com here.

Like Sly Stallone’s Cobra Pad, Only Cooler

2012-04-19T01:38:48Z

We’ve been watching Los Angeles Plays Itself, Thom Andersen’s 2003 video essay on that metropolis and how the city’s image has been reflected on films shot on location there. Because it uses dozens of clips from movies ranging from Double Indemnity to Night of the Comet, the documentary has never gotten a home video release (and never will, apparently). It’s on YouTube, however, in 12 parts. Despite Andersen’s sometimes pretentious script and dry narration, it’s very fascinating. Here’s an excerpt:

Flick Clique: April 8-14

2012-04-16T01:43:46Z

I’m No Angel (1933). Having some extra time to myself this week, I decided to check out some older unwatched DVDs in my (modest) collection. I’m No Angel was part of the Mae West Glamour Collection, and it is truly a star vehicle for the curvy, bawdy actress. It really strikes me just how different and weird West was, and this is no exception. In a story written by West herself, Mae plays a hootchie-cootchie dancer turned famous circus lion tamer named Tira. As she works her way up the showbiz ladder (innocently enough) she befriends many men including a horny Texan (William B. Davidson), a New York dandy (Kent Taylor), and the latter’s handsome lawyer cousin (Cary Grant). A scandal involving Taylor and Grant embroils her in a court case, but Mae being Mae she ultimately prevails with all her jewels and gowns intact. This was actually quite a funny, jazzy film with a few odd, spicy songs sung by Mae. It’s interesting to watch how she interacts with her maid and servants in this picture. While the role of Tira’s maid Libby is stereotypical as usual, the role is played in a nice, empathic way by actress Libby Taylor. There seems to be an understanding between Tira and Libby (and the other servants she eventually employs) that women need to do whatever they can to get by, preferably with a lot of sass and humor. Fascinating stuff.
The Last Command (1929). Last week’s Flick Clique included Underworld from the recent Criterion/Josef Von Sternberg silent set; this week we turned our attention to The Last Command. Although this film also stars the enigmatic Evelyn Brent, it’s best known for being one of the performances that got burly Emil Jannings awarded the first Best Actor Academy Award. I’d say Jannings deserved it – he does a nuanced, outstanding job here as a Russian general whose twisted past leads him from his motherland to Hollywood and bit parts as a hollowed-out old man. The film is slickly made and beautifully photographed in that rich way that silents achieved just before sound came in and messed things up for a while. Co-starring a young William Powell as Jannings’ adversary, Last Command benefits from several memorable set pieces, including a train wreck effectively done with detailed model work.
Nothing Sacred (1937). The other vintage comedy I watched with some extra time on my hands. The pleasant yet unexceptional Nothing Sacred follows Carole Lombard’s Hazel Flagg, a simpering small town girl who is diagnosed with a terminal disease. A second visit with her doctor (Charles Winninger) reveals that it was a false alarm. Before she can reveal the truth, however, scooping reporter Fredric March sells her on a gala tour of New York which exploits her sob-sister appeal on the city’s masses to the approval of March’s editor (Walter Connolly). Cute film, somewhat too brisk and short. As in My Man Godfrey, Lombard’s character got on my nerves but she somehow pulls it off in the end. I was going to have an embedded video here of the picture’s sweet opening credits sequence, but you can actually watch the entire film (including the opening!) on YouTube in a nice-looking print.
Salomy Jane (1914). Confusing but moderately interesting early silent is the only still-extant film from the California Motion Picture Corporation, a unique company that operated out of the state’s northern region, making ample use of the redwood forests for its production. Salomy‘s unengaging story concerns a 19th century girl (Beatriz Michelena, the first Latina film star) who rebuffs the advances of an unsavory young man. Instead, she falls for another man (the interestingly monikered House Peters) who comes to her rescue and ends up being wrongly accused in the other sap’s killing. Quaintly filmed and filled with mannered performances, this film definitely feels 88 minutes long (epic-length in 1914 terms). The scenery held our attentions, a little. This was part of a great 3-DVD set, Treasures 5: The West 1898-1938, a collection of lost/ephemeral films that explore the American West with copious notes and documentation/background info. Although Salomy might make one believe it’s full of Westerns, it’s actually a treasure trove of mostly silent documentaries, home movies, newsreels and other fun stuff. This was my “I paid way to much on taxes, but fuck it I’m getting it anyway” gift to myself.
Where Love Has Gone (1965). Trashy, expensively produced soap opera with Susan Hayward as a San Francisco sculptress who is embroiled in scandal when her sulky daughter (Joey Heatherton, terrible) is accused of killing Hayward’s boyfriend. The girl’s architect father, Mike Connors, is brought in to intervene, leading to an extended flashback to when Hayward and Connors first met and their constant disagreements with Hayward’s imperious dowager mom, Bette Davis. This has all the ingredients for a campy, fun ride, but something intangible is missing here. Perhaps it’s the script, which is full of cringeworthy dialogue that never quite reaches the amusing levels of hysteria in something similar like Portrait in Black. Unlike Lana Turner and Sandra Dee in that flick, Hayward and Heatherton have a strange lack of chemistry which drags the film down. There was also not a lot of believability in the Hayward/Davis relationship, either. Hayward herself was enjoyable enough in this watchable yet curiously unmoving soap.

Flickr Saturday: Batiste Madalena Cinema Posters

2012-05-04T23:57:06Z

On our Flickr ~~Friday~~ Saturday, we have some images that I scanned from a fascinating article in the December 1983 issue of American Heritage magazine. These beautiful film posters from the ’20s were painted by Batiste Madalena (1902-1988) for George Eastman’s movie palace in Rochester, New York. Madalena was employed as the house artist at this theater until it changed ownership in 1928. Shortly thereafter while riding his bike through town, he happened to come across all his handiwork stacked in a heap of trash behind the theater! He managed to save 225 of these beauties, which have since been displayed in New York’s Museum of Modern Art and elsewhere.

Some of the posters reproduced in the American Heritage article are included below; check out the full set in my Batiste Madalena flickr set.

Doing Time at the Piggly Wiggly

2012-04-12T01:26:34Z

I was going to write about the first ten songs that came up when my iTunes shuffled, but instead let’s take a look at this mesmerizing short that envisions 1960s Judy Garland and Liza Minnelli shopping for groceries. And look, there’s 1970s Ann Miller working the check-out register! It’s clever how they matched the lip movements with the new words. Gay as all get out – and funny, too.

Flick Clique: April 1-7

2012-04-09T01:43:19Z

The Hunger Games (2012). This was our special movie-day movie from last Wednesday. We’ve never read the books, but the dystopian-future/kids-in-peril concept sounded intriguing enough so we decided to check it out. Although the film has a few flaws, we generally enjoyed it. In case you live under a rock, the story is set in a near-future time where society is split into wealthy cities surrounded by poor communities. The city has a yearly televised competition/reality show in which a boy and girl from each of the twelve local districts between the ages of 12 and 18 (Why? It’s not really explained.) are randomly picked and plopped into a wooded area to survive, fight, kill and rely on their wits until one victor is crowned. Jennifer Lawrence as protagonist Katniss was really good, striking a good balance between inner strength and girly vulnerability/youth (I thought she was even better here than in Winter’s Bone). The story kept my interest, even though it was filled with shallowly drawn characters like Katniss’ boyfriend (Liam Hemsworth) and the smarmy TV host (Stanley Tucci). Things I didn’t like so much were the costumes (everybody looks like Lady Gaga in this world?) and the shaky camera, which was probably used to soften up the violence so the film would get a P-13 rating and safely get all those tweens in the theaters. The game itself suffered from too much outside manipulation by the TV producers. This film also contains one of those terribly cliché scenes where the killer is this close to offing the main character, but then she has to offer up the reasons why the other person deserves to die – we all know how those scenes end up, right? Other than all that stuff, we really enjoyed The Hunger Games.
1911 (2011). Mammoth, hard-to-follow Chinese historical epic stars Jackie Chan as an officer in the Nationalist forces which overthrew the Qing Dynasty in the eventful year of 1911. It’s basically the same story that was partially told in The Last Emperor, only more heavily weighed towards the non-royalty side. The film supplements the narrative with subtitles introducing every character and copious liner notes, giving it a stuffy and impenetrable air. Although Chinese actor Winston Chao has a good gravitas as the Nationalist leader Sun Yat-Sen, he struggles through several English language scenes with laughable dialogue that is phonetically (and weirdly) spoken by the actor. Chan is decent, although too old for his role – and he does an inappropriate scene where he rocks the kung-fu moves. Battle scenes, negotiations, history of suspicious accuracy… what a strange, overproduced film.
Underworld (1927). This early film from Marlene Dietrich svengali Josef Von Sternberg has more interest as a historic curio than anything else, being one of the first contemporary gangster films. Fiery George Bancroft plays a bruiser named Bull, who with his moll Feathers (Evelyn Brent) helps rehabilitate vagrant Rolls Royce (Clive Brook) to be part of his gang of racketeers – headquartered in a flower shop! Rolls Royce and Feathers end up falling for each other, which complicates matters when Bull is sent to the slammer and needs help breaking out. The story is pretty typical, but the film is fast-paced and beautifully photographed. I loved watching this one just for Evelyn Brent’s wild outfits, all of which involve feathers (of course). We have a framed photo of Miss Brent in our living room, by the way – which is perfect, since our home was built in the same year this compelling silent was originally released.

Flickr Friday: You Look Ridiculous

2012-04-07T01:28:11Z

I came across another great kiddie book from the ’60s when looking through my mom’s collection. You Look Ridiculous Said the Rhinoceros to the Hippopotamus (1966) was written and illustrated by Bernard Waber. Best known for Lyle the Crocodile, Waber has dozens of books to his credit (and he’s still going in his 80s). This book has lots of wonderful, expressionistic drawings of the title characters. I dig the orange, green and gray color scheme and the endpapers seen at this post’s bottom.

Although this book wasn’t part of our family’s library when we were kids, I was immediately taken by the artwork and snatched it for myself (my nephews will just have to live with one less book to look at!). These scans are part of my Childhood Books, ’60s-’70s Flickr set.