Hallelujah (1929-30)

 

Hallelujah is tough to watch with a modern sensibility because it does occasionally traffic in some pretty offensive stereotypes of African Americans. Historically, it is significant as the first all-black, all-sound musical film, released early in the sound era, and it was named in 2008 to the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress for being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.” I’m sure its defenders (if there are any?) would claim that it depicts the standard representations of African Americans of the time, but given what we know of the racist tendencies of the entertainment industry, that doesn’t make it easier to view. You cannot just dismiss what was offensive even at the time of its creation; the film even features a character named Mammy, and that term certainly had pejorative implications even in 1929. The plot concerns Zeke, a poor cotton farmer who gambles away the money that his family has earned on their yearly crop. He’s fallen under the influence of a “loose woman” named Chick who is working with her boyfriend, a hustler called Hot Shot. After they cheat Zeke out of his money, he tries to get it back and one of his brothers is accidentally killed in the fight. Zeke becomes a preacher, renames himself Zekiel, and tries to convert Chick to Christianity. The sequence where Zeke baptizes multiple people, including Chick, is really quite beautifully shot. However, he really cannot resist Chick and she cannot resist her former lover. Soon after he leaves his religion to be with her, she renews her relationship with Hot Shot. As Zeke, actor Daniel L. Haynes exhibits a fine baritone voice. The real star of the movie, though, is Nina Mae McKinney as Chick. She is a supremely talented actress, a great singer, and a fantastic dancer. It’s a shame that she didn’t have a bigger, more successful career. Much of the acting is somewhat amateurish, but the dialogue doesn’t really help the actors. What does impress a viewer is the integration of music into the film’s narrative. Hallelujah features lots of singing and music, much of it diegetic. The music is an interesting mix of religious and secular music, and it certainly contributes to the overall impact of the film. Here’s an interesting bit of awards trivia: the film’s director, King Vidor, was one of two directors being nominated for the second time in Academy Award history; the other was eventual winner Lewis Milestone (for All Quiet on the Western Front), who had won for his direction of the comedy film Two Arabian Knights in the Oscars’ first year.

Oscar Nomination: Best Director (King Vidor)

Inherit the Wind (1960)

 

Inherit the Wind fictionalizes the famed “Scopes Monkey Trial” of 1925, but it manages to follow some of the broader outlines of what actually happened. A schoolteacher, played by Dick York (before he became the first Darren on Bewitched), plays the Scopes figure, Bertram Cates, who dares to broach the subject of Darwin’s theory of evolution to his students and is subsequently arrested. Instead of famed attorneys Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan, the movie features Spencer Tracy’s Henry Drummond and Fredric March’s Matthew Harrison Brady. Providing some acidic cynicism is Gene Kelly as E.K. Hornbeck, standing in here for noted journalist H.L. Mencken. The film is adapted from the 1955 play of the same name, and both the playwrights and screenwriters have done really very little to disguise the connections between the fictional and historical counterparts. The trial is even referred to as the “Hillsboro Monkey Trial.” An interesting addition to the historical account is the romance between Cates and a fellow schoolteacher, Rachel Brown (a solid Donna Anderson), the daughter of the town’s preacher, Rev. Jeremiah Brown (Claude Akins, surprising in his fire-and-brimstone glory). Most of the more interesting events in the film take place in a very hot courtroom; that setting doesn’t help the movie escape its stage-bound origins. Tracy’s Drummond and March’s Brady fight each other and try to outshine each other in the courtroom. March has the flashier role, and Brady has the full support of almost everyone in the small town of Hillsboro. They even give him a huge parade and rally when he arrives in town. However, not everyone, it turns out, is against Cates, and some of them even realize how much of an embarrassment to the town this trial and all its publicity truly is. March can, by turns, be bullying, aggressive, and boastful in the courtroom; Brady is always performing for the crowd, it seems. March is too prone to mannerisms and tics that can be distracting, especially the way he moves his mouth at times, and his character emerges as a tragic, almost pathetic figure by the film’s end. By comparison, Tracy’s performance is much more low key. He’s in his funny, sarcastic mode here, and he finds humor even when he’s frustrated because it’s clear he’s going to be on the losing side from the beginning of the trial. The two lawyers have been friends for a long time and have faced each other in court many times, apparently, but their relationship has changed over time as each has taken a different path in life. Caught in the middle is Brady’s wife Sarah, nicely played by Florence Eldridge, March’s real-life spouse. Eldridge’s Sarah gets one good scene defending her husband and his life and work, and many other supporting cast members have opportunities to shine, including Harry Morgan as the judge and Kelly playing very much against type. The film doesn’t really care much for York’s defendant, honestly, and by the time Drummond calls Brady to the stand to testify as an expert witness on the Bible and its teachings, you know this is not really an examination of the impact of evolution. To be fair, Inherit the Wind is not truly meant as a history lesson even though too many people tend to take such movies as being completely factual. This film version is a fictional account, after all, and it isn’t even really about the supposed conflict between the theory of evolution and Christian belief systems or perhaps between education and faith on a much broader scale. Instead, it seems to warn against narrow-mindedness and the persecution of those who hold different ideas. It’s a pretty stern, clear warning about the dangers of fanaticism and groupthink. (The town is, for the most part, a Greek chorus of ignorance.) Sadly, we seem to be as much in need of this lesson today as they were when the play was written in the 1950s or when the film was released in the 1960s.

Oscar Nominations: Best Actor in a Leading Role (Spencer Tracy), Best Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium, Best Black-and-White Cinematography, and Best Film Editing

The Private Life of Helen of Troy (1927-28)

 

Only about thirty minutes of The Private Life of Helen of Troy exist in the British Film Institute archive, perhaps just one third of its total running time. Adapted from a novel by John Erskine, the film version takes on the famed mythological figures of the Trojan War. IMDB details the plot: “Queen Helen of Troy, in response to her husband Menelaus’ lack of interest in her, elopes with Paris to Sparta. Menelaus, egged on by his henchman, starts a war with Paris, finally effecting the return of Helen. The time-honored custom demands that he have the pleasure of killing her, but her seductive loveliness restrains him.” It seems like the film covers much of what we already know from Homer’s and Virgil’s accounts. The cast includes Maria Corda as Helen of Troy, Lewis Stone as Menelaus, and Ricardo Cortez as Paris. The category for which it was nominated, Best Title Writing, existed only for the first year of the Academy Awards. Sound films were so ubiquitous by the second ceremony that the category was deemed no longer necessary. Title writing is a lost art, of course, but giving viewers a sufficient amount of interesting and useful information on a film’s intertitles made a huge difference. The recipient of the nomination, Gerald Duffy, was the first person to be nominated posthumously for an Oscar. He had died almost eleven months before the first ceremony.

Oscar Nomination: Best Title Writing

The Dove (1927-28)

  

It might be best to describe The Dove as a partially lost film. Four of the film’s nine reels are in the Library of Congress, and they are not even consecutive reels. The film is based upon a play by Willard Mack and stars Norma Talmadge, Noah Beery, and Gilbert Roland, all of them major performers of the silent film era. IMDB summarizes the plot very tersely: “A despot falls for a dancing girl. After she rejects him, he has her other beau framed for murder.” So many of the plots of these lost films sound like they are very melodramatic, don’t they? It was one of the fashions of the times, I suppose. William Cameron Menzies won the first Oscar for Best Interior Decoration, later known as Art Direction and now known as Production Design, for The Dove and for Tempest. He would be nominated again in the same category the following year and would later receive a special Oscar for his use of color in Gone with the Wind.

Oscar Win: Best Interior Decoration

The Magic Flame (1927-28)

Two of the three films for which George Barnes was nominated for Best Cinematography in the first year of the Academy Awards are considered lost. In addition to The Magic Flame, he was also nominated for The Devil Dancer (also a lost film) and Sadie Thompson (most of which still survives). IMDB describes the plot of The Magic Flame in terms that are vague but quite intriguing: “A love triangle involving two members of a travelling circus and an aristocrat has serious consequences for all three individuals.” The three points of that love triangle are played by some big names in early films: Ronald Colman and Vilma Banky. Colman plays both Tito the Clown and the Count, both of whom are in love with Banky’s trapeze artist Bianca. Colman would later win an Oscar for A Double Life and have a long successful career after the transition to sound films. Banky had costarred with Colman in several films and twice with Rudolph Valentino, but she did not make the transition to talkies. Only eight of her twenty-four films are believed to have survived, and another three may exist in fragments, including The Magic Flame. However, it may actually be completely lost at this point. A few reels of the film may survive at either the Museum of Modern Art or the International Museum of Photography and Film at the George Eastman House, but there’s no evidence of a complete version. In fact, there’s even a dispute over whether several reels are available at the George Eastman House. Given the status of many films from this era, it’s quite likely that The Magic Flame is another lost silent film.

Oscar Nomination: Best Cinematography 

Sorrell and Son (1927-28)

 

An almost complete copy of Sorrell and Son and a trailer for the film are now preserved in the Academy Film Archive. However, unless the Academy makes the film more readily accessible, it will remain another rarely seen film from the first year of the awards. The plot, according to IMDB, is based upon the novel of the same name by Warwick Deeping: “Stephen Sorrell, a decorated war hero, raises his son Kit alone after Kit’s mother deserts husband and child in the boy’s infancy. Sorrell loses a promising job offer and is forced to take work as a menial. Both his dignity and his health are damaged as he suffers under the exhausting labor and harsh treatment he receives as a hotel porter. But Sorrell thrives in the knowledge that his son will benefit from his labors. Sorrell has allowed the boy to believe his mother dead, but when the mother shows up, wanting to re-enter the young man’s life, Sorrell must make hard decisions.” That sounds like quite the soap opera. The cast is impressive: H.B. Warner plays Stephen Sorrell, Anna Q. Nilsson plays Dora Sorrell, and Kit is played by Mickey McBan as a child and Nils Asther as an adult. The film’s sole nomination is for a category that existed only during the first year of the awards, Best Directing of a Dramatic Picture. After the first year, there would only be one category for directing, and the Academy would no longer acknowledge that filming different genres can take different sets of skills.

Oscar Nomination: Best Directing of a Dramatic Picture (Herbert Brenon)

The Devil Dancer (1927-28)

 

The Devil Dancer is presumed to be a lost film, one of many from the silent era that we are no longer able to enjoy. According to IMBD, the film’s plot goes as follows: “An English explorer disturbed by the practices of an isolated tribe attempts to rescue a native girl he has become fascinated with.” It sounds like some rather colonial attitudes being represented here, but the film was recognized by the Oscars for its cinematography, not its writing. In fact, its photographer, George Barnes, accounted for 75 percent of the films nominated that first year for Best Cinematography: The Devil Dancer, Sadie Thompson, and Tempest. Barnes would receive a total of eight Academy Award nominations in his career, winning for 1940’s Rebecca. Of course, he lost in the first year of the Oscars to the cinematographers of Sunrise, certainly one of the most beautifully filmed silent movies. The Devil Dancer stars Gilda Gray as the title character (also known as Takla), Clive Brook as Stephen Athelstan, and Anna May Wong as Sada. There’s also a character known as “The White Woman,” played by Barbara Tennant, so that doesn’t bode well for the likelihood of a non-colonial attitude toward the non-white characters (or to women either if they’re only known by one trait or characteristic). Gray apparently was best known for popularizing the dance known as the “shimmy.” Brook would later co-star with Marlene Dietrich and Wong again in Shanghai Express; he also played Sherlock Holmes three times after making a successful transition from silents to talkies. Wong was the first Chinese American movie star and was always underused (or misused) and underappreciated in Hollywood. It would be fascinating to see what Wong (and the rest of the cast) did with what sounds like a less-than-promising premise.

Oscar Nomination: Best Cinematography

Cliffhanger (1993)

 

Cliffhanger was nominated for three technical Oscars (Sound, Sound Effects Editing, and Visual Effects) but lost all three of them to the juggernaut that was/is Jurassic Park. The stunt work in Cliffhanger is spectacular, top-notch, but it’s tough to compete with those amazingly realistic-looking dinosaurs. The plot involves the search for $100 million in uncirculated U.S. currency that was stolen from a Treasury Department plane. Sylvester Stallone plays Gabe Walker and Janine Turner (still best known for TV’s Northern Exposure) plays Jessie Dieghan, two rangers who rescue people trapped in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. Gabe has taken eight months away from the job after letting a friend, Sarah, slip from his hand during an attempted rescue; the friend’s boyfriend, Hal Tucker (Michael Rooker, who will always be Daryl’s older brother on The Walking Dead to me), blames Gabe, and Gabe has carried the weight of Sarah’s death to the point of wanting to quit his job. Jessie convinces Gabe to join Hal in responding to a distress signal, not realizing that John Lithgow’s Eric Qualen and his band of international thieves want them to find the three cases of money now lost in the mountains after a failed theft attempt and after their own plane has crashed, leaving them stranded with just a honing device to help them find the missing cases. Qualen, working with turncoat U.S. Treasury agent Richard Travers (Rex Linn), and his cohort are very sadistic and easily angered. They always seem ready to kill someone for no significant reason; they even kill Ralph Waite’s Frank, a helicopter pilot who has merely tried to rescue them, and one of a pair of young guys who are just out to ski and jump and have some fun in the mountains. Stallone’s Gabe systematically sabotages the efforts by Qualen’s group to retrieve the money. He makes certain that something goes wrong with each case, and it’s fun to watch so much money get blown up or set on fire or tossed into a helicopter’s blades and shredded. The villains are universally evil and heartless, only interested in getting their money, not matter the human cost that it takes. They’re almost cartoonish in their brutality, but that violence is graphically depicted onscreen. It’s an adventure movie, really, with the money only serving as the maguffin for the plot. It’s the stunt performers who get the most attention. Aside from the scenes of people scaling numerous mountains, Cliffhanger also showcases a transfer of people and the cases of money from one plane to another in midair – well, I should say the attempted transfer of the money since that’s what sets the main portion of the plot in motion. It’s possible that you’ll be able to predict the outcome of the movie by the time you’ve watched the first half (or even third), but that doesn’t detract from the overall impact of the visual effects.

Oscar Nominations: Best Sound, Best Sound Effects Editing, and Best Visual Effects

BUtterfield 8

 

Butterfield 8 would probably not warrant much of our attention these days if it weren’t for the performance of Elizabeth Taylor, who won the Oscar for Best Actress, as Gloria Wandrous, a woman who likes to have fun in the company of men. It’s not a particularly good film, and the dialogue is especially cringe-inducing. For example, one character tells Laurence Harvey’s character about Gloria, “Oh, she’s…she’s frantic! Isn’t she like a rocket off the Earth? Who should know better than yours truly? Ooohh, mother, help me! I’d have left home for that. Nah… she’s got a traveling itch; she’s like a flea. Hop, hop, hop from one dog to another. She bites you, and she’s gone. She picks you up, and she drops you.” Such misogynistic talk permeates the film, and the attitude that it represents accounts, perhaps, for how the film’s plot punishes Gloria but not Liggett (Harvey), the married man who treats both his wife and his mistress, whom he allegedly loves, horribly. Of course, Harvey almost always played a cad in his movie roles, and Butterfield 8 is no exception. The film’s title, which should technically have the first two letters capitalized but autocorrect says otherwise, is the number for the phone service she uses for receiving and sending messages from her numerous male friends and from the agency for which she models clothes. Despite the obstacles – he’s married, she wants to define the terms of her relationships herself – they fall in love after spending a week together. They also have a lot of sex in a lot of places, at his apartment, in a motel room, on a boat, even in the backseat of her car – none of which are shown on the screen, of course. Still, that would be pretty risqué stuff for 1960. An argument over Gloria’s taking of Liggett’s wife’s mink coat leads to the end of their relationship, and Taylor’s reactions to Harvey’s emoting during the sequence at a restaurant and then outside his apartment are marvels of restraint. Remarkably, she won for what is a very subtle performance, not the kind of acting for which actors typically receive awards. The rest of the cast is filled with some strong but short performances by great character actors: Mildred Dunnock as Gloria’s mother, Kay Medford as the owner of the motel where Gloria and Liggett spend time together, and Betty Field as Mrs. Thurber, a friend of Gloria’s mother who has some great repartee with Taylor’s Gloria over the morality of her behavior. Dina Merrill also has some solid moments as Emily Liggett, the wife who seems to know more about what’s going on that she admits. In an unexpected twist, Eddie Fisher, Taylor’s husband at the time of filming, plays her long-time friend Steve Carpenter, a composer who loves and supports Gloria even though he has a girlfriend who doesn’t understand why he stands by a woman like Gloria. Butterfield 8 was also Oscar-nominated for its cinematography, but I don’t see anything about the camerawork that is particularly outstanding. The set design, particularly Liggett’s spectacular apartment, and costume design, especially the many outfits that accentuate Taylor’s beauty, should have gotten some recognition instead. I wondered at times if this film were truly meant to be camp or if it could be considered camp by now, but is some bad dialogue alone sufficient to be camp?

Oscar Win: Best Actress in a Leading Role (Elizabeth Taylor)

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Color Cinematography

Tenet (2020)

 

I’ll be honest: I didn’t quite follow the so-called science of Tenet. Several characters in the film attempt to explain “inverted entropy,” but my lack of interest in physics or whatever branch of science is involved prevented me from comprehending. Maybe it would have all played better had I had the opportunity to see the film in a large theater rather than at home since I might have felt a bit more immersed in the world of the film. However, I’m not sure that you have to really understand the “science” in order to understand that much of the film is about trying to stop a Russian oligarch, Andrei Sator (played by Kenneth Branagh in his most over-the-top mode), from obtaining a device that would allow him to reverse time itself and perhaps destroy Earth and all of its people. The film’s central character, known simply as The Protagonist (John David Washington)—a stunningly stupid name, really—is a former CIA agent who is now trying to stop Sator from gaining the maguffin of what appears to be a little trinket box. Washington’s character works with Neil (Robert Pattinson of Twilight fame), who meets The Protagonist in the future but has returned to the past to help him. Or something like that. Again, it’s a bit of a puzzle, and I’m certain that more careful viewers were able to follow all of the plot twists. I just found them unnecessarily muddled. Instead, I concentrated more upon the spectacular sequences that undoubtedly won the film the Oscar for Best Visual Effects. The opening sequence in a Kyiv opera house involves the rescue of an asset in the midst of the attempted theft of the entropy device. Later in the film, The Protagonist and Neil attempt to swipe the (a?) device from a very secure storage facility at an airport, and they use a full-sized plane to create a distraction. A sequence involving a series of fire trucks and police cars and passenger cars flipping over dazzles, especially when you twist back and watch events (and the vehicles) reverse themselves. Tenet features a lot of travel to beautiful locations, much the same as a James Bond film: Kyiv; Mumbai, India; Oslo, Norway; and the Amalfi Coast in Italy. Still, some of the aspects of the plot don’t quite hold up under intense scrutiny. I realize that The Protagonist reaches out to Kat (Elizabeth Debicki), Sator’s estranged wife, because that’s a convenient way to get into contact with Sator himself, but the business involving a faked Goya painting didn’t contribute anything to my understanding of the plot. Likewise, The Protagonist’s story about trying to help Sator get access to a large enough amount of plutonium to make an atomic weapon seems like a distraction given that Sator has much bigger plans than just one nuclear device. Tenet will probably be forever known as the biggest movie to be released (eventually) during the COVID-19 pandemic, and it suffered a great deal as a result. Many more of us might have experienced the big screen visuals and been even more impressed. It’s certainly a very stylish film in many ways, and aside from its impressive visual effects, it also features very sharp editing. Perhaps a revival screening in the future can turn me around, but the narrative doesn’t rise to the level of the visuals in Tenet.

Oscar Win: Best Achievement in Visual Effects

Other Oscar Nomination: Best Achievement in Production Design

The Jazz Singer (1927-28)

 

The Jazz Singer was not the first film to use sound, as is commonly believed. However, it was the first successful feature film to use synchronized sound and is widely credited with making sound films the only viable option for filmmaking after its release. It is still a mostly silent film, though, and contains just a handful of sequences that feature singing and dialogue. Al Jolson plays the son of a cantor who wants to sing ragtime or jazz or popular music rather than the religious music that his father has taught him to sing. Jolson’s Jakie Rabinowitz is played as a young man by Bobby Gordon. Gordon’s Jakie sings ragtime songs like “My Gal Sal” and “Waiting for the Robert E. Lee” in a local beer garden, and once his father finds out and punishes him, Jakie runs away from home even though it means he must leave his beloved mother behind. Years later, when Jakie (now played by Jolson) becomes an adult, he changes his name to Jack Robin and slowly starts making a name for himself. He meets a pretty girl named Mary Dale (played by May McAvoy)—certainly, she’s pretty for the conventions of the time—and writes letters back home to let his mother know he’s doing well. These letters make his mother worry that he’s fallen for a shiksa, or gentile girl. The film is very steeped in Jewish culture and features several scenes of cantors. I’ve often wondered if the audiences in 1927 were familiar enough with the Jewish culture to understand some or all of the references, or if they were just so entranced by the novelty of people singing and talking on film that they glossed over those moments. Jack still loves his mother, so when he’s given a shot at a show in New York, he returns home, hoping to reconcile with his father. However, the tension remains. Jack has to choose between following his faith and his family’s heritage or choosing to build a career in show business. You’re under a lot of pressure when you’re the only son in a family that has had five generations of cantors and you would be the first not to follow in that legacy. Jolson is not a typical matinee idol; he was already in his 40s when he starred in The Jazz Singer. Yet he became an even bigger star by being in this historically significant film. He sings a few songs in that unique style of his; he does have a “tear in his voice” that listeners respond to when hearing “Dirty Hands, Dirty Face” or “Toot, Toot, Tootsie (Goo’ Bye)” or “Blue Skies.” As his parents, Warner Oland and Eugenie Besserer demonstrate that many actors hadn’t yet perfected the art of film performance; they come across as very stagey in their mannerisms and facial expressions. Jolson fares better, but much of that is due to his singing style. You do a disservice to film history by not noting that Jolson performs two songs while in blackface, “Mother of Mine, I Still Have You” and “My Mammy.” It’s very cringe-inducing to watch as Jolson puts on the blackface makeup for the first time because there’s no reason within the plot itself for his doing so. Instead, it merely taps into a long history of racist imagery in America and its films, in particular. By the time he gets down on his knees to perform “My Mammy” at the film’s end, you wonder why he’d dedicate the song to his Jewish mother while he’s in blackface. I’d seen those two scenes before, of course, as have most people who’ve studied film history, but nothing quite prepares you for how much time the film devotes to this use of demeaning imagery. It becomes even more complicated when paired with Jakie’s desire to hide his Jewish identity by changing his name in order to reach a broader audience (in those days, and beyond, believed to be mostly a white audience). Even though its place in history is secure, The Jazz Singer really raises more complex issues than just its impact regarding the use of sound in future movies. It’s such a shame that the feature film that popularized synchronized sound isn’t a better movie.

Oscar Win: Special Award to Warner Brothers for “producing The Jazz Singer, the pioneer outstanding talking picture, which has revolutionized the industry.”

Other Oscar Nomination: Best Writing / Adaptation

Green Dolphin Street (1947)

 

Green Dolphin Street is quite the potboiler. It’s an epic soap opera about two sisters who fall in love with the same man, about how a woman’s ambitions during the 1840s had to be subsumed into her husband’s, even about the dangers of colonialism. It’s also, for a thrilling six minutes, a spectacular disaster movie. Lana Turner and Donna Reed are the Patourel sisters, and they both fall in love with newly arrived neighbor William Ozanne (played by Richard Hart). Oddly enough, their mother, played by the superb Gladys Cooper, had a relationship decades earlier with William’s father, Dr. Edmond Ozonne (Frank Morgan, best remembered as the Wizard from The Wizard of Oz but demonstrating some real emotional depth here). Reed plays Marguerite, the so-called “nice” sister, and Turner plays Marianne, the sister who’s always scheming and looking for a way to make money. She has a good mind for business, but being a woman during that time means that she isn’t taken seriously. The film has a rather leisurely pace at almost 2.5 hours, but a lot happens to the characters over the span of the several years covered by the plot. For example, William joins the Navy thanks to Marianne’s influence, but he’s charged with desertion after being drugged and robbed in China. That leads him to escape to New Zealand to avoid prosecution. He meets Van Heflin’s Timothy Haslam, who had a secret crush on Marianne back in her hometown of San Pierre off the English coast. (The oddest coincidences occur in this film.) William gets drunk, writes a letter to Marguerite’s father, accidently asks to marry the wrong sister, setting of a chain of events that leads to Marianne coming all the way to New Zealand to marry him. The move challenges Turner’s Marianne, but she acclimates enough to start advising William and Timothy how to run their lumber business better. Turner and Hart may be meant as the primary focus of the film, but several members of the cast have memorable moments. Cooper delivers an amazing deathbed scene, where her character confesses to her husband (played by Edmund Gwenn, still best remembered as Kris Kringle from Miracle on 34^th Street) that she grew to love him more than she ever loved Edmond. There’s a nice parallel scene later in the film when Hart’s William explains how his feelings have evolved for Marianne. Marguerite, the “jilted” sister, is really a supporting role, but Reed does get a very physical scene involving her climbing up the center of a mountain to avoid the rising tides. The film won an Oscar for its special effects, and it’s easy to see why. The earthquake and flood sequence is a true highlight. As an aside, Turner’s character is meant to be pregnant at the time of the earthquake, but of course, she doesn’t look pregnant at all, certainly not in the period costume in which she’s clothed. Films weren’t allowed to show pregnancy onscreen during the era of the Production Code, which is quite ludicrous when you’re told that the woman on screen has given birth. That’s a minor objection, though. Otherwise, since Green Dolphin Street is an MGM film, many elements, such as the production design and costume design, are first rate. You have to admire a film that has an abbey at the top of a mountain so that the sisters are frequently divided from the rest of San Pierre by rising tides. (I guess that’s one way to keep the nuns mostly isolated from the rest of society.) Turner was really more of a movie star than a great actress at this point in her career, and she easily is the most interesting performer in this picture. She’s paired with a rather wan leading man, frankly, so by comparison, she’s given many moments to shine. I think some of her most effective work occurs when she and her family are captured during a Maori rebellion—I told you that a lot happens in this movie. However, as good as Turner is, the script fails her when it requires her to pretend that she didn’t know that William was more in love with her sister than herself. That rings particularly false for an attentive viewer and almost undermines what has transpired in the first two hours of the film.

Oscar Win: Best Special Effects

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Black-and-White Cinematography, Best Sound Recording, and Best Film Editing

Bugsy Malone (1976)

 

The gimmick of exclusively using child actors in a gangster movie makes Bugsy Malone a clever film overall. Adding songs to the mix and you have a quite intriguing genre, the gangster movie musical. Much of the plot is about the rivalry between Fat Sam (played by John Cassisi) and Dandy Dan (Martin Lev), two crime bosses trying to take control of the city. Dan’s gang seems to be coming out on top because they have the use of “splurge” guns, which “kill” people by hitting them with pies (or the makings of a pie) rather than bullets, so no blood. Since it’s a kid’s movie, you don’t actually see anyone truly die, but there are lots of faces and bodies splattered with pies before the film ends. Bugsy Malone, the character, is played by a very young Scott Baio in his first major role. Bugsy is one of those characters on the fringes of the gangster milieu, but he has to step up to help Fat Sam after most of Sam’s underlings get splurged. The biggest star in the movie, Jodie Foster, plays Sam’s moll and the lead singer at Sam’s speakeasy, but she obviously finds Bugsy attractive and makes a play for him. Bugsy, however, only seems interested in Blousie (Florence Garland), an aspiring singer and dancer who really wants to go to Hollywood so she can get her big break. Bugsy tries to help her but faces the obstacle of keeping enough money to buy their tickets while constantly fighting off members of Dan’s gang. Adult situations performed by child actors isn’t an easy feat to pull off, but Bugsy Malone mostly works because it’s meant to be fun, and it is. However, the film is not without its controversial depictions. Most of the Asian actors play laundry workers although one is a member of Dan’s gang. Most of the African American actors are drivers or boxers, and the film does traffic in stereotypes of Americans of Italian and Irish descent. It is very much a product of its time in those respects. Most of the actors are clearly non-professionals, but Foster and Baio demonstrate a clear star quality that led them to have long careers. Foster had a great year in 1976, performing in Taxi Driver and earning an Oscar nomination. Cassisi as Fat Sam is also a highlight; he seems to know that the film calls for a big personality, and he certainly has one. The costumes and production design are first rate, very evocative of the period in which the movie is set, the 1930s. The music, written by one of my favorites, Paul Williams, is also delightful, but it is very disconcerting that the actors are lip synching to tracks recorded by adult singers. Surely, it would have worked just as well to let either the young actors sing or to have younger singers provide the soundtrack. Williams himself sings many of the songs, and that distinctive voice of his is often a welcome addition to the soundtrack. By the way, the final song of Bugsy Malone, “You Give a Little Love,” is the best, but its message gets a bit muddled because it’s “performed” by a lot of people who have just been involved in an epic pie fight. I’ll admit that it is disconcerting at times to watch kids perform as gangsters and molls and other underworld types, especially when the dialogue requires them to crack wise in ways that would suggest a world weariness far beyond their ages, but I suppose that winds up being a large part of its charm.

Oscar Nomination: Best Original Song Score and Its Adaptation or Best Adaptation Score

The Great Race (1965)

 

The Great Race is a sweet if disjointed homage to the kind of slapstick comedies that were common during the silent movie era. Overacting is the order of the day, and Jack Lemmon (in a dual role) outdoes everyone else on the screen when it comes to scenery chewing. Sadly, at a running time of 2 hours, 40 minutes, The Great Race drags a bit too much to be consistently funny. The overall plot is a simple one: two turn-of-the-last-century daredevils join a race from New York to Paris, driving westward across the United States and crossing to Europe via Alaska. The villainous Professor Fate (Lemmon) and his sidekick Max (Peter Falk, not quite as funny here as he was as Columbo) face off against the Great Leslie (Tony Curtis, rather stolid when compared to his former Some Like It Hot co-star) and his sidekick Hezekiah (Keenan Wynn). The race quickly becomes a face-off between the Great Leslie, always clad in white, and Professor Fate, dressed in black. It’s very easy to pick sides when everything, even the cars, is color-coded so obviously. Along for the ride is Natalie Wood’s Maggie DuBois (an odd amalgam of Tennessee Williams character names, isn’t it?), a reporter for the New York Sentinel and an advocate for women’s rights. By the way, there is an interesting subplot involving a group of suffragettes led by the wife of editor of the New York Sentinel newspaper (the wife is played by Vivian Vance of I Love Lucy fame), but the emphasis on women’s rights fizzles as the movie progresses. Even Wood’s “emancipated” character is inconsistently presented, being grossly objectified throughout the last third of the movie. She’s wearing just undergarments, sometimes wet ones, but the closest to objectification of the male characters is when Curtis goes shirtless during a duel. Sometimes you wonder if Hollywood was directly trying to undermine the feminist movement. If you present the suffragette movement but also put your “leading lady” on display as a sex object for a significant amount of screen time, have you really helped the cause of women? Speaking of Wood’s character, where would she have acquired such a large and fabulous wardrobe? The Edith Head gowns are, as always, stunning, and Maggie always has an outfit to fit the occasion, no matter how small her luggage is. The race itself is an odd one, taking the cars through such out-of-the-way places as Boracho and Grommet and Potsdorf. Apparently, you don’t pass through any major cities when you drive from New York to Paris. The Great Race spends quite a bit of time in Potsdorf, primarily because Professor Fate is a doppelganger for Crown Prince Friedrich (also played by Lemmon), who is having his coronation as king the next day. He’s a bit of a drunk and rather loose-limbed in his mannerisms, and he has several people who are trying to keep him from taking control of the throne of Carpania. There’s an attempt to swap out Professor Fate for the Crown Prince, but it’s all rather silly stuff with a lot of unnecessary moments such as the attempted torture of Hezekiah and a change in equipment in the middle of a duel. The Potsdorf subplot ends with a rather epic pie fight that lasts for four minutes and must have taken a long team to clean up after. The film tries to cram a lot of stuff into its long running time, so we have a saloon brawl that lasts about seven minutes and a sequence on an ice floe that goes on for almost six minutes. Throw in a wandering polar bear and a car that emits tons of black smoke and even a sing-along opportunity, and you’ve got a muddled series of moments that don’t necessarily contribute to the impact of the film overall. There’s even a little bit of homoeroticism in a couple of places. It certainly seems like the Crown Prince is enamored with the Great Leslie; he looks as if he’d like Curtis’s white-clad daredevil to “tuck him in” at bedtime, particularly since he feels the General isn’t very good at that task. And Falk’s Max seems at times similarly infatuated with his boss. He tries to kiss Professor Fate when the Great Leslie and Maggie are kissing at the end of the race in Paris. As with most of the details, the movie doesn’t do much with those moments. They pass by quickly, requiring more attention than most moviegoers would give them. That leaves some interesting characters and performances will small contributions. I’ve already mentioned Vance’s role as suffragette Hester Goodbody (again, is this helping the feminist cause?), but her husband is played by the reliable Arthur O’Connell. Dorothy Provine has a small but bright scene as saloon singer Lily Olay, and her performance of “He Shouldn’t-A, Hadn’t-A, Oughtn’t-A Swang on Me!” is a real showstopper. Even Denver Pyle shows up in a cameo as the Sheriff of Boracho. The Great Race throws a lot at you as a viewer. Some of it works, but ultimately, there might just be too much to make it coherent overall.

Oscar Win: Best Sound Effects

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Color Cinematography, Best Sound, Best Film Editing, and Best Original Song (“The Sweetheart Tree”)