(THE EARRINGS OF) MADAME DE

Charles Boyer and Danielle Darrieux

MADAME DE (1953/AKA The Earrings of Madame de). Director: Max Ophuls.

To pay off her debts, Comtesse Louise (Danielle Darrieux) pawns earrings that were given to her by her husband, General Andre (Charles Boyer), but they wind up being given back to her as a gift from the man she's fallen in love with, Baron Donati (Vittorio de Sica), causing mildly interesting complications. Ophuls' most famous film (made in Hollywood) is Letter from an Unknown Woman, which is vastly superior to the French-Italian co-production Madame de. The characters are not that dimensional, although the actors, especially a fine Boyer, do their best to put them over. Despite some of the emotions boiling under the surface, the story is slight and not handled with much dramatic flair. The modestly attractive Darrieux makes too ordinary a heroine. (She had a decidedly brief Hollywood career, appearing in The Rage of Paris in 1938.) I like de Sica better as a director than as an actor, although he is certainly not bad as Donati.

Verdict: A mere trifle all told. **.

BACK STREET (1941)

Charles Boyer and Margaret Sullavan

BACK STREET (1941). Director: Robert Stevenson.

"There's one half of Walter Saxel's life -- and here comes the other half." 

In old Cincinnati Ray Smith (Margaret Sullavan) meets a visitor named Walter Saxel (Charles Boyer), and the two fall madly in love. Unfortunately it turns out Walter already has a fiancee. In spite of this he determines to marry Ray, only fate conspires to keep them apart at the fateful moment. Years later the two meet in New York, and begin a life-long affair ... The best screen version of Fannie Hurst's famous novel transcends soap opera via its superior script, direction, and acting from the leads and indeed the entire cast. Ray Smith's tragedy is that she is clearly an independent-minded woman of strength and character who is undone by her love for a man who needs to keep up appearances and is somewhat selfish in his all-consuming need for her. Boyer doesn't always play up the vulnerability in his character -- Ray fell in love with more than a businessman, after all -- but he is still quite good, and Sullavan is, as ever, simply marvelous for the most part. Richard Carlson [White Cargo, Creature from the Black Lagoon], Frank McHugh, Esther Dale, and young Tim Holt all score in supporting roles. There is an excellent score by Frank Skinner. The book was filmed earlier in 1932, and much later in 1961.

Fannie Hurst's novel has a different, much grimmer ending than any of its film versions. In the 1932 and 1941 versions Ray simply expires a few days after the death of her lover. (The 1961 version has Susan Hayward bravely moving forward in relative splendor.) In both of these versions, as in the novel, Walter's oldest son Richard offers to take care of Ray with monthly stipends. In the novel, Richard is killed, and the stipends cut off. An aging Ray descends into poverty, and takes to gambling (and occasional prostitution) to survive. At the end of the novel she ironically and accidentally has a five hundred franc note thrown into her grasping hands by Walter's surviving younger son. She sees this, in a sense, as Walter still looking after her. When she's found dead of starvation in her room, she's still -- to the amazement of the landlord -- clutching the note ... 

Verdict: A romantic gem if ever there were one. ****.

TALES OF MANHATTAN

TALES OF MANHATTAN (1942). Director: Julien Duvuvier. 

This very entertaining film is a series of tales connected by a tailcoat that proves lucky or disastrous for whoever wears it, including an actor (Charles Boyer) who is in love with a married woman (Rita Hayworth); a man (Cesar Romero) who is about to get married and who has a jealous fiancee (Ginger Rogers) and a friend (Henry Fonda) who tries to help him; a musician (Charles Laughton) whose wife (Elsa Lanchester) gets him the tailcoat to wear on the night he conducts his symphony, to disastrous (and somewhat unlikely) results; and a down-on-his luck lawyer (Edward G. Robinson) who wears the coat to a reunion of his ivy league college buddies who have no idea of how far he's fallen. The final sequence stars Paul Robeson, Ethel Waters, and Eddie Anderson in a charming tale of poor folk (who are not exactly in Manhattan) who have to decide how to spend the money that falls out of the tailcoat. A brief but amusing sequence with W. C. Fields (appearing with Margaret Dumont!) lecturing society folk was cut out for the initial theatrical release, but has been wisely reinstated. The entire cast is good, with special honors going to Boyer, Robinson, and Fields. 

Verdict: Who knew a movie about a coat could be such fun? ***.

MAYERLING

Doomed lovers: Boyer and Darrieux

MAYERLING      (1936). Director: Anatole Litvak. French-language version with sub-titles.

Rudolph (Charles Boyer), the Crown Prince of Austria, is trapped in a loveless arranged marriage, disagrees with his father's politics and edicts, and spends most of his time carousing and womanizing. Until he espies the pretty young Marie Vetsera (Danielle Darrieux) and the two fall in love. Rudolph tries to have his marriage to the archduchess Stephanie (Yolande Laffon) annulled, but neither the Pope nor his father will allow this. The Emperor finally tells his son that this affair must end within 24 hours. The lovers spend one last fateful night together.

the real Prince Rudolph in younger days

Mayerling was a French film that turned Boyer into an international star. (I believe a dubbed version was also released). At 37 Boyer was a few years too old to play Rudolph (who was around 30), but it doesn't really matter. Boyer and Darrieux both give excellent performances in the less naturalistic style of the 1930's. The supporting cast consists of unfamiliar but well-chosen and effective French actors; I especially enjoyed Andre Dubosc as the prince's elderly and loving valet. 

Based on a novel, Mayerling -- named for the prince's retreat where the final rendezvous takes place -- is a fictionalized version of the story. There were at least three subsequent versions: The Secret of Mayerling, a French film that delves into the now-discredited theory that the lovers were murdered; a 1957 version with Audrey Hepburn and husband Mel Ferrer; and the 1968 version with Omar Sharif, which includes another lover of the prince's, an actress/possible prostitute that he apparently also tried to impress into a death pact. I have a feeling the real facts about our prince are much more interesting, and perhaps even less savory, than what happens in this movie. 

Boyer

In real life, Rudolph's marriage to Stephanie began happily enough, but frankly, Rudy was a bit of a dog; he even gave his wife a venereal disease! In the film Rudolph not only cheats on his wife but utterly humiliates her by asking Marie to dance with him instead of her at a royal ball. The couple's rather callous treatment of the wife is kind of glossed over, although the very young Marie does have the sensitivity to say of some gossiping old biddies, "It isn't easy getting old." Mayerling boasts a very arresting and interesting score by Arthur Honegger. Boyer and Darrieux reteamed 17 years later for The Earrings of Madame De.  

Verdict: If taken with a grain of salt, this is an impressive and well-made romantic picture. ***. 

CHARLES BOYER: THE FRENCH LOVER John Baxter

CHARLES BOYER: THE FRENCH LOVER. John Baxter. University Press of Kentucky; 2021. 

This is an absorbing study of the life and career of Charles Boyer, a balding and stocky man, married to one woman for many years, who nevertheless became a Great Lover on the screen. Boyer's career in Hollywood began with him doing foreign versions of American productions, and he maneuvered as much as he could to become tied to a Hollywood studio. Eventually Boyer starred and gave wonderful performances in such films as Algiers, A Woman's Vengeance, History is Made at Night, Gaslight, and many, many others. Boyer wasn't always at the top of his game, as shown in Arch of Triumph, but generally he graced every production he was in. Baxter writes that Boyer outwardly accepted but inwardly resented being given supporting parts as he grew older, but his career was kept alive thanks to these roles and to TV appearances, but no matter how small the role he was always a star (witness The Happy Time, for instance). His final years were troubled by the death of his son, his wife's terminal illness, and his own health problems. Also recommended: Charles Boyer: The Reluctant Lover by Larry Swindell. 

Verdict: Absorbing read on the great star and actor. ***. 

THE HAPPY TIME

Charles Boyer and Bobby Driscoll

THE HAPPY TIME (1952). Director: Richard Fleischer. Produced by Stanley Kramer.

Three brothers -- (Jacques) Charles Boyer, (Desmond) Louis Jourdan, and (Louis) Kurt Kasznar -- interact in 1920's Ottawa, but the focus in this film is more on Jacques' son, Robert or "Bibi" (Bobby Driscoll). Bibi develops quite a crush on the maid, Mignonette (Linda Christian), although Desmond and Mignonette are attracted to each other. Louis is a wastrel and drunk who is married to a seeming shrew, Felice (Jeanette Nolan), who fears her daughter, Yvonne (Ann Faber), will become an old maid. The brothers' father, Grandpere (Marcel Dalio), just wants to have a good time in what time he has remaining. Then Bibi is accused of lying to the principal, Frye (Jack Raine), and the three brothers, united, decide to have a serious talk with the man.  

Louis Jourdan and Linda Christian

The Happy Time settles most of the characters' problems in predictable fashion, but there is a pleasant time in getting there. The performances are uniformly excellent. Based on a Broadway show, the film's two biggest problems are its trivialism of alcoholism and its treatment of some of the female characters. Louis is clearly a hopeless drunk, but no one ever spares any compassion for his wife, whose shrill personality didn't come out of nowhere; her daughter is never developed at all. Marsha Hunt is fine in her brief screen time as Jacques' wife and Bibi's mother, but she also seems under-developed. Mignonette fares a little better, as does the next-door neighbor girl, Peggy (Marlene Cameron), who has an unrequited crush on Bibi and lies to the principal to get even with him.  

Richard Erdman and Kurt Kasznar

Two scenes stand out in the movie. The first is a farcical and funny bit between Louis and Alfred (Richard Erdman), a tight-assed bank clerk who wants to marry Yvonne and accidentally gets drunk on wine that Louis keeps in a cooler. The second is a very well-played scene between Jacques and Bibi which temporarily becomes a little more sophisticated than the rest of the film. Jacques explains to his son that (sexual) desire has caused so many problems in the world that people -- such as the principal -- have come to see desire itself as being evil, but he assures his son that "nothing is wrong with desire." Linda Christian was married to Tyrone Power for a time. Richard Fleischer later directed Fantastic Voyage and many others. 

Verdict: Overly cute at times, but very well-acted, entertaining, and often charmingly sentimental. ***.

THE CONSTANT NYMPH

Boyer and Fontaine

THE CONSTANT NYMPH (1943). Director: Edmund Goulding. 

This is considered a "lost" film because the rights to the novel, play and subsequent film have all been dispersed and lost over the years. While not the masterpiece I was hoping for, The Constant Nymph is still a good picture with much to recommend it. Lewis Dodd (Charles Boyer) is a modern composer whose work is not very appreciated by the critical establishment. His old friend, the composer Albert Sanger (Montagu Love), thinks that Dodd's music lacks heart and soul and won't become really great until Dodd cries (the old business of the artist must suffer). Sanger has three daughters, one of whom, Tessa (Joan Fontaine) is unrequitedly in love with Lewis. Eventually, after old Sanger's death, Lewis marries Tessa's cousin Florence (Alexis Smith) while Tessa and her sisters are sent to boarding school. But Tessa and her soul mate Lewis won't stay apart for long, leading to painful and romantic complications. 

The movie is handsomely produced (it uses one of the sets from The Old Maid), well-directed and very well acted, but it's perhaps too talky and soapy for its own good. Some will find it more sappy than moving. Whatever the case, Fontaine gives an exemplary performance; Boyer is fine if a notch below Fontaine. Charles Coburn is his usual excellent self as the sisters' Uncle Charles, and Peter Lorre offers his usual distinctive persona as a man who courts and marries Tessa's sister, Toni, well-played by Brenda Marshall. But the big surprise is that utterly gorgeous Alexis Smith gives perhaps the finest performance of her career as Florence, who's desperately afraid of losing the only man she's ever seriously been in love with. She manages to summon up as much emotional fireworks as Davis and Crawford at their best without quite going over the top. The movie has an interesting subtext of the war between romantic (melodious and emotional) and modern (dissonant and mathematical) music, and it's even more interesting that the film's excellent score was composed by Erich Wolfgang Korngold, who composed operas in Vienna before fleeing the nazis and coming to America to "slum" for Hollywood. Korngold's music could be full of noisy, dissonant chords, but he decidedly composed in the romantic idiom. However, it wasn't realistic that Dodd's modern music would have been decried during the time the film takes place, as that's just when that type of music was becoming popular.  

Verdict: A highly interesting curiosity. ***.

A WOMAN'S VENGEANCE

Charles Boyer

A WOMAN'S VENGEANCE (1948). Director: Zoltan Korda. Screenplay by Aldous Huxley, based on his short story "The Gioconda Smile."

"I think of Henry all the time." -- Janet.

"No, you don't, you think of yourself in relation to Henry which is an entirely different proposition." -- Dr. Libbard.

Henry Maurier (Charles Boyer) has three women in his life: his bitter, ill and jealous wife Emily (Rachel Kempson); his dear long-time friend, Janet (Jessica Tandy of Butley); and his pretty young mistress, Doris (Ann Blyth). Henry is no angel, which causes him big problems when Emily is found dead. At first everyone assumes she died of heart failure, but the hateful nurse Caroline (Mildred Natwick) insists it was murder. An autopsy shows that there was arsenic in her system, so Henry's new marriage to Doris is interrupted by a trial. The results seem preordained, but Emily's doctor, James Libbard (Cedric Hardwicke of The Winslow Boy), engages in a battle of nerves with the person he believes is truly responsible.

Jessica Tandy

The performances in A Woman's Vengeance can not be faulted, with Boyer managing to make a sympathetic figure out of someone who may not deserve any sympathy. Mildred Natwick and Cedric Hardwicke are both excellent as doctor and nurse. Ann Blyth proves once again that her Veda in Mildred Pierce was no fluke, and Jessica Tandy nearly walks off with the movie in her fascinating portrait of a woman suffering from unrequited love. Called upon to display every possible kind of emotion she is on top of it all in every sequence. John Williams is also notable in a brief bit as the prosecutor, and there are other good supporting bits as well.

Boyer with Ann Blyth

One has to wonder exactly what screenwriter Huxley -- best-known as the author of "Brave New World" -- was trying to say in this little picture. One suspects it wasn't that circumstantial evidence can condemn an innocent man, and one hopes it was more than the old "Hell Hath No Fury" chestnut, but I'm not certain. The feelings of the scorned woman are explored, although her actions are not condoned. While A Woman's Vengeance is not and is not meant to be an Agatha Christie-type murder mystery, the pace does drag after the not-so-big reveal, and Huxley's screenplay is awfully talky at times. Russell Metty is the cinematography and there's a subdued score by Miklos Rozsa. Director Zoltan Korda was the brother of Alexander Korda. Rachel Kempson was the wife of Michael Redgrave.

Verdict: Great cast -- especially a superb Tandy -- giving their all but the film on a whole is unsatisfying. **1/2. 

ALGIERS

Charles Boyer and Hedy Lamarr

ALGIERS (1938). Director: John Cromwell.

Hiding out in the Casbah, jewel thief Pepe le Moko (Charles Boyer) falls for Gaby (Hedy Lamarr), the fiancee of a wealthy tourist. But will the woman who adores him, Ines (Sigrid Gurie), be indirectly responsible for his destruction? Algiers is the first American remake of the French film Pepe le Moko, which had only come out one year earlier. Algiers is virtually a scene for scene remake of Pepe -- sometimes even a shot for shot remake -- but it still has the edge on the French original. For one thing, we have Charles Boyer [Gaslight] in the title role, and he is not only much more "romantic"-looking than the rather potato-faced Jean Gabin, but offers a much more nuanced and emotional performance. Although most of her dialogue is virtually the same as in Pepe, Hedy Lamarr  [Crossroads] gives a much warmer and more human delivery, making her character much more likable. Gurie is fine as Ines, although this version is less compassionate toward her than the original, which cuts her out of the ending and has Slimane, the inspector, telling her off for betraying Pepe. Slimane is portrayed by Joseph Calleia [Five Came Back], and it is one of the actor's most memorable performances. Others in the cast include Johnny Downs as Pierrot, Joan Woodbury as his girlfriend, and Leonid Kinskey as L'Arbi. Boyer sings a song (C'est la vie) as Gabin did in the original, but the sequence where Tania sings has been omitted. Another plus for this version is an effective musical score by Mohamed Ygerbuchen and Vincent Scotto. James Wong Howe was cinematographer. Of course in neither version of the story does the romanticized criminal Moko seem that much like a real person. Incidentally, Boyer never says the line "Come with me to the Casbah; we will make beautiful music together"--  more's the pity! Samuel Goldwyn discovery Sigrid Guris, a "Norwegian" actress born in Flatbush, only made a few movies. Remade as Casbah with Tony Martin.

Verdict: More fun in the Casbah! ***.

GASLIGHT (1944)

Boyer and Bergman

GASLIGHT (1944). Director: George Cukor.

Paula Alquist (Ingrid Bergman) lived in a house in London with her aunt, a famous opera singer who was strangled to death. Years later she comes back to that house with her new husband, Gregory Anton (Charles Boyer). The autocratic Anton berates Paula for her bad memory and for losing things and inexplicably taking pictures from the wall and hiding them. Is Paula going crazy or is there something more sinister going on? Gaslight doesn't make any attempt to disguise the identity of the bad guy in this, but the film is suspenseful in spite of it. Bergman won her well-deserved first Oscar for her portrayal of the confused Paula, and Boyer is equally expert and fascinating. In her first film role, Angela Lansbury [A Life at Stake] scores as the saucy, borderline rude maid, Nancy, and Dame May Whitty is charming as the nosy old biddy, Miss Thwaites. Joseph Cotten offers another effective portrait as a policeman who once met Paula's aunt and is struck by the resemblance; against orders, he takes a new interest in the case. Barbara Everest is also notable as the cook, Elizabeth. The best scene in the film is when Paula nearly has a nervous breakdown at a piano concert. Although Cukor was not a suspense specialist along the lines of Hitchcock, he still manages to craft a nifty thriller, as he did with A Woman's Face. Bergman and Boyer re-teamed for much less felicitous results in Arch of Triumph, as the chemistry just wasn't right for those particular characterizations. At one point Paula shows her husband a glove worn by her aunt and signed by no less than Charles Gounod, in whose Romeo and Juliet she had performed -- what a memento! This is far superior to the 1940 British version of the story.

Verdict: A mesmerizing performance by a resplendent Bergman and fine support from Boyer, Cotten, and Lansbury.  ***1/2. 

ARCH OF TRIUMPH

Charles Boyer and Ingrid Bergman

ARCH OF TRIUMPH (1948). Director: Lewis Milestone.

"A refugee without a passport has lost his membership in the human race."

In pre-WW2 Paris two strangers meet and become unhappily involved. One is Ravic (Charles Boyer), who was tortured in Austria by the Nazi Haake (Charles Laughton), and has taken illegal asylum in France. Joan (Ingrid Bergman) is a woman of "easy virtue" whose latest lover has just died. The couple seem to fall in love, but Ravic's illegal status and very real fear of jail and deportation, means he cannot get married. Then there's the added complication of Alex (Stephan Bekassy), with whom Joan gets engaged during a period when she is alone, and who is very possessive of her. Arch of Triumph, based on the novel by Erich Maria Remarque, should have been a powerful film, and it does have its moments, but it never emerges as the dramatic triumph that it could have been. A big problem -- besides the fact that everything is too prettified -- is that Boyer and Bergman have absolutely no chemistry, and even if one might acknowledge that Ravic might be a rather dour character, Boyer's emotionless and often perfunctory performance -- one of his worst -- doesn't help. Bergman is much, much better, and the picture is nearly stolen by Louis Calhern [Athena] as a friend of Ravic's who works as doorman at a Russian nightclub. Charles Laughton [They Knew What They Wanted] is excellent, as usual, as the repulsive Haake, but much more should have been made of his very final confrontation with Ravic. The fake "prince" Michael Romanoff, who opened his own Hollywood restaurant, plays the captain of the aforementioned club, and is rather unprepossessing. Ruth Warrick comes and goes too quickly to make any impression. William Conrad [East Side, West Side] , who later starred in TV's Jake and the Fat Man, has a terrific bit as a police man who corners Ravic and questions him after the former tends to an injured woman on the street. This is, I believe, the one and only picture made by Enterprise studios.

Verdict: Not terrible by any means, but not at all what it should have been. **1/2.

LOST HORIZON (1973)

Peter Finch seems to be asking: how did I get in this movie?

LOST HORIZON (1973). Director: Charles Jarrott. Produced by Ross Hunter.

A plane carrying several passengers, including peace envoy Richard Conway (Peter Finch) and his brother, George (Michael York), wind up kidnapped to a lamasery called Shangri-La in this musicalized remake of the 1937 Lost Horizon. Larry Kramer [The Normal Heart] seems to have ignored (or never read) the source novel and simply turned in a very slightly modified version of the original screenplay. For instance, in both film versions the two main male characters are brothers, which is not true in the novel. In the book the sole woman on the plane is a prissy missionary, while in both films she's a world-weary gal who's either dying or tired of living; in the color version she tries to commit suicide. This version eliminates a scene when Catherine (Liv Ullmann), who lives in Shangri-La, tells Richard how she wanted him brought to Shangri-La; in fact Ullmann gets few dramatic scenes. Olivia Hussy [Black Christmas] essays Maria (played by Margo in the first version) and is slightly more dimensional than in the original film. George Kennedy's character is very similar to Thomas Mitchell's, but Edward Everett Horton's comedy relief paleontologist has been replaced by an entertainer played by Bobby Van. James Shigeta has a very small role, while John Gielgud and Charles Boyer, of all people, are even better than the actors who played Chang and the High Lama, respectively, in the original film. All of the actors are quite good, in fact. And then there's the music.

Actually aside from a couple of numbers about to be mentioned, Burt Bacharach's score is not bad. His frequently dissonant dramatic music adds much to the picture, and the songs, which might be described as more like lyrical minor arias than show tunes, are generally lilting if on the downbeat side (which may be why so few liked them). Although Liv Ullmann [Cries and Whispers] sang on Broadway in Richard Rodgers I Remember Mama, her songs in this --  "The Circle" and a duet with Finch -- appear dubbed, and so is Finch. Sally Kellerman [Reflection of Fear] seems to be doing her own singing, but I'm not sure about Olivia Hussey when they do a creditable duet, "List of Things I Will Not Miss," in which the former tells of how glad she is to be away from civilization and the latter pines for all the places she's never been (if only more had been made of this aspect of the film). "Peaceful Joys" is a nice enough number, but the decided low-lights of the score include Kellerman's forgettable song, "Reflection," sung to George Kennedy, and Bobby Van's terrible "Question Me An Answer," which is not Van's fault but Bacharach's; this is one number that should have stayed inside his piano bench. Hal David contributed the awful lyrics. [One doesn't expect another "Getting to Know You," but this is just too much!]

The snow/adventure scenes in this are actually inferior to the ones in the original movie, although the trip to Shangri-La seems a bit more realistic. Essentially Lost Horizon in any form comes off like a paean to small-town mentalities, and the High Lama, who has people kidnapped to repopulate his dying city, is not much better than Fu Manchu. The biggest trouble with the movie isn't "Question Me an Answer" but the fact that in both movies -- and I daresay Hilton's novel -- none of the often interesting ideas are explored with any depth.

Verdict: The same length as the original film, although both seem twice as long. **.

RED-HEADED WOMAN

Jean Harlow in one of her best roles

RED-HEADED WOMAN (1932). Director: Jack Conway.

"Don't be so cynical. It's very depressing this time of the night."

Red-headed Lillian Andrews (Jean Harlow) has decided she wants to live on the right side of the tracks and sets her cap for her boss, Bill Legendre (Chester Morris), despite the fact that he is married to Irene (Leila Hyams). Both Bill and Irene discover that neither of them are a match for the determined, super-sexy Lillian, who generally gets what she wants when it comes to men. When she discovers after she snares Bill that no one in his crowd or family will accept her, she decides to seek greener pastures. But can she manipulate things to her advantage without everything tumbling down around her? Jean Harlow is simply smashing as Lillian in one of her best roles, making the character kind of likable without ever being sympathetic. "I'm in love and gonna get married," Lil tells her best friend, Sally (Una Merkel) -- but not to the same man! There have been dozens of movies about marital triangles both before and after this picture, but what lifts Red-Headed Woman above the crowd is the acting and Anita Loos' excellent script. Lantern-jawed Chester Morris is fine as the conflicted Bill, with very good support from Hyams [Island of Lost Souls] as his wife; Lewis Stone as his father; Henry Stephenson [Cynara] as a family friend and business associate who develops a hankering for Lillian; May Robson as Irene's down-to-earth Aunt May; and even a very young Charles Boyer [The Constant Nymph] as the chauffeur who dallies with Lillian at inopportune moments. Una Merkel offers her usual adroit performance in her typical role of the heroine's ugly best friend. Harlow gives a rivetingly exciting performance in this, in full command of her considerable gifts and beauty.

Verdict: Sassy and frank pre-code comedy-drama. *** out of 4.

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE (1962)

Glenn Ford and Ingrid Thulin with backdrop of Notre Dame

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE (1962). Director: Vincente Minelli.

This remake of the silent film of the same title has been updated to WW Two. Argentinian Madriaga (Lee J. Cobb) is dispatched with rather quickly, and most of the story takes place in Paris, where an initially superficial Julio Desnoyers (Glenn Ford) has an affair with the married Marguerite Laurier (Ingrid Thulin of The Silence). Julio's father Marcelo (Charles Boyer) had deserted Army service years before and begs his son to fight the Nazis, unaware that Julio has already joined the resistance. This leads to the movie turning into a ersatz spy picture that has Julio going off on a suicide mission and a final confrontation with his cousin Heinrich (Karl Boehm of Sissi). Other characters include Julio's sister Chi Chi (Yvette Mimieux of Light in the Piazza) who joins the resistance much sooner; Marguerite's husband, Etinne (Paul Henreid); and Heinrich's father, Karl (Paul Lukas). It's amazing that adding all the excitement and peril of WW Two, plus technicolor and CinemaScope, has not resulted in a better movie than the original, but a far worse one. A middle-aged Glenn Ford is horribly miscast -- Minelli wanted a more appropriate Alain Delon but MGM nixed it -- and his love affair with Marguerite never for a minute seems passionate or believable. Scenes that should crackle with tension and drama are frittered away by Minelli's lacklustre direction. Not a single actor ever gets a close up, further distancing us from the characters, and Andre Previn's musical score can best be described as insipid. Milton R. Krasner's cinematography is a plus, but the sweeping vistas do little to pull us into the story. Other changes from the silent version include more wartime interaction between the two families -- one French, the other German -- and Etienne is not blinded. A bizarre sequence has Marguerite telling her husband she's leaving him for Julio the exact instant after he shows up, shattered by being tortured, after months away -- what perfect timing! Badly written and poorly made despite all the technological advances, this is a colossal bore. Of the cast, only Charles Boyer makes much of an impression. Like the silent version, this also has shots of phantom horsemen floating through the skies, and this time it seems even hokier.

Verdict: Stick with the original. ** out of 4.

FLASH ... AND FLESH!

Charles Middleton and Buster Crabbe

FLASH .. AND FLESH.

This is another, somewhat unusual, "theme" week for Great Old Movies, focusing on movies revolving around the words "flash" and "flesh." Naturally we've got the third and last Flash Gordon serial, Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe, and the 1980 motion picture Flash Gordon, not to mention a whole book on the Flash Gordon serials. Then we've got the TV series based on the comic book exploits of the super-hero The Flash. As for "flesh," we've got Barbara Stanwyck and Charles Boyer, among others, in Flesh and Fantasy, not to mention Veronica Lake in her final film, Flesh Feast. Combining both Flash and Flesh, we've got the 1974 parody film Flesh Gordon.

Now who could ask for more?

FLESH AND FANTASY

Who is that masked lady? 

FLESH AND FANTASY (1943). Director: Julien Duvivier.

This is a collection of three macabre stories with a framing device of one man relating the tales to another. The first story deals with a supposedly homely woman (Betty Field) who is given a mask (see photo) that makes her appear beautiful to everyone and that she must return by midnight. In the second story, Edward G. Robinson is given a prediction, which he initially scoffs at, that he will commit murder. The second story runs into the third, which has a high-wire acrobat (Charles Boyer) having premonitions of disaster when he meets a mysterious woman (Barbara Stanwyck) whom he has seen in a recurring dream in which he falls to his death; meanwhile the lady has secrets of her own. In a cast of talented actors, Thomas Mitchell [Theodora Goes Wild] and Dame May Whitty [The Sign of the Ram] almost walk off with the picture and it's quite interesting to see Boyer and Stanwyck together. Alexander Tasman contributed some quirky theme music. Duvivier also directed Lydia.

Verdict: Perhaps less here than meets the eye, but it's well-acted for the most part and entertaining. ***.

TOGETHER AGAIN

Charles Boyer and Irene Dunne

TOGETHER AGAIN (1944). Director: Charles Vidor.

"You're a big shot in the office, and a non-entity at home!"

After making Love Affair in 1939, Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer were "together again" five years later in this slightly screwball comedy. Anne Crandell (Dunne) has been mayor of a small town in Vermont ever since the death of her husband and lives with her father-in-law, Jonathan (Charles Coburn) and neurotic stepdaughter Diana (Mona Freeman of Angel Face). Jonathan wants Anne to have more of a life, to forget his son [oddly] and her attachment to him and to the town they were happy in. When her late husband's statue is beheaded by a bolt of lightning, Jonathan sees this as a sign, but Anne only travels to Manhattan to meet with a prominent sculptor named George Corday (Boyer). After misadventures, including being mistaken for a stripper in a nightclub raid, Anne returns home convinced that George is not the right man for the job. But George follows Anne home and is determined to win her, if only he can get her to unbend ... Together Again basically gets by on the charm and abilities of its leads. A luminescent Dunne offers one of her best comic portrayals and is in absolutely top form throughout, Boyer is sauve and smooth as ever, and Coburn a delight as usual. Unfortunately, the material is second-rate, although there are a few amusing moments. Carl "Alfafa" Switzer has a funny cameo as an elevator boy, and Jerome Courtland [Sunny Side of the Street] scores as a young man who is dating the difficult Diana and often wishes that he weren't. Vidor also directed Rhapsody and many others.

Verdict: Great leads who need stronger material. **1/2.

HOW TO STEAL A MILLION

Peter O'Toole and Audrey Hepburn

HOW TO STEAL A MILLION (1966). Director: William Wyler.

Nicole (Audrey Hepburn) lives in a big house in Paris with her father, Bonnet (Hugh Griffith of Craze), who forges paintings and sculptures and sells them to the highest bidder. Now Bonnet has agreed to lend a phony Cellini statue to a museum, which Nicole warns him is a mistake. It sure is -- the statue has to be authenticated for insurance purposes and it is sure to be exposed as a fake, which will also ruin Bonnet's reputation and call into question every sale he ever made. Nicole decides to steal the statue before the inspection can take place, and enlists the aid of a burglar, Simon (Peter O'Toole of The Ruling Class), that she caught apparently trying to steal one of her father's paintings. There's an undeniable attraction between the two, but can they actually steal the sculpture from such a heavily guarded museum ... ? Although director William Wyler [The Heiress, The Letter, Carrie, four star movies all] wasn't exactly a suspense specialist and was an odd choice for this assignment, he had worked with Audrey Hepburn more than once, and the film still has entertainment value, although it's hardly one of Wyler's best. Hepburn gives another terrific performance, matched by O'Toole, Griffith, and Eli Wallach as a suitor and art collector. Charles Boyer is fine in a brief bit as a colleague of Simon's. Bonnet is in many ways a reprehensible character with no true appreciation of art or artists when you get right down to it. Wyler directed Funny Girl after this, another odd choice.

Verdict: Light and fun if minor. ***.

HISTORY IS MADE AT NIGHT

Charles Boyer and Jean Arthur

HISTORY IS MADE AT NIGHT (1937). Director: Frank Borzage.

Ship builder Bruce Vail (Colin Clive) is pathologically jealous of his innocent wife Irene (Jean Arthur) until finally she's had enough and wants out. Vail will do anything to prevent the divorce, to that end paying Irene's chauffeur in Paris to pose as her lover. Interceding in this phony scenario is head waiter Paul Dumond (Charles Boyer), whose good intentions pave the way for all sorts of problems when Vail decides that he must be Irene's lover and frames him for murder. Believe it or not, it all builds up to a [post] Titanic-type shipwreck. Because of its rather ridiculous plot -- Dumond quits his job to follow Irene to America after knowing her one day, and even drags along the chef Cesare (Leo Carrillo)-- History almost becomes a shipwreck were it not for its romantic intensity and, most importantly, the wonderful performances of the leads. You wouldn't think that Arthur and Boyer would make a good pair, but they play marvelously together and are completely convincing no matter what the story line throws at them -- and it throws a lot. The bit with the ship hitting an iceberg is well-handled on the technical side and the wind-up is moving as well. It's also fun to watch the sharp Boyer taking over an American restaurant and getting everyone to snap to it in record time. Carrillo and especially Clive also offer sterling performances.

Verdict: Quite absurd but also quite entertaining due to the two stars. [It also helps to be an incurable romantic.] ***.

THE 13TH LETTER

THE 13TH LETTER  (1951). Director: Otto Preminger

In a small town in French Quebec, an unknown person is sending anonymous letters to various parties, spreading lies and gossip, causing emotional upheaval, and in at least one case, causing a suicide. Much of the gossip seems centered on the new doctor in town, Pearson (Michael Rennie) and the wife, Cora (Constance Smith), of another doctor, Laurent (Charles Boyer). The suspects include Denise Turner (Linda Darnell) and nurse Marie (Judith Evelyn of The Tingler). Rennie isn't bad, Darnell gives one of her lesser performances, and Boyer and Evelyn walk off with the acting honors. Dark, intriguing, and suspenseful movie. Alex North's unusual musical score is exceptional, especially during a grim funeral sequence. This is a remake of the French film Le corbeau, directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot.

Verdict: A lost Preminger film that is worth hunting down. ***.