THE CARETAKERS

THE CARETAKERS (1963). Produced and directed by Hall Bartlett.

Lorna Melford (Polly Bergen) has been deteriorating mentally ever since the death of her little boy, and her husband, Jim (Robert Vaughn), has no choice but to put her in the Canterbury state mental hospital. There she is enrolled in a controversial new program called "Borderline," where several patients are isolated from the others and may even have a chance at being outpatients in the future. This program is run by Dr. MacLeod (Robert Stack), and he is violently opposed by head nurse Lucretia Terry (Joan Crawford), who has been with the institute for a long time and thinks his methods are impractical and ridiculous. Frankly, although the film clearly takes the side of McLeod -- I mean, "Lucretia?" --  considering some of the goings-on in the hospital you can certainly see Terry's objections. Lorna actually tries to stab one (admittedly unpleasant) nurse, Bracken (Constance Ford) in the back, and runs off only to wind up in a ward with psychotic males who try to have their way with her (what actually happens is left to the imagination). Still MacLeod and his staff -- Nurse Clark (Susan Oliver), Dr. Denning (Van Williams), and Nurse Horne (Diane McBain) -- are convinced that Lorna and the others can someday lead normal and productive lives. Well ... maybe. 

Butting heads: Stack and Crawford with McBain in back

The Caretakers tries to come off as a compassionate and sincere look at the struggles of the mentally ill, and almost succeeds, although it can't quite resist succumbing to the lurid on more than one occasion. Director Bartlett keeps things moving and the film has several cinematic, briskly-edited sequences, such as when Lorna gets shock treatment. Bergen gives a good performance although she almost goes over the top on more than one occasion. Robert Stack comes off like the grim Elliott Ness in the opening sequences -- who would want him for a doctor? -- but he warms up a bit as the movie proceeds and has an excellent sequence when he talks about his own father's mental illness. Joan Crawford plays with her customary authority and gives a very good latter-day performance, classing up the picture to a certain degree, as does Herbert Marshall in his sympathetic portrayal of Dr. Harrington, the hospital's superintendent. 

Joan oversees her nurses learning judo

Inmates are portrayed by such as Janis Paige  [Please Don't Eat the Daisies], who nearly steals the picture as the prostitute Marion, who covers up her insecurities with cutting remarks. Ellen Corby is the grandmotherly type who tries to be kind to all of the others. Barbara Barrie is Edna, who hasn't spoken for seven years, and nearly sets fire to the ward before miraculously uttering her first word. (This is one person who should definitely not be an outpatient! She and Lorna obviously need a lot more help before they can go home, and Nurse Terry would undoubtedly agree!) Robert Vaughn, that ultra-cool Man from UNCLE, gives a strong performance as a man who is simply unable to cope with his wife's severe mental and emotional problems. Susan Oliver and Van Williams are given a well-played scene together as the former wonders if she's really cut out for her job. Constance Ford ["The Creeper"] is effective as the rather cold Nurse Bracken, who backs up Lucretia Terry in every way she can. 

Constance Ford tussles with Polly Bergen

Crawford and Marshall, those old pros, play extremely well together. At one point Nurse Terry says "Sometimes I look back and I see myself years ago," the line given added poignancy by the fact that both, long-time stars, are playing supporting roles in a picture that may not be worthy of their talents. Elmer Bernstein's score has its attractive aspects, but it is also inappropriately jazzy and "sensational" at times. Cinematographer Lucien Ballard gives the film a crisp look, and there is one sobering moment when the camera pulls way, way back to show exactly how large the ward is and how many poor people are, in a sense, trapped there. 

Verdict: For all its obvious flaws, the picture is absorbing, ***. 

CLAUDELLE INGLISH

Arthur Kennedy, Diane McBain, Constance Ford

CLAUDELLE INGLISH (1961). Director: Gordon Douglas.

Claudelle (Diane McBain) lives in a rented farmhouse with her father, Clyde (Arthur Kennedy), and her unhappy mother, Jessie (Constance Ford). Jessie is horrified at the thought of her daughter marrying a poor man, Linn (Chad Everett, who was 24 but looks about 12), and living the same kind of deprived life that she has. Claudelle has nothing to worry about on that score, however, as Linn falls in love with somebody else and she is devastated. Determined not to ever marry anyone, Claudelle embarks on a campaign to date very many boys and acquire gifts from all of them in exchange for you-know-what. In this amusingly lurid soaper, Claudelle's sensuality pits fathers against sons, inflames the lust of her father's boss (Claude Akins), and even starts her mother on the pathway to back seat action! 

Chad Everett, Diane McBain, Will Hutchins

Claudelle isn't really "evil," but the production code insures a "sin and suffer approach" to the proceedings. McBain [Parrish] was very appealing in some roles, and perhaps her casting prevents her from being too slatternly, but she doesn't quite throw herself into the difficult part as other actresses might have done; she's simply a bit too lightweight (although one could argue that she underplays). Arthur Kennedy was always a good actor but sometimes, as in this, he just seems to be going through the motions; Constance Ford is better as his rather desperate wife, and Claude Akins [Tentacles] is just terrific as horny, old Crawford. Claudelle's "suitors" include Will Hutchins, Robert Colbert, Frank Overton, Jan Stine, and an especially charming Robert Logan [77 Sunset Strip]. Claudelle Inglish is trashily entertaining, but it lacks the good dialogue and characterizations that might have lifted it above a soap opera level. Based on the novel by Erskine Caldwell, who also wrote "Tobacco Road." Gordon Douglas also directed the excellent creature feature Them.

Verdict: Lots of fun in spite of itself, but it might as well have been even trashier. ***.

THE CABINET OF CALIGARI

Constance Ford, Daniel O'Herlihy, Glynis Johns

THE CABINET OF CALIGARI (1962). Director: Roger Kay. 

When her car breaks down, Jane Lindstrom (Glynis Johns of The Vault of Horror) seeks shelter at a sanitarium run by Dr. Caligari (Daniel O'Herlihy of Invasion U.S.A.). But her gratitude turns to fear and outrage when she discovers that there's no apparent way out of the establishment and she is being kept prisoner. The other "guests" don't seem to be much help: old Ruth (Estelle Winwood); romantic young Mark (Richard Davalos); friendly Vivian (Doreen Lang of The Wrong Man); firm and deceptively helpful Christine (Constance Ford); and others. When Jane sees Ruth being assaulted by one of the other patients as the others calmly watch, she determines to find her way out of this nuthouse no matter what she might have to do ... 
 

Johns is "helped" by Constance Ford

Robert Bloch wrote the screenplay for this mess, and it's proof that the man could turn out solid scripts as well as ones that should never see the light of day. This is one of three theatrical films for director Roger Kay, who mostly toiled in television, and he's unable to do much with this terrible story. Heroine Glynis Johns, with her squeaky voice and munchkin-like appearance, seems all wrong for this kind of movie, although one could argue that she is the ultimate masochist. Johns gives a good and committed performance, however, although there must have been times when she and the other actors wished they'd chosen a better project. Daniel O'Herlihy is effective in a supposedly dual role, and the others named are all better than the picture deserves. This is a remake of the silent classic The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in name only, although some shots try to ape the expressionistic sets of the original. There is  an explanation for the strange goings-on, but the movie is so utterly tedious that you probably won't want to wait until the ending to find out. There are some interesting touches -- Caligari has a revolving door into his office, and there's a glass panel above Johns' bathtub into which people can peek as she bathes -- but they aren't enough to save this from the scrapheap.

Verdict: A waste of talent and celluloid. *1/2. 

THE CREEPER -- "ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS" CLASSIC EPISODE

Hitch

"The Creeper." Alfred Hitchcock Presents, 1956. Season 1, episode 38. Written by James B. Cavanagh from the story by Joseph Ruscoll. Directed by Herschel Daugherty.

Ellen Grant (Constance Ford of Claudelle Inglish) a housewife married to the loving if grumpy, Steve (Steve Brodie), is constantly on edge because two women -- also blonds, also left alone at night when their husbands are working -- have been murdered by an unknown maniac known as the "Creeper." Ellen is suspicious of everyone: her old boyfriend, Ed (Harry Townes), who comes to keep an eye on her but reveals that he's carried a grudge since she left him; the weaselly, always-smiling new super, George (Percy Helton); the old shoemaker (Alfred Linder) down the block who wants her address; even her neighbor, Martha (Reta Shaw), who says "decent women don't get themselves murdered" and thinks Ellen is carrying on with Ed. The episode builds suspense with each character who appears, all of whom are expertly portrayed by the excellent cast. 

Constance Ford

Topping the cast list, of course, is Constance Ford, one of the very best actresses of the period who appeared in a great many shows and movies but never quite made it to the front rank of stardom but deserved to. She gives a very strong and sympathetic performance in this, and the episode -- while chilling -- is ultimately heartbreaking. I have never forgotten Ford's sad, life-weary, regretful and horrified final words. The poignancy of the ending isn't even washed away by Hitchcock's flippant closing remarks, which are somewhat at odds with the tone of the story. While one can't quite call "The Creeper" any kind of feminist tract, it does illustrate how women can be horribly mistreated by others even when they aren't being murdered.

Verdict: A strong episode of an excellent program. ***. 

HOUSE OF WOMEN

Jason Evers, Margaret Hayes, Andrew  Duggan, Jeanne Cooper

HOUSE OF WOMEN (1962). Director: Walter Doniger.

Obviously having had a very bad lawyer, Erica Hayden (Shirley Knight) winds up in a women's penitentiary even though she was unaware that her boyfriend was going to commit a robbery as she simply waited in the car. Now she's pregnant, and learns that she'll have to give the child up for adoption if she doesn't get paroled in a certain amount of time. Her fellow inmates include Sophie (Constance Ford), who has a little boy -- children are allowed to stay with their mothers in the prison! -- dizzy former stripper Candy (Barbara Nichols); Addie (Jennifer Howard), a stereotypical lesbian; among others, and the staff consists of new warden Frank Cole (Andrew Duggan); tippling Doctor Conrad (Jason Evers); administrator Zoe (Margaret Hayes); and stern guard Helen (Jeanne Cooper). Other characters include Mrs. Hunter (Virginia Gregg), who serves on the parole board; and Mrs. Stevens (Jacqueline Scott), who is a social worker. Complications develop when Cole falls in love with Erica and he cruelly takes revenge upon her, but the real breaking point comes when the stupid Mrs. Stevens takes away Erica's little girl to foster care a day early -- and just before the child's now-canceled birthday party no less! The situations are awfully contrived in this nonetheless entertaining movie that is basically an imitation of Caged. Duggan, Evers [The Brain that Wouldn't Die], Hayes, Gregg, and others are fine, but Knight [The Couch] underplays terribly; Ford is surprisingly perfunctory during some difficult sequences; and Nichols doesn't quite deliver the goods in her big scene when she makes a speech to the parole board. The movie does boast a suspenseful climax when Ford and the others take over the prison! Walter Doniger also directed The Steel Jungle.

Verdict: If nothing else it's fun -- with some good sequences. ***.

A SUMMER PLACE

Troy Donahue

 A SUMMER PLACE (1959).  Writer/producer/director: Delmer Daves.

 "You insist on de-sexing her, as if sex were  synonymous with dirt." -- Ken

Lifeguard Ken Jorgenson (Richard Egan) went off to make his fortune and got married to Helen (Constance Ford) after his true love, Sylvia (Dorothy McGuire), married a man of her class. Her husband Bart (Arthur Kennedy) has fallen on hard times and he and Sylvia now run an inn with their son, Johnny (Troy Donahue), on Pine Island, off the coast of Maine, where Ken and Sylvia first fell in love. Ken returns to the island with his family; feelings between him and Sylvia are rekindled even as Johnny begins an intense romance with Ken's daughter, Molly (Sandra Dee). Then Helen finds out about the affair between her husband and Sylvia ... A Summer Place is distinguished by some very good acting, a frank and positive look at sex, and Max Steiner's lushly romantic score. (This includes the main theme and the younger couple's love theme, which became a hit record; other music is recycled from Steiner's A Stolen Life.) Richard Egan [Wicked Woman] and Dorothy McGuire are excellent, and Arthur Kennedy has an outstanding scene where a drunken Bart confronts his son and Molly when they ask his permission to marry. Egan is especially good in a well-written scene when he's telling off his wife and listing her assorted prejudices. One flaw (among a few) in the film is the characterization of Helen, who is presented strictly as a one-dimension villainess. As such, Constance Ford is fine, but the script and direction (both from Delmer Daves) limit her. Sandra Dee is quite effective as young Molly, and Troy Donahue -- who obviously did his more memorable work with the coaching and encouragement of Delmer Daves -- gives one of his best performances. (Daves used Donahue in four movies, and the actor was always better than he was in such later films as My Blood Runs Cold, in which he was back to being as stiff as a board.) Beulah Bondi has a good role as Sylvia's wise old Aunt, who lives in the inn and tries to give Sylvia sage advice about the affair. A Summer Place borders on the edge of soap opera, and never becomes a great movie -- it's overlong and talky at times --  but it's full of interesting scenes, such as a certain moment between Ken and Sylvia. Sylvia tells Ken that she's sorry she's not as pretty as she used to be. You would expect Ken to immediately tell Sylvia that she's wrong, but instead there's a long pause and he says, "I love you too much to speak." The closeness between the two is so intense that there's no need to tell pretty lies or even to say anything to each other. It's hard to realize that A Summer Place was once extremely controversial, but now it serves as a time capsule detailing the difficulty of sexual and romantic relationships in a less enlightened era. This is another movie that could be filed in the category: How The Rich Suffer!

Verdict: For romantic souls and Troy Donahue fans. ***.

ROME ADVENTURE

Suzanne Pleshette and Troy Donahue

ROME ADVENTURE (1962). Director: Delmer Daves.

"What if something happened to you?" -- Mrs. Bell

"Mother -- what if nothing did?" -- Prudence

Prudence Bell (Suzanne Pleshette of A Rage to Live) decides to resign from her position in a fashionable girls school because she gave a student a too lustily "romantic" novel to read and the old hen board disapprove. Looking for romance herself, she travels to Italy and gets a room in a pensione, where she meets Don (Troy Donahue), who's just been jilted by the wealthy Lyda Kent (Angie Dickinson). On the rebound, Don travels all over Italy with Prudence, as the two fall in love to the strains of Max Steiner's pretty score and all the attractive scenery. But then, who pops back up but Lyda ... Rome Adventure has a few good moments and performances but it's not a very good movie. Pleshette is a good actress, but there's something so unpleasantly aggressive, almost tough, about her that you can understand how she managed to get that tom cat Donahue to the alter (albeit it took two years and the marriage only lasted eight months); she hasn't a trace of vulnerability. As for Donahue, he's slightly better in this than, say, My Blood Runs Cold, perhaps because he was developing some romantic feelings for Pleshette, but anyway you look at it he's no actor. Rosanno Brazzi is the handsome older man whose kisses don't bring out bells in Prudence; Constance Ford -- in a typical Constance Ford movie role -- is the wise older woman who employs Prudence in a book shop; Hampton Fancher is the charmingly shy Albert, an American boy who has a big crush on Prudence; Pamela Austin is a young lady who has a brief flirtation with Albert; Gertrude Flynn is her chaperone; and even Al Hirt shows up playing himself at one point, only to have his haughty model-like date wind up making out with a sexy Italian stallion; all of them are fine. The two best scenes have Prudence and Lyda sparring with each other during dinner with Don and Albert; and a very nice scene between Albert and Prudence on a train. A singer who comes out with "Al di la" in a restaurant deserves his applause, but it's ridiculous when dozens of people start clapping after Don -- remember this is Troy Donahue -- finishes up a poorly delivered speech from Romeo and Juliet [admittedly, Don is no more an actor than Troy is]. As for Brazzi, he had more time to romance Katharine Hepburn (in Venice) in Summertime. Chad Everett is listed in the cast and in the opening credits, but his scenes must have been left on the cutting room floor.

Verdict: Pretty things to look at and listen to but don't expect more. **1/2.