SEX AND THE SINGLE GIRL

Tony Curtis and Natalie Wood

SEX AND THE SINGLE GIRL (1964). Director: Richard Quine.

Bob Weston (Tony Curtis), who writes for a sleazy expose mag called Stop, has just come out with a story on psychologist Helen Brown (Natalie Wood). Dr. Brown wrote a bestseller entitled "Sex and the Single Girl," but the article claims she is a virgin with limited experience. Weston wants to dig up more dirt on Brown, so he poses as his next door neighbor, hosiery salesman Frank (Henry Fonda), whose wife, Sylvia (Lauren Bacall), is almost pathologically jealous, and pretends to be Helen's patient. When Bob and Helen start falling in love, it causes complications for everyone.

Lauren Bacall

When someone got the bright idea of turning Helen Gurley Brown's bestseller into a movie, they should have tried for something more sophisticated than this dumb "sex comedy" that has hardly any laughs. Even the basic premise of a man getting close to a woman who hates him by pretending to be someone else is nothing new. A sequence when not only Bacall but two other women show up at Brown's office claiming to be Sylvia should at least have been fun, but it's as clunky as everything else in the movie. The picture develops a slight degree of momentum toward the end, but it all winds up in a race to the airport with everyone chasing everybody else in their cars or taxis -- a bit with Bacall and a cab driver is kind of muffed -- and an attempt to emulate the kind of zaniness you used to find in Frank Tashlin movies never really comes off. The whole sequence goes on too long in any case.

Tony Curtis

Sex and the Single Girl might have worked if Carol Burnett had played Brown instead of Natalie Wood. She and Curtis give it the old college try, but they can do little to make any of the lines -- some of which are actually funny -- come alive. Henry Fonda is out of his element and even Bacall is mostly mediocre. Others in the cast include Mel Ferrer as a psychiatrist who is interested in Helen, Fran Jeffries as an amorous friend of Bob's, and Leslie Parrish as Bob's secretary. Two veterans who add a bit to the limited fun are Edward Everett Horton as Bob's boss and Otto Kruger as one of Helen's associates, and Larry Storch shows up as a motorcycle cop driven crazy by all the goings-on. There's an inside joke about Some Like It Hot but the references to Jack Lemmon are repeated once too often. The pic tries to come up with some interesting backdrops -- a dock where Bob threatens suicide, the ape cages in the zoo -- but ultimately the movie is just deadly. Fran Jeffries, who sings and dances in the movie, had previously been married to Dick Haymes, and then married Richard Quine, the film's director, the year after this was released. The marriage only lasted four years.

Verdict: And it's nearly two hours long as well! *1/2. 

LOST HORIZON (1937)

Jane Wyatt and Ronald Colman

LOST HORIZON (1937). Director: Frank Capra.

Author and foreign secretary Robert Conway (Ronald Colman) winds up shanghaied by plane with his brother, George (John Howard), and several other passengers: fussy paleontologist Lovett (Edward Everett Horton); possible embezzler Barnard (Thomas Mitchell); and a dying, hard-boiled young lady named Gloria (Isabel Jewell of She Had to Choose). The group winds up in the lost city of Shangri-La, which is run by a man named Chang (H. B. Warner of Kidnapped) and ruled by the supposedly wise and benevolent High Lama (Sam Jaffe of The Accused), a 200-year-old priest who discovered and founded the place. The High Lama tells Conway that the most important thing is to "be kind,' but it never occurs to him that it's not exactly "kind" to literally kidnap a bunch of innocents just because the lovely Sondra (Jane Wyatt) has seen Conway's books (and, presumably, his author photo) and developed a yen for him. Understandably, George wants to get back to his own life, while the others find happiness of a sort in Shangri-La. George doesn't believe the High Lama's story, and takes off with a "young" woman, Maria (Margo) in tow with unexpected -- or rather expected -- results. I haven't read James Hilton's novel in a while (I did review certain portions of it after watching the film) but it has to be better than this movie, which takes an interesting premise and dumbs it down to an incredibly superficial level (there are significant differences between the book and the film). Learning that the pilot is dead, the emissaries from Shangri-La -- the guy's own people -- have absolutely no reaction. Presumptuous Sondra has no guilt that her adored one's brother has been dragged along against his will -- after all, why would anyone want to live anywhere besides the rather dull Shangri-La? -- and Robert seems selfishly absorbed in his love for Sondra. The main problem with Lost Horizon isn't that the hypocritical High Lama preaches love and sanity (he also prophecies WW2 and the atom bomb!)  but it never occurs to anyone that running away from the world's problems is hardly the way to solve them -- an influential man like Robert simply wants to drop out! Portraying George as a hot-head, the movie tries its damnedest to strip the character of any dignity or sympathy, and of course Maria has the temerity to lie about her age. [The man who desperately wants to escape from a land that others worship was later borrowed for a plot point in Brigadoon.] The first half of Lost Horizon is quite entertaining, and there are some good adventure scenes in the snowy terrain surrounding Shangri-La, but the movie becomes irritatingly stupid in the second half, so anti-intellectual, in fact, as to be mind-numbing. As in most movies about lost cities, whether in Africa or Tibet, there's a scene when everyone has to walk along a narrow cliff with a mile-high drop inches away -- surely after centuries they would have found a safer way to travel? Capra's direction is swell, but the wrong-headed script ...! The cast, however, is uniformly good. NOTE: This review is of the restored, mostly complete version.

Verdict: Watch the first hour and then turn it off! **.

SAN DIEGO I LOVE YOU

Irene Ryan sizes up hunky Jon Hall

SAN DIEGO I LOVE YOU (1944). Director: Reginald Le Borg.

Virginia McCooley (Louise Allbritton of Son of Dracula) is so impressed with her widower-father, Phil's (Edward Everett Horton), lifeboat invention, that she's written to the government about it. The government is interested in talking to Phil and seeing his invention, but have by no means accepted it. Instead of waiting to see what they'll say, Virginia gets her father to quit his job and move the entire family -- four little brothers -- to San Diego, merely assuming the boat will be a success. Once you get past that idiotic premise -- I mean, why couldn't they just go to San Diego for a couple of days and see what happens? -- San Diego I Love You is a cute picture. Jon Hall [The Invisible Man's Revenge] plays a handsome, wealthy industrialist, John Caldwell, who might be interested in the lifeboat, and Eric Blore is marvelous as a weird butler who comes with the house the family moves into in San Diego; he and Horton have a funny scene together. Allbritton and Hall are fine in the leads, but the movie is nearly stolen by Irene Ryan [My Dear Secretary], who is hilarious as a woman who is looking for a cheap room and inadvertently thinks the McCooley's have one for rent -- and moves in! Buster Keaton shows up as a bus driver who is importuned to take the detour by the beach instead of his usual route when Virginia and John go on a date.

Verdict: Genuinely quite funny at times with a very spirited cast. ***.

SUMMER STORM

George Sanders and Linda Darnell

SUMMER STORM (1944). Director: Douglas Sirk.

Based on Anton Chekhov's novel "The Shooting Party" this features George Sanders as a Russian judge and Linda Darnell as a Russian peasant! Despite this miscasting, the two actors play well together in the story of Fedor Petroff (Sanders), who neglects his fiancee, Nadena (Anna Lee), after he meets the beautiful Olga (Darnell), whom he knows is "beneath" him but whom he must possess come hell or highwater. An added complication is Olga's unhappy marriage to Anton (Hugo Haas), whose tragedy this chiefly becomes. Darnell is fine, and Sanders offers his usual good performance, but this is an actor whose forte is coolness, not passion, so he never really gets across his passionate feelings for Olga nor anything else. Haas, who also directed such "B" movies as One Girl's Confession, arguably offers the best performance as the likable but tormented Anton. Edward Everett Horton [Lady on a Train] is as good and as much fun as ever, although he, too, seems highly miscast as a womanizing nobleman of ill repute. Anna Lee [The Crimson Kimono] and Laurie Lane as the maid Clara both make a good impression. The whole sordid business comes to a very satisfactory conclusion, although the ultimate fate of one unhappy character is never disclosed.

Verdict: Intriguing romantic drama with interesting cast. ***.

LADY ON A TRAIN

David Bruce and Deanna Durbin

LADY ON A TRAIN (1945). Director: Charles David.

Nikki Collins (Deanna Durbin) is on a train a few minutes from Grand Central Station when she sees a man being murdered from the window. [Agatha Christie used a similar premise -- on an English train, of course -- 12 years later, and did a lot more with it.] Unable to explain the situation with any intelligence to the police due to her "cute" ditsyness, she decides to take her problem to a well-known mystery writer, Wayne Morgan (David Bruce), but his girlfriend (Patricia Morison) objects to her presence. Learning the identity of the murdered man, she attends the reading of his will, and is mistaken for his paramour as in Something in the Wind. [And this takes place at Christmas time as in Durbin's Christmas Holiday.] The actual paramour is Margo Martin (Maria Palmer), a singer at the Circus nightclub, where some of the action  takes place. And so on. This is a fairly dull comedy-mystery, but at least the identity of the murderer may come as a slight surprise. Edward Everett Horton nearly walks off with the picture as an apoplectic employee of Nikki's father; Elizabeth Patterson gives Durbin a good whack in the face at one point when she thinks she's gotten all of the dead man's money; and William Frawley [Fred Mertz] is funny as a desk sergeant who thinks Nikki is nuts. Otherwise, there are only a couple of chuckles in this. Dan Duryea, Ralph Bellamy and Allan Jenkins are also in the cast, and dour George Coulouris seems to be in another movie entirely. Durbin warbles "Silent Night," "Give Me a Little Kiss" [in the nightclub], and "Night and Day" and does a fine job with all of them. Her acting is only so-so, however. Durbin later married the director.

Verdict: Some nice things but it isn't very good all told. **.

THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN

THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN (1935). Director (and photography): Josef von Sternberg.

Anyone who's interested in examining the famous Dietrich mystique need look no further than this 1935 classic directed by her great admirer [and lover] von Sternberg. At the turn of the century during a carnival in Spain, Don Pasqual (Lionel Atwill) tells his friend Antonio (Cesar Romero) about his long-time love for the beautiful if cold-hearted Concha (Dietrich) in an attempt to warn him away from her -- or does he have another objective? This interesting and amusing study of unrequited love and love-finally-won is beautifully acted by all three principals, not to mention Alison Skipworth as Concha's mother and Edward Everett Horton as the fluttery governor, who's also smitten with Concha. The movie is unpredictable and highly sophisticated. One could argue that the ending is wish fulfillment on von Sternberg's part [he was only seven years older than Dietrich, but less attractive than Atwill], but it works beautifully. Atwill, who toiled in many B movies and horror items and always delivered fine performances, is given one of his most memorable roles in this picture. Dietrich sings the delightful "Three Sweethearts." This is miles ahead of von Sternberg junk like Macao.

Verdict: Dietrich and a fine cast in top form. ***1/2.

THE TOWN WENT WILD

THE TOWN WENT WILD (1944). Director: Ralph Murphy.

David Conway (Freddie Bartholomew) wants to marry his next-door sweetheart, Carol (Jill Browning), whom he calls "Poo," but there are complications. Their two fathers (Edward Everett Horton and Tom Tully) have been feuding for years, and worse, it apparently turns out that David and Carol's brother Bob (Jimmy Lydon) were switched at birth and David is really Carol's brother! The yuckier aspects of this situation are thankfully unexplored as the two dads' attempts to destroy an application for a marriage license for the two alleged siblings before scandal can result causes more complications, arrests, and zany courtroom scenes. Charles Halton of Dr. Cyclops is the testy town clerk, Tweedle, who advises everyone of the mix-up; Jimmy Conlon is the Justice of the Peace; and Maude Eberne, who was comedy relief in The Vampire Bat and a zillion others, is Judge Dingle. Even Charles Middleton shows up as a district attorney and has an amusing moment with Eberne. The lead actors are all swell -- Bartholomew's talent didn't vanish with adulthood -- and the film has its amusing moments, even if it's ultimately on the mediocre side.

Verdict: Anything with this cast can't be all bad. **1/2.

THE GHOST GOES WILD

THE GHOST GOES WILD (1947). Director: George Blair.

Monty Crandell (James Ellison) is a magazine illustrator who lives in a house that is supposedly haunted by the ghost of Benedict Arnold. When he uses a caricature of his fiancee's Aunt Susan (Ruth Donnelly) for the latest cover of the periodical he works for, she's so outraged that she decides to sue him. Adding to his troubles are the amorous but very married former client Irene (Stephanie Bachelor) and her gun-toting husband (Grant Withers). Rumors of Crandell's death lead everyone to think he's become a ghost ... Frankly, with its amusing storyline and superior cast (Edward Everett Horton plays Crandell's butler, Charles Halton of Dr. Cyclops is Susan's lawyer, and Lloyd Corrigan is a genuine ghost as well as Susan's late husband), you would think The Ghost Goes Wild would emerge a laugh-riot, but while it does have its funny moments, after all is said and done it's really no more hilarious than one of those Bowery Boys in the Haunted House kind of movies. One suspects that with some different lead players (although Ellison and Anne Gwynne as his fiancee are not bad), a more gag-laden script, and punchier direction this might have emerged a contender. As it is, it's not without some entertainment value. Stephanie Bachelor is sexy and adept as the Crandell-hungry Irene, but she only made a few movies, retiring in 1948 (she lived until 1996). During a very busy career, director Blair helmed at least one episode of Mr. and Mrs. North as well as the grotesque horror item The Hypnotic Eye.

Verdict: Watch Hold That Ghost instead. **

WEEKEND FOR THREE

WEEKEND FOR THREE (1941). Director: Irving Reis.

"Every married man ought to be a bachelor!"

One night when he's tight, Jim (Dennis O'Keefe, pictured) invites a friendly guy, Randy (Phillip Reed), in a club to come visit, and the guy shows up at his house -- and shows no signs of ever wanting to leave. Worse, he and Jim's wife Ellen (Jane Wyatt) are old friends and have great fun dancing all night together. Had this low-grade Man Who Came to Dinner been made in the 21st century, it probably would have had all sorts of psycho-sexual developments [Randy seems stereotypically gay for one thing] but for a screwball forties picture it certainly doesn't have enough laughs. O'Keefe and Wyatt are fine, but the picture is stolen by those old pros Zazu Pitts (as the maid), Edward Everett Horton (Jim's associate, who's had several bad marriages) and Franklin Pangborn (as a waiter in their favorite establishment). This is a picture you really want to like but it's very third-rate and never really erupts into the hoped-for hilarity. And this had a screenplay by Dorothy Parker -- I wonder how much of her original script actually made it into the movie. Not much, I bet.

Verdict: You'll have the feeling you've been this way once too often. *1/2.

HER HUSBAND'S AFFAIRS

HER HUSBAND'S AFFAIRS (1947). Director: S. Sylvan Simon.

William Weldon (Franchot Tone) takes a cream invented by Professor Glinka (Mikhail Rasumny) to entrepreneurs Cruikshank (Edward Everett Horton) and

Winterbottom (Gene Lockhart) with high hopes of great success for all. Rubbed on the face, the cream will eliminate the need for shaving. Unfortunately, after a big advertising campaign, the cream doesn't quite work as expected, but Margaret Weldon (Lucille Ball), Williams wife, saves the day by pointing out that the cream still has it uses. An ungrateful, insecure boor, William is more irritated than relieved, and one of the best scenes in the movie has Margaret telling him off in no uncertain terms. The characterization of the husband, and a protracted courtroom scene late in the film, are the main flaws of an otherwise very amusing black comedy, with the unpredictable results of the cream providing much of the hilarity. Ball and Tone aren't a bad team, but Lucy and Horton are even better in a scene when a newly hairy Horton keeps asking Margaret to run her fingers through his tresses. The aforementioned actors are all great, as is Mabel Paige, who owned Hanson's Dress Shop on a classic episode of I Love Lucy, in the smaller role of Mrs. Josper, who's a witness at the trial when William is arrested for -- well, that would be telling.

Verdict: Bizarre but funny -- if flawed -- black comedy. ***.

BLUEBEARD'S EIGHTH WIFE

BLUEBEARD'S EIGHTH WIFE (1938). Director: Ernst Lubitsch.

Nicolle (Claudette Colbert) falls in love with the extremely wealthy Michael Brandon (Gary Cooper) but right before the wedding she discovers that he's already been married to -- and divorced -- seven other women! Distraught not only by the fact of his previous marriages, but his cavalier -- and financial --attitude toward matrimony in general, Nicolle marries Michael but becomes the Wife from Hell, hoping he'll divorce her and she'll get a lifetime annuity. This meant-to-be-frothy comedy, although written by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett, is comparatively dull and mostly unfunny and illogical, and is no "screwball" classic. Cooper tries hard and has his moments, but he's no Cary Grant, and Colbert is at her most artificial and "actressy." Scenes between the two have absolutely no spontaneity but seem carved in cement. The supporting players, including Edward Everett Horton, Franklin Pangborn, Elizabeth Patterson, and David Niven, are more on the mark.

Verdict: One or two laughs, maybe, and you can miss them. *1/2