WILD RIVER

WILD RIVER (1960). Director: Elia Kazan.

Chuck Glover (Montgomery Clift), a representative of the Tennessee Valley Authority, tries to persuade an elderly woman, Ella Garth (Jo Van Fleet), that she must leave her home before the whole area is flooded to make a damn for electric power, as well as to tame a river that has taken many lives. (A very affecting prologue presents what appears to be actual newsreel footage of a heart-broken man telling how most of his family was swept away by flood waters.) But Ella is very eloquent about what the land means to her, and why she is adamant about dying in her home. In the meantime Glover begins a romance with the old lady's grand-daughter, Carol (Lee Remick), and has to deal with racists who object to his hiring black workers and paying them a decent wage. This is another interesting social drama by Elia Kazan, imperfect and not always riveting, but bolstered by fine acting and photography. The secondary love story between Chuck and Carol isn't that compelling, even though Remick gives a lovely performance and Clift, as ever, is solid. Van Fleet, who was actually only 46 when the film came out, is simply superb as Ella Garth, and as others have noted, it's a shame that she wasn't even nominated for an Oscar.

Verdict: Worth viewing for an outstanding Van Fleet. ***.

WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD

Frankie Darro and Edwin Phillips

WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD (1933). Director: William A. Wellman.

During the depression, two friends, Eddie (Frankie Darro of No Greater Glory) and Tommy (Edwin Phillips), decide to leave town and look for work when it is clear that their desperate parents haven't enough money to provide for them. On the rails the fellows meet a young lady named Sally (Dorothy Coonan) who is hoping to hook up with her aunt. Things don't quite work out as planned for any of them ... Wild Boys of the Road, a rather heavy-handed message film, purports to be a study of the situation of homeless youth in the thirties, but unfortunately it has too much of an Eastside Kids sensibility to be the masterpiece it might have been. The light touch throughout most of the film is at odds with the very grim subject matter, and once the ever-weird Sterling Holloway [Cheers for Miss Bishop] shows up the picture almost loses it completely. On the other hand, the acting is quite good (even if Darro is a little too "gosh darn" at times) and the close relationship between the young men is often touching. A scene when one of the boys is hit by a train is horrifying and very well done. Grant Mitchell makes an impression as Eddie's desperate father, middle-aged and out of work and facing eviction from his home, and there are other able supporting performances. The picture resolves many things a bit too neatly (although there is no assurance of happiness for any of the characters), but this has many very lovely things in it, especially a moving scene between Eddie and his dad when the former sells his beloved old car for needed money. Edwin Phillips was a very talented and attractive actor but he only appeared in three films; he lived until 1981. After appearing in just a few movies Dorothy Coonan married director Wellman the following year, retired from films (aside from one bit credit years later), and had seven children with Wellman. Wellman also directed the original A Star is Born and many, many others.

NOTE: In 1932 William Wyler and John Huston were planning to collaborate on a film about just this situation entitled The Forgotten Boys, but it was shelved when reforestation camps opened to employ these youths that same year and the situation changed. It would have been interesting to see Wyler's version of the story, which probably would have been more powerful.

Verdict: The flaws pale besides the honest sentiment. ***.

DELIBERATE INTENT

DELIBERATE INTENT (200). Director: Andy Wolk. Based on a book by Ron Smolla.

A man hires a hitman to murder his wife and paraplegic son so he can get a two million dollar insurance pay-off. The hired killer uses a book called "Hitman" to learn how to commit the crimes. Professor Rod Smolla (Timothy Hutton) and lawyer Howard Siegel (Ron Rifkin) -- after much arguing and debate amongst themselves -- decide to sue Palladin Press, the firm that published "Hitman," claiming that their book led, in part, to the deaths of this horrible man's innocent family. In the resulting trial first amendment rights are intoned, and there are discussions as to whether the book was ficion or non-fiction. This is a thought-provoking telefilm, based on a real case, with top-notch performances from Hutton and the ever-reliable Rifkin. Kenneth Welsh is also on target as publisher Peder [sic] Lund.

Verdict: Agree or disagree, this is fascinating stuff. ***.

MY SON JOHN

MY SON JOHN (1952). Director: Leo McCarey.

Lucille and Dan Jefferson (Helen Hayes and Dean Jagger) have three sons, two of whom are football-playing joes who've enlisted in the Army, and the third of which is -- gasp! -- apparently a communist. This dated movie doesn't look at the issue with any particular objectivity, but it's the detailing of the emotions of the characters and the emoting of the actors that gives the film what little power it possesses. Despite the good performance of Robert Walker, John never really comes to life as a real person. He simply seems like a sophisticate whose relatives are well-meaning, perfectly pleasant bohunks. Jagger and Hayes, especially Hayes, are excellent, although Lucille does seem slightly demented at times. Van Heflin is solid as an FBI agent who's investigating John. Whatever its intentions, this can hardly be considered a serious look at either the communist threat or the threat to freedom posed by men like Joe McCarthy.

Verdict: Lots of talk but well-acted. **.

JUST ASK MY CHILDREN

JUST ASK MY CHILDREN (2001 telefilm). Director: Arvin Brown.

Brenda and Scott Kniffen (Virginia Madsen; Jeffrey Nordling) get caught up in every person's worst nightmare when they are accused of molesting their own children and wind up convicted and sentenced to jail due to overzealous prosecutors caught up in witch hunt fever and influenced by over-coached children who merely say what they think everyone wants them to say. Based on a true story that happened in the 80's, this is both heartbreaking and horrifying. The innocent couple spend years separated from their children, struggling to vindicate themselves. The chilling post script suggests that victims of this witch hunt are still sitting in prison. Very well-acted by Madsen and Nordling and the entire cast.

Verdict: Now this is one scary movie. ***.

THE BRUTAL TRUTH AKA THE GIVING TREE

THE BRUTAL TRUTH (aka The Giving Tree/2000). Director: Cameron Thor.

A group of high school friends now in their twenties have a reunion at a cabin and one of them, Emily (Christina Applegate, who has little to do), winds up committing suicide. Yes, this is another fucked-up-friends-from-high school-with-secrets stinker, a bit duller than others. It all seems like an excuse to hear wailing "sensitive" singers do mediocre songs on the soundtrack. The guys seem to be a-holes; there's a gal with a little girl voice named "Vanilla;" the token lesbian who's come out; and even a game of charades. This awkward blend of dumb comedy with "serious" drama throws in an ugly rape or two just to make it seem profound and meaningful, which it certainly isn't. Justin Lazard appeared on the TV show CPW [Central Park West] and in Species 2 and is given a truly thankless role in this. Molly Ringwald, who plays the wife of one of the pals, was a teen star who isn't likely to have much of an adult acting career as she's pretty bad here. Some of the other actors are okay, however.

Verdict: Pretty terrible. *.

A CHILD IS WAITING

A CHILD IS WAITING (1963). Director: John Cassavetes.

Jean Hansen (Judy Garland) gets a job as music teacher at an institution for mentally-disabled youngsters, hoping to find some meaning in her life. Dr. Ben Clark (Burt Lancaster), the head of the school, clashes with her, warning her that if she gets too close to one child the other children will get jealous. Lancaster feels the children shouldn't be coddled too much if they are to be helped. Still, when Jean learns that one small boy, Reuben (Bruce Ritchie, pictured), waits every Wednesday in his best clothes for his parents to come -- and they never do -- she decides to take it upon herself to get in touch with them, leading to complications. This is a beautiful -- and absolutely heart-breaking -- movie that tugs at your emotions practically from the first frame to the last. While attitudes toward the mentally-disabled and teaching methods for same may have changed since the film was made -- it doesn't seem as if every child, especially the mildly-retarded, must be institutionalized, for one thing -- and despite the fact that producer Stanley Kramer and director John Cassavetes reportedly clashed while filming and during post-production, A Child is Waiting does get across that these young people [most of the children are mentally-disabled in real life] are just people deserving of love and support and a fighting chance to make a place in society, or at least to come to peace with themselves. So while the movie is undeniably a powerful tearjerker -- I'm not ashamed to confess that I blubbered all the way through it -- it also has a message of hope and is therefore uplifting. Call it manipulative at times if you will, but it is certainly effective and poignant.

Burt Lancaster gives one of his best performances as Dr. Clark. He is not lacking in compassion but you also suspect he thinks of his little charges in part as experiments. Judy Garland gives an excellent, restrained performance (and if ever there were a movie where she could have been forgiven for going over the top, this is it) and is so loving and kind to a new little boy at the ending that it's readily apparent that she was deeply moved to be among these children. She also has a nice scene leading the children in a singalong where it's clear -- that while she's supposed to be reacting to the disappointment in the little boy sitting beside her -- that she's holding back tears because of her general feelings for the children. This is more Lancaster's film than Garland's, however, as she's given no big scenes (just well-done smaller moments) and her character is never explored in any depth. Gena Rowlands and Steven Hill score as the confused and tortured parents of young Reuben -- Hill is certainly much better than he was in The Goddess. There are also fine supporting performances from Elizabeth Wilson, Paul Stewart, and others. Child actor Bruce Ritchie certainly makes an impression as the lonely little Reuben. He appeared in one other movie, The Silencers, in 1966.

Verdict: If this one doesn't give you a lump in the throat, check your pulse -- you're dead! ****.

PRAYERS FOR BOBBY

PRAYERS FOR BOBBY (2009 telefilm/Lifetime). Director: Russell Mulcahy. Based on a true story. Teleplay by Katie Ford from a book by Leroy Aarons.

Bobby Griffith (Ryan Kelley) comes out to his family in 1979 California, and they all seem to take it well except for his overly religious mother, whose well-meaning but homophobic attitude only adds to his sense of isolation when he sees his boyfriend with another man -- leading to his suicide at 20. Mary Griffith (Sigourney Weaver) makes it her business to learn why not all churches and religionists believe that homosexuality is a sin, and discovers that what she was taught was based on bigotry and distortion. This is a "safe" gay film that, while admirable and well-intentioned, is also a bit patronizing -- and like something made thirty years ago. In one scene at a meeting of PFLAG --Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays -- the parents all talk of how they knew their children were "different." Not only does this help foster stereotypes about the very diverse gay community, but isn't the whole point that gay people aren't different? Although Weaver of the Aliens series is a little self-conscious at first, she eventually manages to give a first-rate performance -- probably the best of her career. Kelley and the rest of the cast are all on target.

Verdict: Gay Lite, perhaps, but not without value. ***.

TAKE CARE OF MY LITTLE GIRL

TAKE CARE OF MY LITTLE GIRL (1951). Director: Jean Negulesco.
Jeanne Crain plays Elizabeth, a young woman who goes off to her mother'salma mater and hopes to join her mother's sorority. But she discovers that many of the young ladies are rather heartless when it comes to accepting those who aren't the right type. Jeffrey Hunter plays the archetypal drunken frat boy who wants an easy ride through life; and Dale Robertson is pleasant but mediocre as the older veteran whom Liz prefers. Mitzi Gaynor is fun in a small role as a co-ed who disdains sororities; ditto for Carol Brannon as a misfit member of Liz's sorority who has a sarcastic attitude toward their silly rules and regulations. Jean Peters makes a definite impression as Dallas, the chic, sexy head of the sorority, but Natalie Schafer hasn't enough to do as a den mother. Lenka Peterson is effective as shy Ruth, the "hopeless" girl that gets blackballed. One could easily argue that this presents a very stereotypical view of sororities and fraternities, but that misses the point: this is a surprisingly nice movie that makes a point about accepting those who don't fit in, and rejecting those who reject them. Warning: if you're looking for obligatory hair-pulling cat fights, drunken scenes of rape and debasement and the like, look elsewhere. This is not an exploitation film (although it would probably have been more fun if it were. )
Verdict: Pleasant timepasser. ***.

STREAMERS

STREAMERS (1983). Director: Robert Altman.

First a contemporary review of the play the film was based on:

"Streamers" is David Rabe's award-winning play set in an Army Barracks in Virginia in 1965, concerning young soldiers who are preparing to be sent to Viet Nam. If Rabe had stuck to that subject alone this might have amounted to something. Instead he decides to substitute sexual tension for by now cliched racial tension, and introduces a flip, half-out-of-the-closet gay character who is pining away for another hung-up soldier, while two blacks, one of whom is crazy and gay, look on. The problem with this is that even the homosexual situations are by now cliched, and Rabe has nothing new to say on the subject. Although one senses that neither Rabe nor his play are necessarily homophobic, in order to attain realism, most of the viewpoints expressed on the subject are negative. The gay characters are ultimately unpleasant. We keep waiting for Rabe to say something different, to approach a new area, but all he does is introduce us to two drunken older men who rhapsodize about "streamers"—men whose parachutes don't open. Even the violence that occurs at the climax does not really come out of the underlying tensions of the situation. Rabe simply opts for the bring-in-the psychopath ploy. The violence may have been set off by one man's reaction to the sex act about to be performed between the flip gay and the psycho-black, but it is clear that the black has a screw loose and probably would have been set off eventually by just about anything. The play is grim, sometimes moving, sometimes frightening, and effective as a melodrama, complete with assorted contrivances, but not the deep human drama its proponents would have us believe.

Robert Altman's film version is essentially the same as the play, not "opened up" all that much and only somewhat "cinematic." The performances, however are quite good, with Matthew Modine as the doomed Billy, Mitchell Lichtenstein as the flippant gay Richie, David Alien Grier as Roger, and Michael Wright quite vivid as crazy Carlyle. The chief thing that comes across is that -- like in a lot of modern dramas -- there is a lot of yelling to little effect, and that the film, like the play, never really confronts its various issues. It is pseudo-significant. George Dzundza gives the best performance as Sergeant Cokes. There are intimations that his feelings for the dead Rooney (Guy Boyd) are more than platonic, but this, like so much else, goes ultimately unexplored. The way that Billy, whatever his issues, is carted off like so much flotsam at the end, gives the film a certain chilling poignancy. Altman was probably not the best director for the project.

Verdict: Watch Brokeback Mountain instead. **.

THE CRIMSON KIMONO

THE CRIMSON KIMONO (1959). Written and directed by Samuel Fuller.

When a stripper is shot to death in her dressing room, two police detectives -- one Caucasian, one Japanese-American -- who are partners, friends and war buddies are assigned to the case. The real trouble begins when both of the men fall in love with the same woman, an artist named Christine (Victoria Shaw). The film doesn't shy away from the subject of racism, but once it brings it up it dismisses it without examining its reality. Glenn Corbett isn't bad as Detective Charlie Bancroft but James Shigeta makes more of a dramatic impression as his partner, Joe. Samuel Fuller's script has some interesting elements, but is decidedly half-baked. Shaw gives a nice performance and she and Shigeta have a lovely romantic scene together. Anna Lee adds some spice as an tibbling artist-friend of Charlie's.

Verdict: Good idea, so-so execution. **.

THE GREAT WHITE HOPE

THE GREAT WHITE HOPE (1970). Director: Martin Ritt.

Although inspired by the life of black boxer Jack Johnson, this movie -- based on the play by Howard Sackler -- is not really a biography as such. James Earl Jones actually plays "Jack Jefferson," a black heavyweight champion a few years after the turn of the century. White boxing promoters talk a Caucasian boxer out of retirement and tell him that he's the "Great White Hope" to knock Jefferson off his perch. Jefferson is not just hated because he's black and a champion, but because he's living with a white woman, Eleanor Backman (Jane Alexander), and this not only infuriates many whites but some blacks as well. As it examines their tragic relationship, it presents varying points of view from both black and white communities, and looks at the tensions that ultimately drive the couple apart. This is a good movie with some excellent scenes, but it isn't as great as it could have been and it's hard to figure out why. The actors are all very expert -- although they seem to be acting more than actually living their roles -- and perhaps Ritt's direction is too low-key for such dynamic material. Whatever the case, Jones undeniably registers a great deal of charisma and star presence.

Verdict: Worth a look. ***.

STRANGE JUSTICE

STRANGE JUSTICE (1932). Director: Victor Schertzinger.

The lives of two very different men -- Henry Judson (Reginald Denny) and Wally Baker (Norman Foster, pictured) -- intersect in an unexpected way after Baker gives Judson a sock for trying to make time with his girl, Rose (Marian Marsh), at a party. Judson has been embezzling from his bank and finds himself in dire straits while Baker has trouble with money until he wins a lottery, then out of the blue winds up arrested for murder. This plea against capitol punishment is an okay time passer but little more. The predictable race-against-time climax generates few thrills. The acting isn't bad, however, and the film moves at a fast clip.

Verdict: One you can easily miss. **.

INTRUDER IN THE DUST

INTRUDER IN THE DUST (1949). Director: Clarence Brown.

When a white man is shot in the back, a lynch mob wants to string up the black man, Lucas Beauchamp (Juano Hernandez), who was near him at the time, even though the bullet couldn't have come from his gun. A young man, Chick (Claude Jarman, Jr.), importunes his uncle John (David Brian) to represent Lucas, and together they try to ferret out the truth. Elizabeth Patterson has a great scene as the elderly Miss Habersham holding off the angry mob who has come to the jail to grab and string up Lucas. William Faulkner's novel has sort of been reduced to a murder mystery, but the film is effective and holds the attention. Hernandez and young Jarman are very good, but a fairly wooden David Brian is miscast as John. To be fair, John isn't really a kindly type like Gregory Peck in Mockingbird (and his attitude toward Lucas is consistently patronizing), but Brian rattles off his lines without the slightest trace of nuance or even much acting ability. [Brian was better playing a gangster to Joan Crawford's gun moll in a couple of pictures.] One assumes Brian was a contract player and the studio insisted on his use.

Verdict: Okay, but nothing special. **.