HENRY ALDRICH GETS GLAMOR

HENRY ALDRICH GETS GLAMOR (1943). Director: Hugh Bennett.

The Henry Aldrich series, about a bumbling, girl-crazy teen, was made to cash in on the popularity of the Andy Hardy series. This entry is a charming if mildly amusing time-waster that has Henry winning a date with a glamorous movie star, Hilary Dane, played by Frances Gifford. Hoping to convince her studio that she's innocent enough to play Juliet in a new production of Romeo and Juliet, Gifford decides to string Henry along for a romance and goes to the dance with him. When a photo of him supposedly kissing the star winds up in the paper in Centerville, everyone improbably assumes that Henry has become a big lover boy. Soon he's gotten the reputation of a wolf, and his father's plans to run for office are derailed. His reputation as an unlikely Casanova is cemented when he takes Gifford out to the secluded patio at the dance and walks back in sporting the huge lipstick imprint of a kiss on his face. Jimmy Lydon offers a splendid comic portrayal as Henry Aldrich, and he gets able support from Charles Smith as his loyal buddy “Dizzy” and Diana Lynn as Phyllis, the shy girl who has an unrequited crush on him. John Litel is Aldrich's father; while competent, he's not in the league of Lewis Stone, the “father” of the Hardy series.

Verdict: Mildly amusing and easy to take. **1/2.

WHIRLPOOL

WHIRLPOOL (1949). Director: Otto Preminger. NOTE: Plot points are mentioned in this critique.

Gene Tierney, the wife of a prominent psychiatrist (Richard Conte) is caught shoplifting when the ne'erdowell Jose Ferrer comes to her rescue. After using his influence to stifle the incident, Ferrer uses hypnotism to cure Tierney of her insomnia, but his real purpose is to frame her for a murder he plans to commit. His previous girlfriend (Barbara O'Neil) is threatening to go to the D.A. because he helped her embezzle money from her daughter's trust. Tierney is arrested for the crime, but her husband insists that Ferrer is the true murderer – the trouble is that Ferrer was in the hospital after an operation at the time of the murder. This is a very predictable suspense story that runs out of gas long before it's over. Every time Preminger tried one of these thrillers and mysteries (and that includes Laura) he would only show that he lacks the skill of an Alfred Hitchcock when it comes to handling this kind of material. Gene Tierney's performance will hold your attention, but it's also very affected and “actressy” and never real. Jose Ferrer isn't bad in a role that both George Sanders and Vincent Price could have made more of [the least attractive of this trio, it's hard to imagine Ferrer as some kind of lover boy with the ladies]. Richard Conte barely registers as the husband, but Charles Bickford is a bit better as the detective assigned to the case.

Verdict: Not very memorable. **.

MODESTY BLAISE

MODESTY BLAISE (UK/1966). Director: Josey Losey.

It's hard to figure out what Losey and company were thinking when they cobbled together this adaptation of the novels and comic strip by Peter O'Donnell about a shapely thief who goes on assignment for the British Empire. The movie isn't funny or satirical enough to work as a parody, and it is completely devoid of thrills, suspense, and a sense of danger – and hasn't even that much action – so it certainly hasn't the entertainment level of a Bond film. Blaise (Monica Vitti) employs the aid of cockney lover boy Willie Garvin (Terence Stamp) to fight villainous Gabriel (Dirk Bogarde) over some jewels. Bogarde affects such “camp” mannerisms at times that it may be that his character is meant to be stereotypically gay (although a heterosexual Arab has two hunks paint his toenails at one point!), but sometimes Bogarde acts in a more “normal” fashion, so who can tell – or care? Vitti and Bogarde banter well together during a breakfast scene, but the movie boasts not one outstanding sequence. There's an interesting moment when Gabriel's hit-woman Mrs. Fothergill (Rosella Falk) breaks a mime's neck with her knees, but her karate "cat-fight" with Modesty is brief and disappointing. This isn't even as good as an average episode of the British spy parody The Avengers of the 60's. At times it has a Batman TV show (also of the 60's) kind of sensibility but without the amusing aspects. You can miss the moment when Vitti and Stamp break out into song.

Verdict: Nice scenery. *.

JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH

JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH (1959). Director: Henry Levin.

"Oh, goose, goose, goose!" Professor Lindenbrook when his daughter impatiently tells him to come to supper.

One could easily quibble and say that Journey is sometimes too silly for its own good, goes on too long, and that we still haven't gotten the ultimate film version of Jules Verne's fascinating novel, and while all this is true, it is also true that Journey is a very entertaining picture. Professor Lindenbrook (James Mason) is accompanied on the title journey by a student Alec (Pat Boone), a big Icelander named Hans (Peter Ronson), and the widow of a rival professor, Carla (Arlene Dahl). The bickering between Mason and Dahl is amusing (courtesy of screenwriters Walter Reisch and Charles Brackett), and the film works up suspense as our team tries to stay ahead of yet another rival scientist, Count Saknussem (Thayer David) who thinks of himself as the King of the Underworld. One of the most exciting scenes has the expedition encountering gigantic and hungry prehistoric dimetrodons (essentially big lizards) that nearly snack on Dahl. They also come across a section of the lost city of Atlantis [there were monsters in Verne's novel, but no Atlantis.] There are some wonderful sets and art direction; the special effects work is uneven but much of it is quite well done. Mason is excellent; Dahl, snappy; Boone, boyish and perky; and David marvelous as the villain of the piece. Leo Tover's cinematography is first-rate and Bernard Herrmann's beautiful and expressive score is nigh onto perfection. Diane Baker is lovely in a small role as Mason's daughter, Jenny. Verne's basic premise is one of the most compelling in fiction. Very handsome production and even a couple of pleasant tunes sung by Boone.

Verdict: Flawed but fascinating fantasy. ***.

CAPTAIN VIDEO, MASTER OF THE STRATOSPHERE

CAPTAIN VIDEO, MASTER OF THE STRATOSPHERE (1951). 15 chapter Columbia serial. Directed by Wallace A. Grisell and Spencer Bennet.

Captain Video (Judd Holdren) and his Video ranger (Larry Stewart) are up against Vultura (Gene Roth), the tyrannical ruler of Atoma, who not only wants to conquer the planet Theros but the Earth as well. A renowned earth scientist named Tobor (George Eldredge) is assisting him and trying to thwart or destroy the good Captain at every turn. Our heroes dodge a mass of cosmic debris, are frozen stiff as a board, thrown out of flying platforms (to land delicately on Earth due to a sonic air cushion), defeat a spreading radioactive liquid called planenite, and have to deal with some very fast moving mechanical men. The spaceships are just cartoon animation; the planet Atoma is tinted red while Theros is tinted green (Earth is in the usual sepia). There is no love interest or supporting female character. Holdren and Stewart are adequate as the good guys, but they have little humor and virtually no personality. Stewart and Roth (with his big belly comically clad in a tight uniform) are dull villains – Vultura is certainly no Ming the Merciless – and Roth is a particularly poor actor [at least in this; he was fine in Earth vs. the Spider and other films], not even on the same planet as Ming’s Charles Middleton. Tobor’s cackling sinister assistant is more on the mark.

Verdict: This is not a great serial, but it is fun in a minor fashion. **1/2.

THE GODDESS

THE GODDESS (1958). Director: John Cromwell.

Uneven but absorbing film written by Paddy Chayefsky is a fictionalization of the Marilyn Monroe story. While an almost-middle-aged Kim Stanley is an odd choice to play the Marilyn part – she isn't photographed particularly well and never creates the sexy, alluring aura of a Monroe – the producers probably figured a little subterfuge was in order (Monroe was still alive when the film was released) and Stanley's performance is generally splendid. Lloyd Bridges is fine as her second husband, an ex-boxer who only wants to go back home where he's still admired, but Steven Hill's off-kilter thesping as husband number one only shows why he never became a major player. Betty Lou Holland almost runs off with the movie as Stanley's mother, who in youth is a pathetic woman desperate for a better life, and in old age becomes a withered withdrawn bible-thumper. While the film has its slack and cliched moments, there are also moments that are trenchant and powerful. Elizabeth Wilson offers her usual finely-honed performance as Stanley's devoted companion in her later years.

Verdict: Worth a look. ***.

GEORGE SANDERS: AN EXHAUSTED LIFE

GEORGE SANDERS: An Exhausted Life. Richard VanDerBeets. Madison Books; 1990.

An excellent, thorough look at the fascinating life of the fascinating man and actor George Sanders, his four marriages (each of which is a story in itself), his affairs, his attitude toward acting and toward life in general, his films, friends, and troubled final years. Sanders got bored early on with the kind of treacle that Hollywood gave him, and after awhile, took just about any film assignment strictly for the money. He was an excellent actor (an asset to most films) who probably would have done well to take on more challenging work, but had a fear of performing live and appeared to have no interest in being a Shakespearean actor a la Olivier. He didn't die out of boredom, but for more specific reasons which are detailed in the biography. The book is bolstered by major interviews with family members and ex-wife Zsa Zsa Gabor, who remained good friends with Sanders even after their ill-advised marriage was over. You'll also learn about Sander's rather cynical (or realistic) attempts to get his brother Tom Conway started in pictures in London; Conway eventually made it to Hollywood where – with his brother's help -- he achieved much less success than Sanders. The book is peppered by Sander's sardonic comments, quotes, and interviews. A very entertaining and informative read.

Verdict: A fine biography of a fine actor.***1/2.

THE LAST LAUGH

THE LAST LAUGH (1924/Germany). Director: F. W. Murnau.

The head doorman at a prestigious hotel is demoted to basement wash room attendant on the day of his daughter's wedding, and we watch his despair and disintegration as he tries to cover up the disgrace and is rejected by friends and family when the truth is uncovered. Although slow at times, this is a powerful film, greatly aided by the strong lead performance of Emil Jannings, who can be broad at times but is always effective and moving. The film has to be taken as a fairy tale of sorts, as on some occasions it stretches credulity [that only one person, the night watchman, has any sympathy for Jannings, for instance], and the ending is the purest fantasy. Yet the ending has its own quiet power and charm, and can also be taken as a mere expression of the defeated, desperate Jannings innermost desires. The new orchestral score by Timothy Brock is evocative and excellent and adds immeasurably to the film's modern-day impact. A masterpiece. [Karl Freund, who photographed the film, later worked on I Love Lucy which might be seen as a comedown -- at the very least a big change in tone -- were it not for the fact that he helped revolutionize the way TV series were filmed and became an important part of one of television's most enduring and memorable programs.]

Verdict: A near-masterpiece. ***1/2.

THE DAY MARS INVADED EARTH

THE DAY MARS INVADED EARTH (1962). Director: Maury Dexter. NOTE: One important plot point is revealed in this review.

Ever since I was a kid I'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of this little-seen [it's not even in Bill Warren's Keep Watching the Skies] sci fi movie from the early sixties. Be careful what you wish for ... Apparently somebody had this big empty estate with large rooms and beautiful gardens and long pathways that was just perfect for filming. Unfortunately, instead of making a haunted house film or thriller which would have been more appropriate, they instead made a tacky science fiction film with a minimum of FX work. Kent Taylor is a scientist who has sent a probe to Mars. Back with his family for a long overdue visit, Taylor discovers that Martians have landed on Earth as energy forms and have duplicated the bodies of himself and his family. There's a lot of aimless wide-screen wandering around through this pretty estate as Taylor, his wife (Marie Windsor) and their two children see their doppelgängers in the distance and either chase, or are chased by, them. The very downbeat ending, which packs a small wallop – we see the ashes of the bodies of Taylor and his family being washed away after their duplicates replace them – is the only thing of interest about the movie. Richard La Salle fashioned a full-fledged romantic score of a minor variety for the picture with some suitably eerie passages when required. Harry Spalding's script never really catches fire despite some attempts at characterization. The actors do what they can with insufficiently developed material.

Verdict: Not worth the time to track it down. **.

A DATE WITH JUDY

A DATE WITH JUDY (1948). Director: Richard Thorpe.

Young Judy (Jane Powell) is dating Oogie (Scotty Becket) but falls for an older man (Robert Stack) when he’s inveigled into taking her to a high school dance. Unfortunately, Stack also meets a beauteous young Liz Taylor at the dance, and Liz sets her sights on the handsome soda jerk. An added complication occurs when Judy erroneously comes to the conclusion that her father, (a somewhat subdued Wallace Beery) is having an affair with dance teacher Carmen Miranda, who is only teaching him to rumba. You can call this dated, hokey, quaint and everything else, but it’s an undeniably charming picture with many amusing lines and sequences. Powell and Taylor are perhaps a bit too sophisticated to be typical high school girls, but Scotty Becket hits the right note, as does Selina Royal as Judy’s mother. Carmen Miranda is at her snappiest, and seeing her teamed with Beery is bizarre to say the least. Miranda’s song Canto le gusta certainly gets across that "let’s go off anywhere to do anything even if we’re broke" attitude of devil-may-care youth. Judaline is a strange number, although it sounds much better when it’s reprised. Corny Side is a pretty bad song, but it’s very well performed by Powell and Beckett. (The best number, of course, is It’s a Most Unusual Day.)

Verdict: This is easy to take and lots of fun if not exactly a great classic. ***.

ATTACK OF THE GIANT LEECHES

ATTACK OF THE GIANT LEECHES (1959). Director: Bernard L. Kowalski.

A stiff, by- the-book game warden (Ken Clark) gets in dutch with his girlfriend (Jan Shepard) when they argue over how best to deal with a possibly deadly new species infesting the preserve: giant, blood-sucking leeches. Attack of the Giant Leeches isn't really a very good picture -- and rather slow in spots – but it has a certain atmospheric charm and weird authenticity. Bruno VeSota is the colossal husband of the trampy Yvette Vickers, who dallies with the hunky Cal (Michael Emmet). When Vesota forces them into the swamp at the point of his rifle, the leeches appear to grab them and drag them away, with the result that Vesota is arrested for their murders. The giant leeches – or rather leech men -- are played by stunt divers in costume and look creepy without being convincing. The actors are probably better than the picture deserves; Vickers is, as always, extremely vivid.

Verdict: Somehow the darn thing casts a certain cheesy spell. **1/2.

IL GRIDO

IL GRIDO/THE OUTCRY (1957). Directed by Michael Antonioni.

A dubbed but reasonably effective Steve Cochran plays Luigi, a worker in a small Italian city who wants to marry his lover Irma (Alida Valli) upon finding out that her husband has died, but discovers that she's fallen in love with another man. He takes off to forget her, encountering a number of women he treats even more insensitively than Irma treated him. These include his broken-hearted ex, who has mixed emotions about seeing him; a lady who runs a gas station; and a free spirit who seems borderline batty. Luigi is a stoic man who holds his pain all inside until it comes out in what we are presumably meant to see as an act of inescapable self-violence. No doubt the film is fraught with significance of a sort, but the end result – while it holds the attention – seems to be much ado about nothing. Cochran's performance isn't at all bad, but the film would have been better off with a more sensitive type who could at least register some of the character's inner torment. Some good performances, atmospheric photography, but this lacks the brilliance and emotional resonance of the best of Fellini and De Sica.

Verdict: **1/2.

FIRE MAIDENS OF OUTER SPACE

FIRE MAIDENS OF OUTER SPACE (1955). Directed and written by Cy Roth.

This low-budget British production has a group of astronauts flying to the 13th moon of Jupiter, and encountering the last remnants of Earth’s Atlantis, who somehow flew to the moon centuries before (!). Now all that’s left in "New Atlantis" are one old man who is a figurative father to the other inhabitants – a bevy of man-hungry babes. For some reason there are no other men around aside from the astronauts. This is by no means a good movie but it does have some points of interest, one of which is the tall, dark, growling monster that roams the countryside around New Atlantis and tries to snatch away the babes who dare set foot outside the enclosure (although why they do so is never delineated – neither is the origin of the monster). The climax, during which the monster invades the women’s sanctuary during a ceremony, is surprisingly creepy and effective. Strains of Borodin’s Prince Igor and other classical themes provide some atmospheric background, and the crisp, professional cinematography is notable. If Cy Roth had had more talent this might have emerged as something other than a barely passable time-passer. One of the astroanuts, Anthony Dexter, gave a fine performance as Valentino in 1951.

Verdict: Definitely from the same mind-set as Missile to the Moon but not nearly as much fun. **1/2.

THE VISIT

THE VISIT (1964). Director: Bernhard Wicki.

A small European town that is on the verge of bankruptcy drums up a big welcome for a wealthy widow, Karla (Ingrid Bergman), who left the village at 17. Karla has what seems like a happy reunion with her girlhood lover, Serge (Anthony Quinn), who dumped her to marry the daughter of the town's most successful tradesman. At a dinner arranged for Karla, the multi-millionairess cuts through the bull and explains how Serge refused to accept responsibility for her pregnancy, and even hired two other men to say they had slept with Karla. Karla's baby was taken from her -- it later died -- and she was driven out of town as a whore. Now she tells everyone that she will not only give money to the town but to each individual citizen -- if Serge (whom she still loves) is put to death! Serge is at first confident that her offer will be completely rejected by his friends and fellow townspeople, but he is surprised by the depths of human greed.

Based on a play, this is not talky or stage-bound, but it still remains unsatisfying. There are so many fascinating ramifications to the basic situation that are only touched upon. Ingrid Bergman is quite effective as Karla -- Quinn is less so but not bad -- but Wicki's direction is pedestrian. This lacks the dramatic fervor and poignancy that it requires, and it doesn't help that Serge never seems to come to terms with his guilt. The Visit looks good, but it percolates without coming to a boil.

Verdict: Doesn't make the most of its fascinating premise. **1/2.

BATTLE OF THE SEXES

BATTLE OF THE SEXES (1928). Directed by D. W. Griffith.

Griffith’s cinematic and sensitive direction, plus the splendid playing of the leads, makes this a not-quite-classic story of how a man’s family suffers when he moves out and moves in with a trampy gold-digger. Two sequences especially stand out: when the family comes upon the husband and his mistress dancing in a club, and his wife is so devastated she can barely walk. And a frightening, suspenseful sequence when the wife totters near the edge of the roof of her building, contemplating suicide, the streets a very alarming number of floors below. (You get the impression that the actress is in as much danger as the character she’s portraying.) There are melodramatic complications, and the ending is way too pat – the husband forgiven much too quickly – and the characterizations fairly superficial, but this is still rather effective silent move-making and it does hold the attention. Jean Herscholt (the husband) is excellent, along with the rest of the cast: Belle Bennett (wife); Sally O’Neil (daughter Ruth); William Bakewell (son Billy). While Phyllis Haver, who plays home wrecker Marie, is certainly no raving beauty, she does exude a sexy personality and plays well. A chamber orchestra provides an interesting new score.

Verdict: ***.

ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO

ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO (1940). Director: Anatol Litvak. NOTE: Important plot details are discussed in this review. 

In 19th century France, a young woman, Henriette (Bette Davis) becomes governess to the four children of the Duke Theo (Charles Boyer) and Duchess Frances (Barbara O'Neil) de Praslin. Frances is a neurotic woman who lacks the maternal instincts of Henriette, and her condition is worsened by her deepening suspicion that Henriette is trying to usurp her place in the affections of both children and husband. Henriette and Theo do fall in love, but their relationship never becomes intimate. This does not stop Frances from hating her rival with a passion matched only by Theo's hatred of his wife. Rachel Field based the novel upon which the film was based on a true story, making Henriette (to whom she was related) completely innocent, which was probably not true in real life. Casey Robinson's screenplay makes both Duke and Duchess so one-dimensional that it's hard to figure out the true reasons for why their marriage went so wrong and how much Theo contributed to his wife's emotional distress. Theo is supposed to be so noble, but is only -- in essence-- a gigolo who married Frances for her father's money. Frances is made almost entirely hateful so that the audience will be on Theo's side when he commits a frightful act late in the picture. Despite these unsatisfactory aspects, All This and Heaven Too is an entertaining, well-made film for the most part, and moves quickly for nearly two and a half hours. Bette Davis offers one of her loveliest, most subdued portrayals, and wisely doesn't try to compete with an excellent Barbara O'Neil for histrionics. (O'Neil sort of out-Bettes Bette.) Boyer is good, but during his big love scene with Davis he merely seems to be woodenly reciting lines -- where is the passion generated by Davis? Jeffrey Lynn does a nice job as a kind minister who offers Davis salvation -- and romance (and he's younger and better-looking than Boyer, wouldn't you know it? Only in Hollywood!) The movie is drenched in acceptable Max Steiner romantic music, and Ernest Haller's photography is good but not especially striking. There are a host of fine supporting players in the film, and little Richard Nichols nearly steals the show as the adorable youngster, Reynald. If you can watch the scene when the kid lies sick in his bed, near death, without getting a lump in your throat you're way tougher than I am. 

Verdict: Interesting version of historical incidents. ***.

BLACK DRAGONS

BLACK DRAGONS (1941). Director: William Nigh.

Bela Lugosi is, as usual, superior to his material in this movie but Black Dragons is not as awful as some critics may lead you to believe. Lugosi shows up at the tail end of a party of powerful men, and takes immediate mind control of the head of the household, who is hiding a sinister secret. This man never leaves his bedroom, instead giving out orders [actually Lugosi is giving the orders] to members of his staff. He doesn't even come out to see his pretty niece when she shows up out of the blue. One by one Lugosi begins to kill off the man's associates, leaving a small Japanese dagger in their hands to mark the occasion. A young inspector (Clayton Moore of Lone Ranger TV fame) and an undercover lady agent pretending to be the suspicious niece (Joan Barclay) team up informally to try to get to the bottom of things. Why is Lugosi murdering these individuals? The answer is very clever and original but won't be revealed here. Black Dragons is not a great movie by any stretch of the imagination but it holds the attention, and Lugosi's commanding presence and interesting delivery is a definite asset. Click here to read a review of a major biography of Bela Lugosi:

Verdict: Has its moments. **1/2.

THE GREAT MOVIE SERIALS

THE GREAT MOVIE SERIALS: Their Sound and Fury. Jim Harmon and Donald F. Glut. Doubleday; 1972.

An entertaining look at the great and not-so-great cliffhanger serials, with chapters on the imperiled girls such as Pauline and Nyoka; Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers and other space heroes; western heroes such as the Lone Ranger; the aviator heroes; detectives such as Dick Tracy; classic villains; and superheroes like Captain Marvel, Superman and Batman. There are also photographs and interviews with several serial stars, and a foreword by actor Kirk Alyn (Superman and Blackhawk, among others). Harmon and Glut not only tell the stories of many of the most memorable serials, but also go behind the scenes, telling how certain stunts were done, and which serials borrowed footage from previous chapterplays and movies, and which were merely re-releases under another name. The authors' enthusiasm for these great old serials informs every page and makes you wish that more of them were available. [Luckily thanks to the video and DVD revolution many of these serials can be seen in their entirety, which was not true at the time of this book's publication.]

Verdict: Great!

BORN TO BE BAD

BORN TO BE BAD (1950). Directed by Nicholas Ray.

Joan Fontaine is Christable Caine, a scheming blonde who steals away the wealthy fiancé (Zachary Scott) of a friend, Donna (Joan Leslie), but who dallies with her true love, Robert Ryan, even after her marriage. A part that seems tailor-made for Bette Davis or Joan Crawford – even Barbara Stanwyck – works beautifully with the less "bitchy" (but equally talented) Fontaine because she’s able to exude an innocence that makes her conniving ways seem even more atrocious. She sends her lonely and loving aunt away even though Scott is happy to have her in his home, and refuses to go see her when she’s ill because of a party. Ryan, playing a novelist on the verge of success who can’t compete financially with Scott, gets some of the best lines. Regarding Scott (after he marries Fontaine) he says, "How can anyone be happy with a hook in his throat?" and says to Christabel "I love you so much I wish I liked you!" Mel Ferrer plays Gobby, a painter who may have been intended to be a gay character, based on certain remarks he makes about his "harmlessness" to wives and his complete lack of interest in the women in the cast (although he paints Fontaine’s portrait he exudes absolutely no romantic or sexual interest in her). When a man pokes his head into the gallery where Gobby’s paintings are exhibited, and rapidly retreats, Ferrer yells after him "Peasant!" This is a pretty classy, entertaining, well-acted soaper, it’s only deficit being the fact that the characterizations are rather superficial. RKO.

Verdict: Watchable and well-acted. **1/2.

BLOOD OF THE VAMPIRE

BLOOD OF THE VAMPIRE (1958). Director: Henry Cass.

Donald Wolfit plays an unusual kind of vampire, Dr. Callistratus, in this interesting variation on a theme. Although mistaken for a traditional vampire a la Dracula, Wolfit actually has a rare blood disease and needs frequent transfusions, making him seem demonic to the superstitious townspeople. After being dispatched via a stake through the heart, he is brought back to life by a heart transplant (not being an actual vampire, simply removing the stake won’t do the trick – the damaged heart has to be replaced). A few years later he’s the head of a prison for the criminally insane. One of the prisoners is a doctor (Vincent Ball) who’s been framed for killing a patient, and Wolfit has him help him with his experiments -- hiding from him the more dastardly stuff going on in the cellar. The doctor tries to escape to disastrous results, his girlfriend (Barbara Shelley) gets a job as a maid in the asylum, and Wolfit tries to drain the latter’s blood as his love-sick (for Shelley) hunchback helper Carl (Victor Maddern) looks on in horror and ultimately gets his revenge. Wolfit is fine and the other performances perfectly credible in a "vampire" movie with perhaps a more interesting plot than usual. Wolfit’s large, upraised eyebrows seem to have a life of their own. Absorbing and fast-paced, if directed by Cass with no special flair. Written by the prolific Jimmy Sangster.

Verdict: Good old horror film. ***.

AIDA

AIDA (1953). Director: Clemente Fracassi; Conductor: Giuseppe Morelli.

An Italian film version of Verdi's great opera that stars Sophia Loren in the title role, Luciano Della Marra as Radames, and Lois Maxwell (yes, Miss Moneypenny of the James Bond films) as Amneris, the other woman who adores Radames. The roles are actually sung by Renata Tebaldi, Giuseppi Campora, and Ebe Stignani, respectively. The emphasis in the film is on spectacle -- battle scenes, marches, big sets of temples with pillars and the like, long ballet sequences with long-stemmed beauties in colorful costumes and so on. Unfortunately, the opera itself is occasionally severely cut to make room for these scenes, with narration telling the audience what they might have missed in the meantime. The acting by the two ladies is quite good; Della Marra comes off as handsome and heroic and noble (and is almost prettier than Loren) but a bit stiff in the more emotional moments. The singing is simply superb. Loren's delicate lip-syncing doesn't quite match the powerful vocal performance of Tebaldi. Although quite attractive, Loren in Ethiopian colorings is not as beautiful as she became in later films; Maxwell, however, looks so gorgeous that you can't imagine James Bond wouldn't have taken her up on her offers if he saw her in this movie (made a few years before the first Bond film). Musical highlights that have not been cut include Radames' “Celeste Aida” (sung magnificently by Campora); the great martial chorus from act one; the Grand March and choruses from act two; Amonasro's act two aria; Aida's “O patria mia” from act three; Amneris' aria and the final duet for Radames and Aria from act four.

Verdict: An interesting curiosity featuring much of Verdi's great score. ***.

BUCK ROGERS

BUCK ROGERS (1939). Directors: Ford Beebe and Saul A. Goodkind.

Colonel Buck Rogers (Buster Crabbe) and his young pal, Buddy ( Jackie Moran) wind up frozen in suspended animation after a dirigible crash and wake up five hundred years later in the 24th century. [Neither Buck nor Buddy have any reaction to the fact that everyone they know, including all of their loved ones, have died many decades in the past.] There they learn that organized crime has taken over and the world is run by the nasty – and rather colorless -- “Killer” Kane (Anthony Warden). Earth is trying to form an alliance with the “oriental” people of Saturn, but the Saturnians are afraid Buck and his buddies, including Lt. Wilma Deering (Constance Moore), are their enemies and that Kane is a benevolent leader [you would think that his nickname of “Killer” might have given them a clue!] -- and so on. The good earthlings live in a mountain lair known as Hidden City, which Kane is always trying to find the entrance to, and there are mindless, milling creatures called Zugs. There are some impressive matte paintings in this, but the cliffhangers are generally uninspired and often cheat, and the climax is completely unexceptional. This isn't as much fun as the Flash Gordon chapterplays and Kane is certainly no Ming the Merciless! The plexiglass land car or monorail is an asset, as are the art deco sets and ships. The serial features a transporter that disassembles and reassembles individual atoms to move people from place to place many, many years before Star Trek came up with a more sophisticated version of the same idea. The acting is competent, Crabbe is suitably heroic, Moore, pretty and Jackie Moran is a likable and plucky youngster.

Verdict: Okay, but not exactly a must-see. **.

FANTASTIC VOYAGE

FANTASTIC VOYAGE (1966). Director: Richard Fleischer.

Improbable but highly enjoyable tale of a research team that is shrunken down to microscopic size and injected into the body of a scientist with a tumor that can only be operated on from inside the brain. Once you suspend disbelief, this picture just grabs hold of you and never lets go, with actors who do a nice job of suggesting the disquiet they must be feeling (in reality, hardly anyone would sign up for this assignment!) Nearly forty years after its release the special effects still hold up and aren't a bit cheesy. [A planned remake of this film never materialized; maybe because wiser heads realized it didn't need to be remade.] Exciting scenes include the race through the heart, which has been temporarily stopped so as not to shatter the undersea vehicle which the scientists are traveling in; the attack of the antibodies that cover Raquel Welch's shapely form from head to toe; the white corpuscle that eats Donald Pleasance; and so on. Stephen Boyd, as the agent who reluctantly goes along on the voyage, functions as the audience surrogate, hardly believing what he's living through but living through it all the same. Pleasance is in the hammy-horror-movie mode that dominated his screen persona in later years [for a look at Pleasance the fine actor instead of the freak, check out the old Twilight Zone episode entitled "Changing of the Guard,” in which Pleasance – yes, Donald Pleasance – gives a sensitive and excellent performance.] Arthur Kennedy, Edmond O'Brian, and other old pros have no problem handling material which isn't exactly a challenge for them (the movie has a great idea, not great characters). What Fantastic Voyage does have is some superlative sets which help create a whole, new, eerie and compelling universe to explore, and the picture is rich in atmosphere. The blue screen process which blends actors with the backgrounds of arterial and fluid landscapes is handled adroitly. Leonard Rosenman's quirky score, which at times sounds almost atonal, is the perfect background for this kind of movie. The movie won deserved Oscars for special effects, set direction, and art direction. It absolutely MUST be seen in letterbox for the whole Cinemascope effect. NOTE: In his novelization of the screenplay, Isaac Asimov made a couple of corrections. Apparently the filmmakers didn't realize that the shrunken sub wouldn't be able to take air directly from the lungs because the air molecules would be too big, so Asimov added a portable miniaturizer to the sub. They also assumed that the white corpuscle would completely absorb Pleasance and the wrecked submarine so that they could not grow large again and burst out of comatose scientist's body; Asimov has the surviving scientists wisely take the sub and Pleasance out of the body with them.

Verdict: Great science fiction. ***1/2.

SUNRISE

SUNRISE (1927/U.S.). Director: F. W. Murnau. NOTE: This review describes key plot points of the movie.

A beautifully photographed and well-directed, cinematic film from Murnau, but this is also a little too dopey and irritating to quite hit the category of masterpiece, although it certainly has its moments. George O'Brien is a farmer who is tempted by a vamp from the city (Margaret Livingstone) who tells him that if his wife (Janet Gaynor) were only to “drown” they could be together forever. O'Brien is at first outraged by the mere suggestion, but after a few more kisses he dutifully rows his wife out to the middle of a lake and stands above her with murder in mind; only the distraction of a bell saves the woman's life. The best protracted sequence in the movie shows what happens after O'Brien, who can't bring himself to kill Gaynor, rows back to shore and the heart-broken, horrified Gaynor runs off to a trolley that takes both of them to the city. Gaynor's shock, desperation, and despair are almost palpable.

First of all, though, we have to wonder why either O'Brien or the hotsy totsy he was sleeping with thought it necessary to dispose of the poor wife. Sure, her mother could look after their little child, but why get rid of Gaynor in the first place? Couldn't O'Brien have simply done what tens of thousands of other husbands have done and run off to the city and presumable eternal bliss with the vamp?

O'Brien eventually convinces Gaynor that he is full of repent over his almost-murder, and the film abruptly changes into – get this – a romantic comedy as the two have a second honeymoon in the city, going to a dance, a carnival, eating dinner, even running after a cute little piglet that causes havoc in a kitchen. These sequences, like everything else in the film, are extremely well-done, even amusing, but they're completely out of tone with the mood that has been established since the beginning. And frankly, you keep hoping to see more of that mean, sexy vamp.

Then the film turns tragic as the happy couple return home across the lake (but why exactly do they have to cross the lake when he rowed backwards to get to shore after the murder attempt?) and a storm comes up, washing both of them overboard. O'Brien survives, Gaynor is apparently killed, and a distraught O'Brien nearly strangles his lover until he learns that Gaynor has actually survived. The vamp returns dejectedly to the city, and the husband and wife wake up to a brand new sunrise with their child.

The trouble with the movie is that no wife could ever look at her husband in the same way after she realizes that he had made a conscious and planned decision to kill her (and it would take more than a couple of hours to get over it). You're never convinced that O'Brien won't eventually want to hook up with the vamp again. Yet we have to remember that Murnau's films were often like poetic fairy tales [for instance The Last Laugh], so these criticisms have to be taken with a grain of salt, although it is also probably true that Murnau wanted you to take this film in perfect seriousness. That is not possible to do. But it is possible to appreciate its many moments of beauty and power, its inventive approach to many sequences, the excellent photography by Karl Struss, fine acting by the leads, and a highly effective musical score (in the later sound version currently being shown on Fox Movie Channel). Despite its glaring flaws, it is easy to see why Sunrise is much beloved in some quarters.

Verdict: Definitely worth a look. ***.

VALLEY OF THE KINGS

VALLEY OF THE KINGS (1954). Director: Robert Pirosh.

In Cairo in 1900 archaeologist Robert Taylor teams up with Eleanor Parker to find the tomb of Rahotep so that Parker can prove her late father's theories. Kurt Kaznar, as the sinister, knife-wielding Ahmed, is in league with Parker's slick husband, “Philip Mercedes,” a tomb-robber. In addition to some beautiful scenic vistas and good photography, the picture features scuttling scorpions under the bedsheets, a spectacular sand storm that seems to wipe away half of the cast, and a fist fight between Taylor and Parker's husband high on top of a majestic sphinx that ends, naturally enough, with a fatal fall. This last sequence is completely silent – except for grunts and punches – and could have used some musical background. There's also a growling, bad-tempered camel for good measure. The picture is by no means a classic, but it holds the attention and has some very good sequences. Taylor handles the derring-do nicely enough, and Parker is generally fine, although a bit wasted in this kind of material.

Verdict: Not bad timepasser. **12.

INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1956)

Dana Wynter, Kevin McCarthy and King Donovan

INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1956). Director: Don Siegel.

Miles, a young doctor (Kevin McCarthy) returns from a trip to his home town of Santa Mira and discovers that many of the residents – his patients – are convinced that their loved ones – mothers, uncles, husbands and the like -- are not really their loved ones anymore. He and his one true love Becky (Dana Wynter) discover that the townspeople are slowly being replaced by unemotional, alien doppelgängers, This low-budget terror-by-daylight masterpiece manages to be creepy by slowly inserting the outré, such as a half-formed “corpse” slowly taking on the features of one victim, into the ordinary. Although this is as much a horror film as science fiction, it generally avoids the usual horror conventions, and there are no monsters in the sense that the monsters are alternate versions of us. [The film's detractors complain about this very prosaic, matter-of-fact element, which seems deliberate and not just due to budgetary restrictions.] In the fifties this was seen as having a subtext of anti-communism although today it can just as easily be seen (and usually is) as a comment on McCarthyism and the fear of non-conformity. Hell, mainly it works because it's just a good, scary movie that is very disquieting and even poignant: remember -- the townspeople are not just turned into drones, they are killed and replaced, their feelings, aspirations, and personalities [except when “performing” for the unconverted] simply eradicated. If there's a general flaw to the film it is that despite its intelligence, it at times fails to rise above a certain “schlock” level. Although Wynter and especially McCarthy are quite good in the film, neither of them really gets across the raw, terrified desperation – in fact, the utter despair -- they should be feeling. But the film is very well photographed, interestingly scored by Carmen Dragon (although the opening theme is forgettable), and for the most part works -- and chills – beautifully. One scene that always gives one pause is when Becky falls asleep and is replaced while Miles checks out the source of some music in the distance. One has to assume that a pod was somehow left near where she was sleeping, and that the duplicate put on her clothes and assumed the same position as the now-dead Becky. [The 1978 remake pretty much shows this happening, but despite some good sequences, it doesn't really compare to the original, being at times campy and a bit slow.]

Verdict: Great scary science fiction. ***1/2.

I VITELLONI

I VITELLONI (1953). Director/writer: Federico Fellini.

This is a charming and engaging slice of life about five friends and their life in a small post-war Italian town. Fausto (Franco Fabrizi) is a rake who has knocked up a young lady, Sandra ([E]Leonora Ruffo), and who wants to flee, but his father forces him to marry her – although he can't keep his hands off other women. Alberto (Alberto Sordi) lives with – and is supported by – his mother and sister but it looks like he'll have to get a job when his sister, who's involved with a married man, leaves home. Leopoldo (Leopoldo Trieste) is a would-be playwright who shows his work to an aging actor who's more interested in cadging a meal – and perhaps sexual favors – from the fellow than he is in mounting his work. Riccardo (Riccardo Fellini) is a tenor, and sensitive Moraldo (Franco Interlenghi) is the brother of Sandra who longs for something that small- town life cannot give him. The movie may not necessarily be “deep,” but there's a lot going on beneath the surface, and it casts a spell if for no other reason than its sheer quality: it is beautifully directed, photographed, acted, and features a lovely score by Nino Rota. Moraldo is a bit of a shadowy figure – today his friendship with the twelve-year-old Guido (Guido Martufi) would raise eyebrows, although in Guido he actually sees himself – but perhaps the saddest character is Leopoldo. He is representative of all the wannabes in small towns who long for art and culture but haven't the talent or wherewithal to make their dreams a reality. All of these young men long for something else, but Moraldo [Fellini himself?] – whose dreams are never expressed – is the only one who actually leaves. There are many striking characters and images in the film, such as the village "idiot" poignantly touching the statue of the angel on the beach, and the middle-aged wife of Fausto's boss, whose sensuality is momentarily awakened by Fausto's touch even as she recoils from it. The actors playing these young men may all seem a few years too old but I think the point is that they are all past the age where they should have long since left home and found themselves.

Verdict: A lovely movie. ****. 

THE IMMORTAL COUNT: The Life and Films of Bela Lugosi

THE IMMORTAL COUNT: The Life and Films of Bela Lugosi. Arthur Lenning. University Press of Kentucky; 2003.

A life-long fan of Bela Lugosi, Lenning has written an exemplary look into the life and art of the under-rated Hungarian actor that continually makes the point that he was a fine performer who deserved better and larger roles than the ones he was given. Lugosi was a stage star and matinée idol in his native land, then played Dracula on the stage in America, and nearly wasn't cast in the Hollywood version. It might have been a blessing had he not been cast as the vampire count, because he was almost always typecast in every screen appearance thereafter. On the other hand, without his association with the vampire, Lugosi might have had just as bad luck in pictures and been completely forgotten . It is ironic that a man who was often overlooked and undervalued during his lifetime and who frequently had financial problems, has become such a famous icon, nowadays making money for everyone but himself – a renaissance he was unable to benefit from. Lenning leaves no stone unturned in delving into Lugosi's private life, many marriages, drug habits, non-relationship with his son Bela George, and he takes on all former biographers and co-workers to get at the truth. Lenning also analyzes all of Lugosi's films and performances. Occasionally his synopses are over-long, but he always has interesting things to say about the pictures, making the reader want to look at each film one more time. There are many photos throughout the book, including shots of Lugosi as a handsome young man in Hungary. One very poignant photo shows the author as a young boy meeting his idol. It is so clear from the expression on young Lenning's face that this is one of the happiest days of his life; and Lugosi looks so warm and kind-hearted, so pleased to play host to his adoring little friend, that the snapshot is very moving. Although Lugosi might not have welcomed this frank a book, and likely would have protested various assertions out of human vanity, there is no denying that it is a work of scholarship and a sincere and excellent labor of love.

Verdict: A great biography of a great star.