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Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970)

5/1/2017

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Today is an odd period for science,  I think.  People in social media proclaim that they "effin'" love it,  and more often than otherwise,  the new breed of Evangelical atheist fundamentalist speaks of science in near anthropomorphic terms.  To hear the phrase, "science tells us..." is an everyday occurrence now,  and one wonders in which sense the speaker means this to be understood; especially so in the same environment in which specific scientific observations by Charles Darwin are often taken out of context and used as homilies for the improvement and clarification of one's moral character.

Things are getting weird.

Especially,  in my opinion,  as we have historically looked upon the dangerous potential of science with a suspicious eye.  The cautionary tale of Frankenstein's corpse reanimation project is emblematic of this feeling,  and really, literature and film are full of dystopic nightmares which virtually begin and end with the unfettered reach of the scientific mind.  Those secular fundamentalists laugh at this idea as backward and silly,  but historically,  it was exactly this type of creative mind that concocted this line of thinking in the first place.  Is the post-apocalyptic theme,  for instance,  that far removed from our experience?  I don't believe it is,  and so apparently do a huge number of writers of speculative fiction in film, radio drama, pulps, comic books and novels.  The fear of the damaging potential of science is always at hand.  Beginning with Hiroshima and Nagasaki,  the toxic excesses of science are all over modern history,  in spite of attempts to place the blame on the users of these ideas;  greenhouse gasses, GMO's, global warming (internal combustion engines weren't invented by the cowboys), predator drones, heat-seeking missiles, nuclear power plant disasters (Chernobyl, Three-mile island, etc.), firearms of all kinds, bacteriological weapons, advanced privacy invasion tech, and on, and on, and on.  Currently, flying robots are actually killing humans, and if one considers the fact that the original Atomic bomb testers didn't know if they would set fire to the atmosphere,  or later, whether the Large Hadron Collider would open up an Earth-swallowing black hole or not,  we really must question the judgements of what is being done in the name of this odd and rapidly growing new religion.

Science has a lot to answer for; if one puts relatively godlike power in the hands of what are virtually children, then one should logically be responsible for the result.

These are very much the issues that the 1970 (1969 in the credits) film COLOSSUS, THE FORBIN PROJECT deals with.  Based on the COLOSSUS trilogy of dystopic novels by science fiction author D. F. Jones,  it stars the  soap opera star Eric Braeden (who, besides his role on THE YOUNG AND THE RESTLESS, also played charismatic German officer Hans Dietrich  on the classic WWII-era TV show THE RAT PATROL) as the calmly serious Dr. Charles Forbin.  Forbin has created the titular super-computer COLOSSUS as a sort of missile defense shield,  devised for the protection of America against the ever present cold war threat of then-Communist Russia.  Forbin,  in conjunction with his team of scientists (populated by hilariously recognisable sitcom actors like Dolph Sweet and Marion Ross),  present Colossus to the White House in what they hoped would be a spectacular demonstration of what their new machine can do.

To paraphrase the words of Forbin,  Colossus was designed infinitely better than they thought.

Immediately Colossus detects another super-computer named Guardian;  apparently the Russians have also been in the game,  and though a step behind,  their computer is advanced enough to take notice.  Colossus and Guardian begin to communicate.  Within hours,  besides formulating tons of "new knowledge for mankind",  the two machines develop their own language,  and one that only they can understand.  This creates a panic.  The president orders the connection cut off, and Forbin is told to reel Colossus back a few steps.  Not a good plan. Colossus makes the ominous threat that, if communications are not restored,  then "action will be taken".

Nuclear action.

This is the beginning of a tense and arduous journey into a terrifying future for the human race. Forbin concocts scheme after scheme to thwart his nearly-godlike creation,  but in spite of great caution and guile, Colossus eventually and gradually turns him into a prisoner.  There are deaths and assassinations,  nuclear detonations,  and when Colossus is finally given a voice (and a chillingly cold one at that),  the future seems bleak and without hope.  It's intense stuff,  and when one considers the missile defense "shield" that we actually had not long after this film was made,  it's two notches closer to reality than one would like to consider.

As Dr. Forbin,  Eric Braeden was excellent.  He was stable and serious here,  and combined with his naturally charismatic good looks and charm, he really came across as the kind of person who could not only conceive of and produce such an advanced contraption,  he also projected the confidence that turned Forbin into the stern anti-Colossus warrior that he needed to be. The rest of the cast,  in spite of whatever other transgressions they might have done on screen, were fantastically interesting as very human characters in this science-driven technological fiasco.  It was a smoothly directed and dramatically plotted project from beginning to end,  and the funky soundtrack (and I mean, like, wikky-wikky guitars) had a fantastic use of the rapid notes of the Indian Tabla drum to illustrate the technical coldness of computer thought.

This is one on my personal list of childhood movie discoveries,  and other than the best friend that I myself introduced it to,  I hadn't met anyone who had seen it until just a few years ago.  It's easily as good as any of the science fiction films of it's era, like WESTWORLD or THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN,  but seldom gets the love or attention it deserves.  Frankly,  it's this film and others of it's philosophical like that have turned me into the semi-Luddite that I am today;  anything more complex than a Blu-ray player gets a bit of the stinky eye, and that's a fact.  So, considering that guys on the level of Microsoft founder Bill Gates and super-physicist Dr. Stephen Hawking have flatly stated that artificial intelligence is the single greatest existential threat to the future of humankind, COLOSSUS, THE FORBIN PROJECT may end up being a prophetic film in a long list of such...and I don't "effin'" love that possibility.

ADDENDUM
:  It occurred to me to mention the 1997 chess match in which Garry Kasparov,  a player who many consider the greatest of all time, was defeated by the IMB computer DEEP BLUE.  This was considered the tipping point in AI advancement, due to the (incorrect) assumption that chess is the prime indicator of human intelligence (in spite of the fact that many grandmasters are little children who know next to nothing about life in general,  and that illiterate, homeless players are often virtuosos). It's chilling to know that it has become an accepted routine that computers beat grandmasters on a daily basis. Jump forward one hundred years,  when robotics and satellite tech has advanced to beyond current imagination,  with computers/robots linked worldwide,  faster and stronger than us,  physically able to perform feats that only comic book superheroes can do,  with brains that can think billions of times faster than the smartest human...we're screwed.

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Kasparov VS Deep Blue
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Nomads of the North (1920) A James Oliver Curwood Mountie Silent!

4/14/2017

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This is the first silent film Mountie review on Phantom Empires,  I'm pleased to report.  There are apparently quite a number of these,  but sadly,  most of the Mountie-themed silents are now lost.  Such a crime.  When I think of how many silent films are lost in general,  it creates a hard knot in my guts that lasts for days.  The greatest artistic loss in modern history, in my opinion.  I'm profusely glad, and extremely grateful for the silents that survive for us all to enjoy and learn from.

NOMADS OF THE NORTH is a 1920 adaptation,  produced and with a script written by the man himself,  of James Oliver Curwood's fan-tastic novel of the same name.  For them that are unaware,  Curwood is to the Mountie novel what Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett are to the Private Eye tale;  his stories evoke the frozen north quite as well as anything that Jack London ever put to paper,  but without the accompanying fame.  Tragic.  Philip Steele of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police, Flaming Forest, Honor of the Big Snows, & Valley of the Silent Men are some of his other excellent Mountie titles.  I particularly enjoy the first on that list.  Full of adventure and action, which is what we all enjoy,  wot?

This is a wonderful film,  and a clean, decent adaptation of the novel (with minor omissions and changes).  It deals with a commercial town in the wild north called Fort O'God (yep, O'God),  run by the stern Duncan McDougall,  the factor of the Hudson's Bay Company..."a tiger of the old regime, still ruling his primitive domain with a hand of iron and a heart of stone".  McDougall's son,  the slimy Bucky McDougall, "A serpent polished with the veneer of years spent in Montreal, the deadliest and most treacherous of all the McDougal race",  is in love with the lovely local flower Nanette Roland (played by Betty Blythe),  who is unavailable,  waiting for her lover, Raoul Challoner (played by the miraculous Lon Chaney) to return from the wild...but is a year overdue.  With a little unethical convincing,  though, Nanette is convinced to marry Bucky, and in a moment of ironic chance,  the long-gone Raoul makes his appearance at the wedding.  Bucky is outraged,  fearing the loss of his long-awaited prize, and in the ensuing fight,  his seedy underling Marat is mistakenly killed by Raoul, which sends him on the run.

It becomes the duty of the stalwart Corporal Michael O'Connor of the R.N.W.M. Police (played by Lewis S. Stone, who is most well known to me as Judge Hardy in the Andy Hardy films) to hunt Raoul down and to bring him to judgement!

This was an amazingly pleasant adventure.  The acting really opened up that wonderful feeling of narrative space common to most of the best silents,  and even between the inter-titles the story stayed even and fresh.  The story was clear from beginning to end,  which isn't always certain from silents from this early date.  James Oliver Curwood's involvement was,  I'm sure,  the reason for this;  a master of a strong streamlined plot.  Typical of early silents,  it had that wonderfully stagey melodramatic flair (which always reminds me of  THE PERILS OF PAULINE, for some reason),  with all those (sometimes amusingly) unambiguous and simple facial expressions that make the emotions of each character quite certain.

I recommend this for silent film fans.  Though it might not be the best to begin your silent film journey with this one,  it's good enough that you'll still enjoy it with no background in the silent art.  The Mountie content is plentiful, too.  Lewis S. Stone really projects all the fairness and devotion that one has come to expect from the classic Mountie myth.

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What, another list?!?  15 great films, in the post-1979  wasteland!

8/2/2016

2 Comments

 
As I usually write about what some call “classic' films, I'll begin by explaining why this list needs to be. 1) It doesn't, as lists like this are silly, but I'm having fun with them right now. 2) I have a deep prejudice against most anything made post-1979. That's about the extent of things as they stand. So, I challenged myself to find films after that cutoff that I really think are either exceptional or very enjoyable to me. It's easy to come up with a stellar list of, say, 60's films, or 70's films, but I've found it difficult to come up with a list of movies that I find more than just fun, but exceptional.

Here we go; fifteen films, from last to the first:


15) Groundhog Day (1993) Ha! Didn't expect this one, right? Well, I've not seen another comedy-drama that touches me as deeply as this one, while still being both amusing and seriously funy. Plus, I'm a sucker for stories of time; time travel, eternal life, alternate dimensions, etc. The time loop story is a sub-genre that is both rare and delightful. I'm not a real Bill Murray fan (or a comedy fan in general), but this is really great.

14) ET, The Extra-Terrestrial (2982) Spielberg. What happened to that guy? His early career was so powerhouse in nature and so credible to it's core. ET is both a charming children's story and a fantastic tale of science fiction. It balances real science fiction ideas with the manic interactions of the kids, in a delicate alchemy of wonder and joy. This film would be ruined if made today, I'm certain.

13) The Fellowship of the Rings (2001) I lived to see this one! In 1998 I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and the first thing that I thought of was, “what am I gonna miss when I die?”. Well, this was on that list, even though I had no idea that it was in the works. I've been waiting on it forever! I really do love this one. At that point I'd read the books pretty much every year since I was seven years old, and this was like seeing my best friends brought to life! While I was disappointed by the following two adaptations, the extended cut of this one is epic.

12) Watchmen (2009) Superhero films are an uneven thing. In my 48 years there have only been a handful that are worth mentioning, beyond the sphere of cheapo fun. Watchmen is, in my view, the best of them all. Based on the series by the comic book genius Alan Moore, it is both a superhero story and a gruesome tale of alternate reality. I enjoy it's mix of realism and comic book colour, with an almost serial killer vibe throughout. Fantastic storytelling.

11) The Bourne Identity (2002) This is one of those films that alter the fabric of it's genre by it's mere existence. Previously, the spy film, was almost universally silly, with some helmet-haired cheeseball using silly gadgets and shagging a long list of hideous harlots, with fights that consist of wide punches that never fail to miss, no matter how awkwardly performed. Bourne changed all that. Matt Damon is short and not at all goofy, with a deep intensity and clear approach. The fights are tight and realistic, and the script is believable and well written. It has had an effect on the fights of the James Bond films, even as it has made them seem even more ridiculous.

10) Eternal Sunshine of the spotless Mind (2004) Anyone who has loved and lost will find something here. A tale of love and memory, it speaks to the gap in one's heart after the love is gone, but the memories live on. So touching. There's a surreality here that is so well done, yet all of the basic ideas ring so very deeply true.

9) Being John Malkovich (1999) Speaking of Surreal, here's perhaps the king of all mainstream films along that line. Incredibly creative and postmodern, it involves our real world weaved into a crazed alternate universe of dark humour and surprising emotional depth. It also manages to be quite poignant, using these odd themes to say quite a bit about human nature. For a weird comedy, that's pretty good.

8) The Village (2004) I'm not generally a fan of M. Night Shyamalan's films, but this one hits many of my sweet spots. Really, it was his generally subdues style and lack of overblown political correctness that makes this works so well. It has such a great combination of horror and and an almost Puritan vibe that really appeals to me in so many different ways, and it manages to have a wonderful collection of “strong women” that are both strong and also quite inspiring, without seeming like overbearing social engineering. This is a subtle story of love and deception that has a special spot in my heart.

7) District 9 (2009) This is, without a doubt, the best science fiction film of modern times. Very, very human and soaked in realism, this amazing film, set in South Africa, has restored in me the idea that nearly perfect movies can still be made. With a wicked script and a beautifully directed vision, the mix of alien life with a (to me) little-known African setting makes this one worth watching many times over. The best bit here is that the cast is mostly unknown, in a time when everything gets an actor plugged into it from a very short and uninspiring list. The future of science fiction is not hopeless.

6) Silverado (1985) When this film came out, I thought that it might mean that westerns were on their way back. At that time, when a film was well done and became popular, a dozen were made in it's wake along the same lines. Sadly, that didn't happen here. Silverado, while not being the last good western film made, was not at the forefront of a movement...which it should have been. I'm not generally a person that enjoys post-modernism in my cowboy movies, but even with the anachronistic hats and sensitive-90's-man anima, this rises above most of the films of it's time in any genre.

5) Poltergeist (1982) An amazingly well done film, another on this list by Steven Spielberg. For a modern film, this really has the vibe of old school science fiction/horror. I recall an episode of The Twilight Zone, in which a young girl disappears into a hole between two universes, and Poltergeist has some of that energy, bonded to a chilling horror story. It shares some of the sense of wonder that I get from E.T., as well, and the chaos of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I don't know where THIS Spileberg has gone, but we really need him to return and save modern popular film.

4) Goodfellas (1990) How could it be that a 90's film comes even close to The Godfather? I don't know, but not only does Goodfellas approach that legendary classic, I believe that it equals it in every way. The mafia genre is rife with stereotypical junk, making mafiosos into goofy, non-threatening stereotypes, but this one has gone a long way toward reinvigorating their formidable image. Even (and especially) Joe Pesci is quite frightening here, and it really gives us the reason why the Mod was such a feared presence in American history.

3) Aliens (1986) I didn't like this one when it came out, to be honest, but it really has grown on me! How can one not like space marines fighting an army of aliens? While it does have a little conspicuous P.C. Vibe, the greatness and vitality of the story blow me over every time I watch it. I never thought that the original Alien film could be equaled, but it has been by this.

2) Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) Another Spielberg masterpiece! Being a pulp fiction fan, and fan of cliffhanger serials, and with my pith helmet in hand, I can't recommend this movie with any greater energy than I do now. So well-acted, well-written, with a fabulous cast and insanely impressive settings, Raiders of the Lost Ark (NOT Indiana Jones and...) is really a film after my own heart. The sense of adventure of the Boy's Own-type genre oozes from every reel, and it makes my hunger for many others of it's kind. I've seen it literally hundreds of times, and I'll be adding to that number quite soon, I', sure.

1) The Thing (1982) Based on the J.W. Campbell Jr.'s story, Who Goes There?, this sucker is brutal from beginning to the end. I'm a fiend for Horror Science fiction in combo, and this is the ultimate! The creatures are among the most imaginative and well-constructed of any film up to this time. Also, as we lack any credible adaptations of H.P. Lovecraft's cosmic interstellar horror, this stands well to fill that gap. It gets #1 because it is the best of what it does, and it does it's thing, to me, better than any other post-79 film does theirs.



OK,  I'll admit that there are quite a number of good post-79 films, in spite of my general prejudice against the sociopolitical approach of the modern era, with it's conspicuous smugness and seeming disinterest in story over politics.



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My Top Ten Cowboy Stars - Yep, another o' them internet lists...

7/27/2016

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I've found it common on film blogs to make lists, so this year I've done a few, just for the fun of it. Recently I've been watching double my already-prodigious intake of western films (I'm visiting my father, and that's the thing we most have in common), so I started thinking about who I really value in the genre.  There are no big surprise names here. I think that the only real unique thing about it, if there is indeed anything unique, is in the order of the names. I chose who I really quite enjoy the most, as opposed, perhaps, to those that might make a more eclectic combination. I generally think that “top ten” lists place a bit too much of a limitation in a field this wonderful and large, but I'm not writing a book, so, in a bottom to the top countdown, here we go!

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10) John Wayne - Now, if anyone who loves western movies ever cared about what I thought about film in general, they'd probably be pissed off around this moment. To a great many, Wayne is the ne plus ultra of the screen cowboy; the ultimate man's man of the west. Well, I don't disagree with that. The list of great westerns that Wayne has been a major part of are practically chapter and verse western scripture, and he has icon legend status in the hardcore film community.

But I don't like icons.

There's something that has to happen to make an icon that doesn't sit right with me. There's a touch of the caricature in that process, which over time becomes parody; like the “Bogey” phenomenon, or the mild drag queen flair of Marylin Monroe. It starts to bleed into the work over time, and it, for me at least, spoils my enjoyment. Wayne is great, but the silly “duh-huh” comical bar-fighty vibe dims my admiration. He's on my list because he has to be, but he's not at the top.

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9) Tim McCoy – An actual cowboy who became a screen cowboy, Tim McCoy was quite a fellow. A veteran of both WWI and WWII, he grew up wrangling cattle and interacting with the native American tribes in his area. All of these things are the spine upon which the body of his work rests, and it's that which makes him so wonderful to watch. McCoy was very native-friendly, and he did his best to populate his films with actual natives. To me that says a lot about the man behind the actor.

On top of that, his films are great! Tall, long in the face and with sharp, eagle-type eyes, his version of the cowboy has a bit more of the dusty trail than most. There's a real cowboy behind that movie man, and it works to his advantage; in an era that includes so many famous faces, Tim McCoy has certainly come by his spot honestly.

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8) Johnny Mack Brown – He has really risen in my estimation over the years. At one time I bundled him in with the mass of still-great but 2nd-string, 60-minute, 30's-type cowboys (like Bob Custer and Ken Maynard), but I've come to be a big fan! The thing that strikes me about JMB is that he's eminently watchable. When he's on the screen, his gravitas is captivating, and even if the film is average, I come away feeling. “Gee, that was a great movie!”. There aren't that many actors like that, who can get by on charm alone.

Toss in a warm delivery and a palatable level of control and confidence, and you get the kind of western that is really quite thrilling and fun to watch.

I'm always excited to find a "new" Johnny Mack Brown picture!

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7) Buck Jones – Buck Jones is a name that is nearly interchangeable with the term “cowboy star”. People who have never seen a 30's western still know who he is, and, along with men like Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers, he'll be known until the end of time.

To me, he's the pre-”John Wayne” John Wayne. He was big, tough, rugged, and all the other manly superlatives that one normally associates with the Duke, but with that sort of dime-novel/pulp fiction vibe that made those early westerns so worth watching. He certainly was a tough character; I watch a Buck Jones western waiting eagerly for Buck to pop some scoundrel in the jaw, gun them down in a showdown, or chase them down in the obligatory horse scene, dispensing Justice as well as any screen cowboy. Buck, more than any actor other than Tom Mix, is the emblem of that age; his is the name that jumps out each time that I think of those days.


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6) William Boyd  – Who doesn't like Hopalong Cassidy? Nobody, that's who! Well, there might be a few, but I don't want to know if they exist. Boyd is like archetypal favourite uncle, but with spurs and six-guns; when he walks into the room, you can mildly detect a genuflection in even the hardest of bad guys. From that moment any possible ruckus has it's lifespan on a short timer.

Trained in the era of silent film, William Boyd is skilled in acting with his presence alone. If you watch him stand, or turn, how he tilts his head, and the way he glances across the room, you can see very subtle expression in even the most meager of cowboy genre pictures. If one wants to understand him as a cowboy star, then watching his non-western silents will really open the eyes.

William Boyd is the man!

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5) Audie Murphy – War hero and cowboy star! I have to admit that Murphy is an unlikely legend. He's short, sleight of build, plain spoken, and generally unimposing. The magic of him is that, in reality, he was one of the most decorated soldiers in WWII; when you watch his films, and that knowledge informs your expectations of his characters. Think about his classic role in DESTRY. Destry is a lawman that doesn't carry guns, drinks milk, and doesn't mind letting people talk smack to him, but as things progress, the reality of the man begins to grind away at the first impression. That says much about Murphy himself, and shows that being big and wild isn't the only way to be a top gunslinger!

Audie Murphy:   mild-mannered titan.


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4) Tom Mix – How can one not love a cowboy star who is so good that he can pull off calling his horse “Tony”? Yet nobody blinks an eye at what should be cheesy, especially me; Tony is just as credible as Trigger or Silver, in spite of sharing a name in common with a number of New York wise guys!

That's the Tom Mix anima; pretty much everything he touched is pure gold. Manly and tall, with a cool brow and an easy strength, Mix is one of those guys that, when he walks into a room with a dozen gunfighters, with square shoulders and a mild smile, you believe that it's all going to be A-OK.

Tom Mix is just plain great...when I think of the huge percentage of his 200+ films that are lost, it really burns my eyes.

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3) James Stewart – You may notice that I use his full name here; when it comes to his westerns, the diminutive “Jimmy” doesn't apply. The James Stewart with the six-gun isn't the much-beloved stuttering nice guy of the legendary IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE; he burns with a fire on a level of which most actors can only dream. He's mean, too! He's so oft associated with “nice”, that, though I've been his cowboy movies most of my life, I find my sub-dominant thought narrative mildly shocked when he subverts that expectation.

I like that someone like Stewart can pull off “rugged” as well as he does his more well-expected persona. To me it calls B.S. on those who refer to people like, say, Tom Hanks, as “the new Jimmy Stewart”.

James Stewart well deserves his spot in the film history books and certainly on this humble list.

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2) Gregory Peck – How can a guy that looks like a lawyer and sounds like Walter Cronkite be one of the best cowboy actors that ever lived? Well, don't ask me, but it's 100% true. From the easy-going sea captain in THE BIG COUNTRY, to the aging tracker in THE STALKING MOON, and to the stern gunfighter in YELLOW SKY, Peck pounds his stamp deeper and deeper into the bedrock of the western genre with every role. Not only that, he's one of the best actors in Hollywood, which fleshes out even script-flat characters to an amazing degree.   What I enjoy the most about Peck is that, whatever the reality,  he seems like a very good and thoughtful man.   I've noticed that when he's speaking his lines he seems to have an actual inner dialogue about the situation that his character is in, and he reflects the scene perfectly in each movement of his brow.

Peck is brilliant, 100% of the time.

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1) Alan Ladd – Alan Ladd is my pick for top cowboy actor, hands down. It isn't necessarily because the 1953 classic SHANE is my favourite western, or that his 1950 masterpiece BRANDED is in my top ten cowboy pictures of all time. I pick Ladd because he's just plain tough. There's a bit in BRANDED that goes thus:

Woman: what's your name?

Ladd: They call me Choya.

Woman: That's Spanish for “cactus”; why do they call you that?

Ladd: Ever try to pick one?


That spells Ladd's cowboy out perfectly. He moves like a solid, well-oiled machine, and when he draws a weapon, it's amazing. Such speed and tight reflexes. Witness the scene in SHANE when the little boy startles him; Ladd spins around faster than most actors can think! Take that and the mass fistfight in BRANDED, add that to a credible Spartan attitude and an incredible posture on horseback, with deep intensity and a real humanity, and you have a western winner, in my book. He's another that looks like a city boy (I think of him as Phillip Marlowe with a colt .45), but reads like a cowhand all the way. Incredible!

End of list!

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Well, now that the list is finished, I want to give an honorable mention to Clint Eastwood. If this were a list of eleven actors, he would certainly have been on it. HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER is, to me, one of the greatest possible westerns, and there is nobody else in any genre who can pull off dangerous, wild, and quite possibly evil in the way that he can, while still delivering an overwhelming sense of relief and safety. He is the embodiment of the “new” western hero (anything after 1960 is new, in my book), full of all the irony of the post-50's era, but with every bit of the greatness and fullness of the classic artists. Clint is the epitome of the post-modern cowboy, to be sure, and if the bulk of my tastes were more recent in nature, he would be the absolute king of the cowboys.

One day I'll make a “top eleven-to-twenty” list, which could be very fun, and would probably be much more difficult! Until that time, if anyone wants to call me crazy, or call me deluded for leaving out their faves, or for not giving their guy his due, feel free to comment.

As a crazy person myself, I love to hear a good cowboy-oriented rant.

Draw, varmints!



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The Prisoner of Shark Island (1936)

6/10/2016

2 Comments

 
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I'm a bit of a history buff.  I love times past, the pathways of human endeavour and all that sort of thing, to a degree that one might describe as pathological.  Seriously. If one were to calculate how much time I've spent fantasizing about having a time machine,  I think the result may not be a flattering one. So,  it should go without saying that I love historical films. The Prisoner of Shark Island is such a film,  and quite right up my alley.

Loosely based on real events, the setting is the immediate end of the war between the states.  Lincoln and his people have kept the union intact, while also shattering the slavery tradition in the south forever (one certainly hopes). In retaliation, Lincoln is assassinated by John Wilkes Boothe; our film begins in this way. Boothe, as we know,  was injured in his escape, and he and his co-conspirator are trying to make their getaway with him in this condition, on horseback, at 5a.m., in torrential rain.  

Not a good omen, certainly!

They find their way to the home of a southern doctor, Dr. Samuel Mudd,  played by Warner Baxter. Dr. Mudd is a character that wouldn't get much play these days,  as he was a slave owner and a southerner,  but, as presented, was a fair and decent chap.  In this spirit he fixes Boothe's leg, and Boothe goes off into the night...but the identity of Lincoln's assassin was not known to the doctor.  later that day Boothe's pursuers arrive,  and they arrest him, the fervor of righteous justice blinding them to his innocence.

His trial goes in a similar fashion.  The nation had no sympathy for supporters of the assassination at that time,  and in reality, a number of regular people were lynched across the country for expressing that view. Although he escaped the hanging that was the punisment of the direct conspirators, the doctor is put into a brutal prison on an island in the Dry Tortugas (off the tip of Florida, now a national park), plagued by the prerequisite dastardly guard (played so well by John Carradine), consumed by that doomed feeling that would certainly accompany such an injustice. It will be his own dignity and medical knowledge that will help him to survive.

Will his lovely wife find a way to get him released,  or will he have to find his own escape?

I loved this film.  Warner Baxter was so incredibly multi-layered,  and I'm more and more becoming a fan of his stuff.  He's very good in this; he's both noble and irritable, and the fact that he was a slave holder and a confederate don't dull my sympathy for his character. After watching him as the Cisco Kid relatively recently (reviewed HERE), as well as his turn in the Crime Doctor series, he has become one of those names that I'm starting to keep an eye out for, more and more. John Carradine was also great in this,  being his usual dastardly self, and yet his humanity was not at all in question throughout.  The rest of the cast was quite fine,  and the direction and staging was perfect and precise;  everything was worth looking at,  and the story had no fluff or flab. One can attribute these qualities to the sure hand of director John Ford, who consistently amazes me with his projects.

The 1930's. For so long they've been seen as the imperfect precursor to the 40's;  that primitive period between the golden decade of silent film,  and the perfected era during WWII.  I so disagree. The 30's were a great and wild time, full of imagination and zip! The pulp fiction vibe, the radio drama vibe, tinges of classic novels,  with silent-era colour and drama. The Prisoner of Shark Island has all that and more. 

For an added bonus,  Dr. Mudd was played on the radio by Gary Cooper in Lux Radio Theater's production of the story.  It's highly enjoyable, and just as well produced.  It has the interesting addition of the then-elderly daughter of the real Samuel Mudd, sharing an anecdote of her father's life.   Both the film and the otr audio are well worth seeking out, in both cases!

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Edith Hunter of THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COLONEL BLIMP

6/7/2016

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Every once in a while some film fan will regale me with some tale o' love and obsession with some film star or character,  insisting upon their true feeelings for them;  they collect all their photos,  they watch that one special film over and over, etc..  Well,  being a diehard pragmatist and, quite possibly, a harmless type of sociopath,  I've never been able to share that exact feeling.  Oh,  I can be obsessed with an actor,  a film,  even posters well enough,  but to fall in love with an imaginary film character has always been a bit beyond the pale for Clayton Percival Somerset Walter.

Then,  I met...HER.  THE woman, Watson,  THE woman.  Played so very skillfully by the awesome Deborah Kerr in my new ultimate film,  THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COLONEL BLIMP,  I have found a cinema woman, though imaginary, who embodies all that I've ever sought in a lady-type creature of the opposite sex.   Now, although she has all the appropriate gentleman-approved dimensions and accoutrements in pleasant proportion, quite ship-shape and in Bristol fashion (Kerr was 21 when she transformed herself thus),  it is the addition of the traditionally lady-preferred qualities that sends her into my internal stratosphere so  dramatically and dreamily.  The words from this beloved woman's mouth!  So articulate,  so intelligent!  One could give credit to the writers of the script, the dynamic duo of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger,  but it really is the young Deborah Kerr who gives the erudition and staccato diction to these lines.  Her delivery is so mature, so developed,  and there's an honesty and command of situation here that few (if any) actresses can pull off...but perhaps my love has me biased?  Possibly,  but probably not.

Edith Hunter is what certain kinds of women like to call "strong".  She's untra-confident,  doesn't back down when faced with a conflict,  she observes and reflects,  and she has an understanding of life and her environment that is enviable.  I appreciate all of these thing,  and I also appreciate that she can be thus without also being overbearing, rude,  pushy, and insulting,  qualities which have become so common in female characters when they want to compete with men...dear Edith manifests all of the ideal qualities of strength and eschews all of the negatives.  She's sharp, witty, dignified, in control of herself,  and OH, SO LUVERLY.  The fact that she's fluent in German (which, for perhaps the first time in human history, sounds incredibly sexy),  is familiar with Burschenschaften culture (with the accompanying Mensur fencing tradition,  an interest of mine),  is involved in the issues of the poorly handled Boer war enough to write to our stalwart Lieutenant Clive Candy VC, really makes her the sort of  lady for which a true gentleman ought to possess a great admiration!

Ahem.

When I get my time machine, with it's cinema-universe attachment,  I'm going to go back into time and cross over into Colonel Blimp land; I swear that I'll go to Germany and meet with her,  and quite possibly on bended knee.  That damnably handsome Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff will simply have to bow to a superior affection!



[Added note:  The other people in the film are GREAT too, and the non-Edith Hunter bits are nice as well, so if you're tempted to only watch her portion (like I do sometimes),  you might like to watch the rest...at least once.]

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This paean to my lady of loveliness is occaisioned by the  REEL INFATUATION blogathon,  hosted by FONT & FROCK and the inimitabl SILVER SCREENINGS.  Please click on there names here to visit their sites,  and to see who is is love with whom,  and though none of their secret dears  could possibly be anywhere near my one true love,  it's good to see why others might choose someone who is so non-Edith Hunter.

For curiosity's sake,  if nothing else.  :)

Addendum:  Much of the basic premise of COLONEL BLIMP speaks to the effect that a woman can have on a man;  how even a casual connection may linger for a lifetime.  I've had many conversations with men in which they've recounted encounters, seemingly trivial to the outsider (such as a brush-up against the shoulder of a crush in passing during a break between 7th grade classes), which are recalled from time to time as a treasured experience.  Men are more emotional than society often allows,  and once written upon,  a man's heart carries a feeling to the end of his days...to one degree or another.

I've even had my own Edith Hunter,  which I bungled,  much as Clive Candy did,  and her intoxicating anima haunts me to this very moment,  nearly fifteen years after the fact.  I can only imagine how devastated I would be if I were Mr. Candy,  dazedly watching   as  a woman as amazing as Edith Hunter drifted away right in front of my eyes,  never to be seen again.

From Men in Black:

Jay: You know what they say. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Kay: Try it.
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Western legends on the Iron Horse!

5/28/2016

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PictureHoss on a mini!
I'm a big fan of westerns,  from epics like THE BIG COUNTRY with Gregory Peck,  to b-reel programmers like RAWHIDE,  with the baseball legend Lou Gehrig.  TV westerns also get my vote, as well as comic books, novels, and especially the radio dramas,  with classic pieces of Cowboy art like Jimmy Stewart's THE SIX SHOOTER, the class of John Dehner in FRONTIER GENTLEMAN, and the hard-as-nails action of LUKE SLAUGHTER OF TOMBSTONE.   It's all good to me,  and a significant portion of my entertainment time is spent with these goodies.

I also have a (thus far) unrequited passion for the motorcycle.  I love being on the Iron Horse,  and the freedom that one feels comes across as what I imagine a mounted cowboy on the open range felt like...wild and free.  I have yet to get one,  but I hope too soon. 

That said,  and though these fantastic machines could never replace Trigger, Silver, Tony, or any of the other legendary movie cowboy rides,  I present some images of a few legendary movie cowboys on their second horses:  Buck Jones, John Wayne, Ken Maynard, Tom Mix and Roy Rogers.


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Love Affair (1932)  The Humphrey Bogart Valentine's day coincidence

2/14/2016

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OK.  So whether anyone believes me or not,  last night,  when I decided to do a review of this,  the 1932 Bogart film LOVE AFFAIR,  I didn't realise that it would post on Valentine's day.  Had no clue.  I got to the library (where I get on the web),  and the woman behind the counter wished me a good Valentine's day, and that was that.  Not being much into the concept,  it kicked me in the shin a little,  realising that I was going to, even in a minor way,  contribute to the madness.

Ahem.

That said,  I love this movie!  It's Bogart in his developing form,  a gem in the rough,  with some of the definition and charisma that we know and admire yet to be defined.  Everything is there,  the crooked, charming grin,  the slight world-weariness,  the confidence,  the explosive intensity...just in smaller measures than we've all become accustomed to.  It's early, it's fun,  and it's as splendid as any of these great little 30's pictures that I love so much (maybe not as good as MY MAN GODFREY, but really what film is?).

The plot (basically) goes thusly:  Spunky rich girl Carol Owen (played with the appropriate afore-mentioned spunk by Dorothy Mackaill, known to Phantom Empires from her role in the 1937 BULLDOG DRUMMOND AT BAY),  is a modern girl.  A very modern girl.  An exceptionally, especially for the 30's,  modern girl.  She has bobbed hair,  she smokes cigarettes,  she rips around on a rocketing roadster,  and she's free with her father's dough.  Little does she know she's essentially broke.  She gets the bee in her bonnet to take flying lessons,  so she goes to an airfield,  where she's introduced to the handsome (?) pilot Jim Leonard (Bogart's character, of course).  There are sparks from the get-go.  Jim takes her up in the sky in an open-seat biplane,  and to test her spunkiness, he flips the thing upside down a few times,  asking her "how you doing?",  all the while with a dastardly grin on his highly amused mug.  Well,  she reciprocates with a high speed (for the 30's, anyway) drive back to town, zipping in between speeding vehicles, asking him the same bemused questions.  It's fun.  Jim is a man with potential,  and with his design for a revolutionary new motor,  he hopes to strike it rich and to fiscally deserve this fiery socialite.

Love ensues...with complications.

If I were going to make the conscious choice to support a silly holiday,  this is a film that would make me happy to do so.  It has a good combination of lightness and drama,  as well as a good bland of innocence and brassy modernity.  In these times this sort of almost childish wildness could be looked upon as naive (considering the extremes that we've come to,  but here it comes off as a combo of awkwardly conspicuous and fresh freedom...which is usually how these things tend to be in life.  It was a crisp little story with some nice turns.  The plot didn't try too much (which is good for these roughly 70 minute pictures),  and the writing ranged from serviceable to charmingly sparky.  It was good for both Bogart lovers,  lovers of the 1930's (and 20's, actually...it had the same spirit),  and also lovers of love!

Bogart...such a unique actor.

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Hollywood plays Chess!

2/10/2016

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It's pretty often that two or more of my interests cross paths;  I do have a ton of hobbies and such-like,  and I love it when they cross-pollinate.  Obviously I enjoy movies,  and chess,  a relatively recent obsession,  seem to be common bedfellows.   One sees chess and chess paraphernalia in movies literally ALL THE TIME.  In historical dramas it's meant to imply nobility,  in westerns we're to understand that either the bad guy or the main gunslinger is a cut above the rest,  and in detective stories,  it shows us that our man can see through whatever canard the villain has cooked up.  That said,  it's also the actors in their private lives that play the game;  not only does Rick play chess at his Cafe' Americain,  but so too does Bogart...and from all the indications, quite often.

Here are just a few great photos of the stars 'duking' it out...including the Duke himself!
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Under Two Flags (1936)  Happy Birthday, Ronald Colman!

2/9/2016

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I did a review of the fantastic Foreign Legion film WE'RE IN THE LEGION NOW (HERE) a while back,  and it was so fun that I thought I'd do another one.  Today being Ronald Colman's birthday,  it seemed like a good 'two-bird + stone' choice to take a look at the incredibly fun and well-cast UNDER TWO FLAGS,  where Colman shares the screen with the burly Victor McLaglen and the two lovely actresses, Claudette Colbert and Rosalind Russell.  I'm (like most thinking people) a huge fan of Ronald,  a fan of Foreign Legion stories (also of Colman's silent legion masterpiece BEAU GESTE) and it's his birthday,  thus, is a great excuse to write!

UNDER TWO FLAGS is a 1936 production,  based on the novel of the same name by English writer Maria Ramé,  known by her nom de plume Ouida.  Ouida was a great writer of adventure novels,  many of them Orientalist swashbucklers,  and UNDER TWO FLAGS is quite that.  It shares it's fame with her wonderful 1872 novel,  A DOG OF FLANDERS.  UNDER TWO FLAGS is without a doubt her most famous novel,  having been produced as a stage play,  and four film adaptations, in 1912, 1916 (featuring the smouldering 'vamp' Theda Bara), 1922, and this Colman version.  I've read the novel in one of my several Ouida bursts,  and it's a wonderfully written and colourful taste of pre-pulp pulp fiction.

In the film Victor (in the novel Bertie Cecil) honourably takes the rap for a crime actually committed by his brother.  He takes off in a dash,  joining up and becoming a sergeant in the French Foreign Legion.   Dapper and handsome,  Victor attracts the attentions and affections of the pixie-like French barmaid "Cigarette" played with almost punky spunk by Colbert.  Sadly for Cigarette,  Victor only has eyes for the luminous aristocrat Lady Venetia,  played by Rosalind Russell.  Well,  this doesn't sit well with Sgt. Victor's commander, Victor McLaglen's Major J.C. Doyle.  The gruff Doyle is unrequitedly smitten with the impish Cigarette,  and this puts him and our debonair Sergeant on the opposite sides of a potentially dangerous divide.

Will this love triangle doom the Legion in the face of an onslaught of fierce Arab tribesmen?!?

This was an amazingly pleasurable experience.  Colman (looking quite a bit like Michael Kitchen at times) was at his best here,  with a glint in his eye and exuding charm in every frame.  Colbert was lovely,  and though she came across as mildly irritating initially,   I had the  appropriate fondness for Cigarette by the end of the film.  Victor McLaglen was both 'charging-bullish' and charming,  looking quite the big brute in this one,  and Rosalind Russell was every bit the beautiful lady.  Also in the cast was Fritz Leiber Sr. (father of the sci fi writer),   Thomas Beck (from a number of Charlie Chan and Mr. Moto films),  Nigel Bruce, Gregory Ratoff (director of the 1960 OSCAR WILDE), Herbert Mundin ('Much' from Errol Flynn's THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD), and John Carradine.  With a  crisp script and a great cast,  and with solid  direction by Frank Lloyd (THE LAST COMMAND and BLOOD ON THE SUN),  it's a rollickin' good time.  The 1930's had so many of this kind of exuberant adventure,  and the more I see, the more I love this wonderful decade.  Also,  I'm a fan of this sort of Orientalist adventure,  and this is another in my effort to document these 'wild, wild East'-type movies.

It's a perfect thing to celebrate Ronald Colman's birthday!

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Take a Hard Ride (1975)

2/8/2016

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There are differing philosophies regarding what makes something good.  Some contend that if one enjoys something, then it is good, regardless of quality, while others believe that a terribly made thing is terrible no matter what, and others can't enjoy something unless it's absolutely bad...the dreaded "kitsch" approach.  I'm of a mixed mindset;  to me, there are several opposing ways to define good...and bad.

From one perspective, TAKE A HARD RIDE is not good.  The story is dumb, the acting and script are uneven,  the direction...wait, was there direction?  Barely.  Lee Van Cleef wasn't at his best,  Jim Brown and Fred Williamson seemed out of place, and Jim Kelly...was a mute Karate Indian.  You get the idea.   I honestly should have hated it.

But I didn't!   I love those guys!  I really could have cared less what they were doing,  or what they were saying,  I just wanted to watch some of my personal favourite dudes shooting up stuff,  punching people,  saying crazy things, doing Karate, throwing knives, and blowing things up!  It was a total blast from beginning to end, in spite of being terrible.  It was something that could only have this kind of magic in Spaghetti land;  the awful and absurd somehow become mythic and invigorating, without being looked at in a kitschy or ironic way.   When it was over I had a fun movie experience, enjoying myself more than I have during many a better-made movie.

Part of the fun of it was the cameo-appearance quality of the whole thing; as if the actors were appearing in someone's else's movie,  but the someone else never showed up!  It sounds awful,  right?  But it's that casual, phone-it-in quality that seems to free the guys to let loose and have some fun.  Where more serious actors may have let us down,  our guys decided to throw a wild cowboy action party, and we are their guests!

If you like Lee Van Cleef,  Jim Brown, Fred Williamson & Jim Kelly (not to mention Dana Andrews, Barry Sullivan & Harry Carey jr.), and want to see them running around acting badass and having fun, then I can't recommend TAKE A HARD RIDE enough.

If you don't,  I think you should put down the dvd and walk away...for your own good.


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A Yank in Libya (1942)

2/8/2016

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"I say,  Mr. Malone,  in this country, Allah is more important than a headline"

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Synopsis: A YANK IN LIBYA begins with a chase. A wise-cracking, hard-fisted American reporter, Mike Malone (played by Walter Woolf King), dressed in Arab garb, is being chased by armed Arabs through a crowded souk in British-controlled Libya. In his hands is a sophisticated rifle of German make; he had stolen it as proof of a suspected connection between the Nazis and a fanatical nationalist element in the Arab tribes. Sneaking into the hotel room of a western woman, the lovely and whip-smart Nancy (played by the charming Joan Woodbury, known to Phantom Empires for her role in the Mountie classic, NORTHWEST TRAIL), he doffs his local gear, entreats her to hide the rifle for him, and then he climbs out the window. He heads for the British consulate to warn them of the Nazi plan to foment rebellion in the region. Unfortunately, the doddering consul rebuffs him, considering him somewhat mad (to which Malone brazenly dons the consul's pith helmet and saunters away with it, followed by much protest). Frustrated, Malone contacts his British Intelligence pal, the stalwart, pipe-smoking Phillip Brooks-Grahame, in an attempt to further his main goal...to get that story!

Following several leads, Malone discovers the presence of a Nazi named Yusef Streyter, disguised as a Czech merchant. Streyter has his diabolical hooks in the power-mad Ibrahim, the second-in-command of the righteous Sheikh David (played charmingly by Duncan Reynaldo, the actor best known for playing the Mexican hero the Cisco Kid on TV and radio. Incidentally, the director here, Albert Herman, ended up directing Reynaldo on the Cisco Kid TV series). The devious Nazi, of course, working to convince Ibrahim to back-stab his leader and take control. Malone gets wind of this scheme and enlists friend Philip in the great game. In the process, Malone meets a Brooklyn-born grifter in the form of Parkyarkarkas (generally spelled "Parkyakarkas", the extra "r" added in the credits of this film, was the real life pseudonym of Jewish radio comedian Harry Einstein, known for his work on the Eddie Cantor show and his own radio comedy, MEET ME AT PARKY'S. He is the father of both Super Dave Osborne and Albert Brooks), living undercover as the slapstick "Arab" razor-salesman/horse thief, "Suleiman Abdullah Hasan ben Stinko ben broke...also ben Eastside, ben Westside, ben all over". He's a big cartoon of a man, but a sly one...a man of many secrets. Surprisingly, Parkyarkarkas becomes not only a sidekick, but a valuable ally in the story.

Thus the action begins!


As a long-time Muslim convert, I have an interesting relationship to this type of orientalist plot. I grew up on a farm in rural Washington state, and the rest of the world seemed like a distant fantasy. Things like the great wall of China and the Kaba in Mecca might as well have been on the moon to folks in my area, and people like desert bedouins or African pygmies were generally categorised as "people that I will never meet". My first exposure to anything Islam-related was at the ripe old age of eight. It was a record titled THE SOUNDS OF ARABIA, which my mom let me buy from the Salvation Army (with a pile of other cheap LPs), in an attempt to circumvent my interest away from her own record collection. It had some Arabic music, some recordings of street scenes, the Adhan (the Islamic call to prayer), and, most importantly, it turned out, the first surah (chapter) of the holy Qur'an, Al Fatiha.

I was transfixed.

I listened to that record over and over, and with the transliteration I learned (sort of) how to recite along with it. I had no idea what it was, but I knew that it was me, and I was it. A couple years later I got a National Geographic magazine about Mecca (Nov. 1978, I believe), which had Muslims circling the Kaba. I told my mom, "I want to do that". From then on, I was on a lifelong path to what I have now; the most inner peace that I have ever known. Along the way I watched movies. I read comic books. I saw cartoons, I listened to radio shows. In all of these things were many western-centric tales of the "mystical East", with manly, stiff-upper-lipped white men braving the dangers of foreign lands. They were like orientalist cowboy movies. I was in the odd position of both admiring the (usually British) hero, and rooting for the Arab, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Afghan, & generic stereotyped orientals. Though one could make a credible argument that these things are deeply racist at their core, and this kind of thing really has no relation to Islam at all (there are actually fewer Muslims in the Arab counties than in, say, Indonesia), I'm still a little soft for them.

In the remote past, these were blurry windows into my heart, and eventually my future.

That said, I thoroughly enjoyed A YANK IN LIBYA, and though it had a great many stereotypical elements (common to B-type pictures, whatever the subject), it wasn't thoroughly off the deep end. In a way, this one was a cut above many that I've seen. It had a pretty snappy script (Malone: "The greatest story I ever tripped over in my life, and she tries to fizzle it right in my kisser"), and some shockingly sympathetic views, although admittedly tempered with liberal doses of neo-Victorian paternalism.

A few cases in point are in order.

For the Arab tribes in the film, under the thumb of the British, it was implied that their disaffection and chafing at this yoke was justifiable. It seemed understood that this was the kind of situation that could make them vulnerable to manipulation from the outside, using a more zealous minority to stir up the already heated emotions of the locals. The leader, Sheikh David, is considered righteous and fair, and in this film, the Arabs have to be tricked, and behind the back of this pious and fair Muslim! He even courts the white woman, to which nobody (including the lady herself), even bats an eye! Relative to expectation, the writers give him a SHOCKINGLY open-minded monologue in an appreciated, but ultimately failed attempt to convince her into matrimony:

"Are we not true believers? Is not your prophet, as well as my prophet, just and righteous? Are we not supposed to learn piety and humbleness out of good books, your Bible and my Quran? Nancy, so differently expressed, our philosophies of life are fundamentally identical."

It's quite a statement for a film from the Evangelical fundamentalist America of WWII.

Of course, there are the usual awkwardly stiff themes for these things. There's the exotic, "sexually generous" belly dancer, the wild-eyed Arab, and all sorts of silly exclamations and oaths: "By the beard of the prophet" (P.B.U.H.) is a common one, and things like, "Unbelieving dog! may your father never cease his barking!". Yep, silly. Also, in the end, once the Nazi and his tribal minion are put down, the "good" Arab shows how "good" he is by surrendering the German guns, gratefully and happily re-submitting to the "benevolent" British yoke. From a historical perspective, it's LAWRENCE OF ARABIA in pulp fiction form, with the noble British conspiring to hold onto Arab lands, using whatever means necessary to keep things under control, including espionage.

For their own good, old chap, wot?.

In 1942 there were a mere few years to Indian independence, and the war would weaken England to a point where the empire would soon die, leaving all these previously conquered lands without a modern history of independent governance. What we see in these regions today is a direct result of this irresponsible abandonment, with the extreme elements, just as in this film, left to ravage their lands unchecked, leading to the unchallenged establishment of bought-and-paid-for dictatorships across the so-called "east".


It's a clear truth, currently much ignored.

From a literary vantage point, A YANK IN LIBYA is pure John Buchan. Buchan's 1916 novel GREENMANTLE is very much this story, with hero Richard Hannay also trying to prevent the Germans (during WWI) from whipping the Arabs into revolt. Malone's pal Phillip has a doppelganger in the book, in the form of Hannay's own pal, the adventurer Sandy Arbuthnot. I imagine this movie as a sort of cliffhanger serial version of a Buchan adventure, but spliced into one tight, action-packed narrative. As a voracious reader of pulps, and a study of this sort of thing, I was pleased with the overall product. It was good-humoured, serious when it needed to be, with an above-average script for a programmer. The acting was solid and lively, as well. The baddies were appropriately bad, the good guys were dashing and brave, and the newsman Mike Malone was exactly as cynical and "reporter-ish" as he ought to have been.


With good pulp scenery and a sense of the mythical "exotic East", it's a really fun adventure! The cast is very colourful, and I honestly wish they had made more of this kind of thing together.

Notes:

Arabic use: Minimal, limited to a few terms, including "assalaamu alaykum", and its response, "wa laykum Salaam". Though these were (surprisingly) properly used and pronounced, others, such as the term "Sheikh" was not; everyone, including the "Arab" characters, pronounced it "Sheek", instead of the proper "Shey-kh". Not a big deal, as that's still a common mispronunciation. There is only the occasional written Arabic, but it's complete gibberish, written by the studio art department, "in the style of".

Music: Though an actual Arabic band is shown onscreen, the music is the typical nonsense "middle-eastern" gobbledygook, with "clop-clop" wooden block sounds imitating camel steps, and "hoochie-koochie"-type flute licks.
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Nine Hours to Rama ~ (1963) The Death of Ghandi

2/3/2016

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I'll start off this review of the 1963 British film 9 HOURS TO RAMA with a caveat of sorts. I have not generally minded, in a general sense anyway, the casting of white people as other races. The farther back you go in American (read: western) film, the more it's to be expected; human culture is made up of humans, and by their very nature, humans are tribalistic...and therefore more inclined to favor their own.  Some of these generally unfortunate casting choices I am quite fond of. Peter Lorre as Mr. Moto is a hero of mine, and Warner Oland in his classic role as Charlie Chan, strangely, is (in my opinion) impossible to improve upon by anyone...regardless of race.

I have to admit, having written that, that Horst Buchholz (a German guy), Jose Ferrer (from Puerto Rico) and Robert Morley as Indian people (especially the extremely British Robert Morley), threw me off at first. Horst had pulled off a Mexican pretty well in THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, but his role here as an Indian guy, initially at least, burned my eyes a bit. I did give it a chance though, as the location and subject matter are dear to me; I've been to Pakistan and India (India as recently as a year ago), and to see a film in this setting is totally my cup of darjeeling.


Based on the 1962 novel by Stanley Wolpert, It's setting is the period of transition from the 200-year yoke of British rule in India to independence, and perhaps tragically, the partition of the northwest into the modern state of Pakistan. Ghandi-ji ("ji", in Hindi and Urdu, is an honorific title of respect added to Indian names) has done his legendary work, and the land is in turmoil. This is basically the story of the end of Ghandi-ji's life, and more specifically, the story of his murderer, the anti-Muslim Hindu nationalist Nathuram Vinayak Godse, energetically played by Horst Buchholz.

Here's a nutshell, non-spoiler synopsis:

It's a period of fear for Ghandi-ji's life at this stage. Superintendant Das, played by Jose Ferrer, is under pressure to keep Ghandi-ji safe; that means interrogations and arrests. On top of that, Ghandi-ji refuses to take added measures to keep himself out of harm's way, which, in his mind, would distance himself from the people. The heat is on, so to speak. Buchholz's character, Nadsuram Godse, is a lost young man without a real purpose in his life; a disappointment to his father, he is looking for meaning wherever he can find it. Unfortunately he lacks the intelligence and self-awareness to get what he wants. His failures are a constant source of frustration to him, until his addled mind comes to a conclusion...that, in spite of the stalwart efforts of Ferrar's Superintendant Das, Ghandi-ji must die.

It seems to be the way of the world, then, as now.

Overall, I found this film fascinating and well done. Buchholz overdoes the 'wild-eyed young man' thing a bit, but I thought it was within acceptable parameters. Ferrar was the rock during the whole thing. His gravitas carried the story along where a lesser presence might have failed, and if I'm being honest, he passed as a Desi guy pretty well, in spite of actually being originally from Puerto Rico (Desi is a catch-all term for people from Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, etc.). He reminded me a great deal of my friend and former landlord Munir, who is not without a good chunk of gravitas himself.  Indian actor & writer J. S. Casshyap, who played Ghandi-ji, was absolutely stunning.  He was almost like a photo come to life, and he radiated the kind of goodness that made Ghandi-ji one of the great heroes and role models of modern times. A few times I even had to remind myself that he wasn't actually the real Ghandi!

The film does a great job of giving us the feeling of that period. Filmed in various locations in India, it showed the colourful, crowded streets, the dazzling hodgepodge of cultural types, with some fantastic music (any film that starts with a Thani Avartam, which is a South Indian drum solo, gets my attention right away; there were the South Indian drums Mridangam ;double-headed barrel drum], the Kanjira [small frame drum] & Ghatam [clay pot drum], along with the unlikely addition of the north Indian Tabla), and a feeling of change that comes off as palpable and dramatic.  Speaking of starts, btw,  NINE HOURS TO RAMA has possibly the most excellent titles known to cinema,  period.  there is as much drama in the titles alone as the average movie has in total...very interesting and captivating.

Fans of British empire films, Indian cinema and solid drama should really try to see this. It's fantastic, and it tells a story that many people, Americans at least, know little about.


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5 films I stumbled Upon...which Changed My Life

1/31/2016

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I don't normally do "list" posts (usually done as site fillers, it seems),  but after my westerns list (HERE),  I thought I'd try another...it took me a bit to figure out what it would be,  but here goes:

Back in my younger days I had what I believe was a little djinn looking out for the quality of my film exposure.  I would turn on the telly at random times,  and on some magical occasions,  a rare and wonderful film would be just about to start.  I never saw a bad film when it happened, either.  They were all incredible journeys for my young mind,  and they inspired me to look for more like them.  I thought I'd share a few of these...they aren't mind-bendingly rare,  and in fact,  most are common enough that I'd normally not blog about them.  In this case,  they figure deeply into my overall experience as both a movie watcher and as a person.  That deserves a little attention, wot?

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Come Next Spring (1956)  Steve Cochran, Ann Sheridan.  

This one is very special to me.  When I was a kid it came on occasionally,  and I savoured every moment each time I watched it...pre-VCR days, don't ya know.  In it, Cochran plays a man who returns after many years to the wife and children he abandoned when he was an extreme drunkard.  His wife,  initially hard and bitter,  slowly softens to him as he proves that his reformation is solid and true.  He weathers the disdain of the townsfolk,  and gradually earns their trust and respect.  It's a solid telling of the classic story of redemption and forgiveness,  and with a wonderful Max Steiner score (although a bit scavenged from SERGEANT YORK, apparently),  you can't help but feel good.  It taught me a lot about forgiveness,  actually,  and it helped in some small way to reconnect with my dad later in life...we're all weak humans,  and COME NEXT SPRING is a very much a story for humans.

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A Man Called Horse (1970)  Richard Harris.

This is a midnight stumble for me;  I woke up at a random moment in the middle of the night, turned on the box,  and it was beginning....from the first moment, I was captivated.  Based on a short story of the same name by Dorothy M. Johnson (who also wrote The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance),  it's about an English gentleman on safari in the wilds of America,  shooting wild game for, presumably,  the collection, back in ye jolly olde.  His group of scraggly scouts gets ambushed by Indians, and he's taken captive.  Slowly, in true Edgar Rice Burroughs fashion,  he rises to the status of man,  and becomes a part of the tribe...which makes him an enemy of the other whites.  As I said,  it's very much like a John Carter of Mars-type story,  with the warrior spirit and the (extremely) beautiful princess.  Some will complain about yet another story of a white man becoming the king of some other race,  but I forgive the world for it's foibles.  Especially when the foibles are this exciting!

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A Patch of Blue (1965)  Sidney Poitier, Elizabeth Hartman.

I thank God for the day I fell upon this masterpiece of kindness and generosity.  A much-abused blind girl is discovered alone in a park by a kindly black man while she strings beads for sale to an old businessman.  They become friends,  and the man becomes gradually aware of the horrible life this girl leads, under the cruel and jealous hand of her fat,  aging, prostitute mother (played with appropriately offensive gusto by Shelley Winters).  He takes her under his protection and eventually leads her to a better life.  I was going through a period of reading stories by black American writers,  particularly enjoying the stunning prose of Richard Wright in his autobiography, BLACK BOY.  This film hit me with all the full force of a train at that moment...such humanity,  such cruelty,  such kindness.  It really showed that nobody can tell where goodness can be sourced,  and how even the smallest kindness and change a person's life forever.  I still watch it occasionally in these troubled times,  to remind me that the world is still a place ripe with altruistic possibilities.

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Little Big Man (1970) Dustin Hoffman, Faye Dunaway, Chief Dan George.

Another midnight stumble.  Based on the novel of the same name by Thomas Berger and directed by Arthur Penn (who also directed BONNIE AND CLYDE),  it satirically tells the story of a white boy is taken into an Indian tribe after his parents were massacred.  Told in flashbacks related by his elderly self,  it goes up through his adventurously inept-yet-charmed life,  complete with a hilarious General Custer (Richard Mulligan), and Wild Bill Hickok (Jeff Corey).  It also scores points with me currently,  due to a recently-acquired obsession with Faye Dunaway,  who is perfectly lovely here.  I'm glad this one snuck in under my radar.  I'm not much for comedies,  especially when they're quite this silly...especially the odd performance of Chief Dan George.  It's really a very well-told and charming telling of a period in the American west,  and I remember being inspired to travel and be open to adventures after I saw it.  Dustin Hoffman has been rising on my actors list recently,  with ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN and KRAMER VS KRAMER...LITTLE BIG MAN was his first checkmark in the 'good' category for me.

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Serpico (1973) Al Pachino.

This is a stunner of a cop film,  and, though THE GODFATHER is one of my fave films of all time,  SERPICO actually beats it.  Telling the story of a clean cop trying to stay clean in a police force infested with greed and corruption,  Pachino tears up the screen with nobility and determination.  He weathers hostility (and eventually violence) at the hands of his "fellow" cops,  and endures the damage that his steadfastness brings to his private life.  Based on a real story written by Peter Maas,  Sidney Lumet takes us into the down-and-dirty of life in 1970's New York like an atom bomb.  This is the one film that reminds me,  in the current atmosphere of crappy, glossy, unrealistic junk,  that films can be realistic.  The 70's in general are famous for this,  but I believe that SERPICO is one of the most gritty and solid of the bunch.  I couldn't admire Pachino more.  Along with a host of other fiction,  this taught me that there is great value of holding to your truth,  and that being respected is far better than being liked...which is entirely counter-intuitive in this generation of platitudinous Facebook "likers".


After writing this list,  I've gone through a lot of movie watching memories,  and I've contemplated on how much film has taught me when the writing is splendid and the rest is done with art and craft.  Movies have always been more than an entertainment for me;  it isn't a matter of 'like' or 'dislike',  or of passing (and usually arbitrary) personal taste.  Great film can be objectively good,  waiting for us to come around to what it has to teach us...I hope to stumble on to more such gems for the rest of my days!

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The Hunting Party (1971)

1/27/2016

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I made a mildly prophetic statement in my review of the fantastic  Oliver  Reed movie,  THE TRAP.   "if a movie is still bad after twenty minutes,  I will shut it off,  walk away,  and never look back",  Yup,  that's what I did say. I just re-read it.  Well,  I'm ashamed to say that I just shut off a movie after the twenty-minute cutoff point...and I looked back. 

The Hunting Party seemed like it should be good.  Gene Hackman,  a longtime fave of mine, Oliver Reed,  a new fave,  in a western,  one of my favourite genres...a movie with a reputation for 70's- style gritty violence.  I ask you,  how on Earth could that be bad?

Well,  it is bad,  and very bad.   I'm a person who doesn't easily say something like that about a western.  If you ask around,  you'll find that I'm a guy that loves a western show, and I have a broad range of tastes;  serials,  B-reels, television shows, TV movies (up into the 90's),  epics,  Spaghettis,  you name it.  

This one was impossible to take.

Against my (usually correct) instincts,  I put THE HUNTING PARTY back on the screen and started jumping ahead in short chunks to see if things maybe got better;  Reed and Hackman, right?   It...could have gotten better...couldn't it?   It could have,  it certainly should have,  but in reality,  it didn't.  The further along I went,  the more ridiculous it became. Look at the poster here;  even Reed seems to know that this is a stinker.

Hackman and Reed were really saddled,  so to speak, with a pretentious dud here.  It was trying so hard to be a gritty, hard-ass cowboy picture of it's era,  like THE WILD BUNCH,  CHATO'S LAND,  THE PROFESSIONALS,  and even the more gentle THE HIRED HAND were,  but it failed so miserably.  Honestly,  it came across more like an uncharacteristically bad episode of LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE, but with killings and tits.

Yes.  LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE with killings and tits:  THE HUNTING PARTY in a nutshell....

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