The Bride Came C.O.D. (1941)

It's interesting how often relatively minor movies lurk about somewhere in one's memory. Several many times over the years, friends -- knowing my penchant for film obscurities -- have asked me, 'What is that sweet little film where James Cagney kidnaps Bette Davis?' Well folks this is it, although there is rather more to the tale than that capsule.



Although signed to the same studio, Cagney and Davis had only worked together once previously in "Jimmy the Gent" (1934), even more obscure, probably because Cagney's cheeky persona clashed with Davis' normally dramatic roles. This film, however, proves with a vengeance that she could play comedy brilliantly as well. In it she is a spoiled heiress about to elope to Nevada with bandleader Jack Carson whom she has only known for a few days. Cagney runs a failing private charter airline heavily in debt and sees the answer to his immediate problems by promising to deliver the unmarried Davis to her father Eugene Pallette for $10 dollars a pound. When they crash-land in the middle-of-nowhere desert after Davis has tried to jump from the plane with her parachute on backwards, they bicker and spar. They come across a ghost town inhabited only by an elderly hotel-keeper, the ever-loveable Harry Davenport, who promptly slaps Cagney in his rickety jail. Then when he learns the rather different facts of their situation, he puts her inside instead as they await her father. Also descending on them are the press as personified by Stuart Erwin who is looking for headlines, the rather effete Carson, and various sheriffs and their deputies.

There are no prizes for guessing who ends up with whom, but the chase is a delight throughout as Cagney woos and wins Davis in his own tough little way. Once seen, it is a screwball comedy that insinuates itself into your memory as one of life's little pleasures.

The Love Guru (2008)

Just when did Mike Myers stop being funny -- assuming he was ever funny in the first place. While he probably deserves his funnyman rep from Saturday Night Live and other stand-up gigs, his success as a film actor makes me wonder. The two Wayne's World movies have their moments. The three Austin Powers films were just about tolerable, if increasingly stupid. He was fine as the voice of Shrek, but the less said about his Cat in the Hat the better. In this self-penned effort, I seriously think that he is about the only one who still believes that he is amusing.



He plays a conceited and full-of-himself non-Indian self-styled guru, whose idea of a foreign-sounding greeting is "Mariska Hargitay", and whose main goals in life are to appear on Oprah and to overtake Deepak Chopra as the guru of choice. He would also like to get rid of the chastity belt that he has been forced to wear since adolescence. He is employed by dishy Canadian ice hockey team owner Jessica Alba and her manager Verne Troyer to get their disconsolate star player and his wife back together after she has taken up with rival player Justin Timberlake, nicknamed 'Le Coq' for obvious reasons. That is about the level of the potty humour in this movie with its punning Indian names churned out by the preening Myers. The whole shooting match reeks of desperation, with only the very occasional bit of slapstick on the ice rink raising the ghost of a smile.



I shudder to think what new horrors Mr. Myers will inflict upon us with his forthcoming remake of the Danny Kaye classic "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty".

What Price Glory (1952)

This John Ford film is a companion piece for "When Willie Comes Marching Home" (1950) which I reviewed back in April. I said at the time that it is a little unusual for Ford to do straight comedy, although many of his movies have their comic moments. This one which is a remake of Raoul Walsh's 1926 silent of the same name is also somewhat heavy-handed on the comic elements whereas the original play was intended as an anti-war polemic. Mind you war films are my least favourite genre, so on the one hand I should be pleased that Ford has opted for the comic over the tragic here, but it doesn't sit well with the anti-war sentiments which intermingle.

Like the 1950 movie, this one stars Dan Duryea as top soldier Sergeant Quirt in Captain Flagg's (James Cagney's) marine detachment in France during World War I. They have fought together -- and each other -- all over the world, and things come to a head here when they both fancy the local inn-owner's daughter, Corinne Calvert, again from the earlier film along with character actor William Demarest. Too much is made of their rivalry, although the viewer understands that underneath the outward bickering lies a deep affection and an acceptance of a soldier's priorities.

While it is always a pleasure watching the pugnacious Cagney, his dialogue as he bemoans the needless death of the young and inexperienced soldiers under his command does not sit too well with his hard man persona. The subplot of a 22-year old Robert Wagner wanting to marry the French schoolgirl he has just met seems to be there only to underline the sacrifice of such young men. Perhaps Flagg and Quirt's banter is really there to mask the horrors of war but it seems only to dilute them.

On balance this is very minor Ford -- still watchable, but not as memorable or as moving as many of his much greater films.

W. Somerset Maugham

This long-lived and prolific British novelist, playwright, and short-story writer bequeathed a treasure trove of source material to both film and television, which is still being tapped today. Cinema versions of The Razor's Edge, Of Human Bondage, and the Painted Veil have been done and re-done, and Ashenden -- the Secret Agent -- continues to delight us. Several of his best short tales were sourced to provide three still-fine British compilation movies: Quartet (1948), Trio (1950), and Encore (1951). Apart from providing a Who's Who of acting talent from that period, the three also benefit from having Maugham himself on camera, introducing each collection.



Since these stories were originally written a quarter of a century or so before the movies were made, the attempt to update some rather dated behaviour to a contemporary setting does not always work, but that apart, all ten tales bring their enjoyment to the table. The first collection is probably the best of the bunch, with the young Dirk Bogarde's would-be pianist in 'The Alien Corn' and Nora Swinburne's unlikely literary cause de celebre in 'The Colonel's Lady' as the stand-out performances. The other two stories of a young tennis player proving that luck beats brains when enticed by a gold-digger in 'The Facts of Life' and George Cole as the young husband who refuses to support his wife after she destroys his precious kite (in the story of the same name) are also absorbing.



"Trio" has two charming stories in 'The Verger' where James Hayter becomes a successful businessman after being sacked from his church job for not being able to read and write and 'Mr. Knowall' where a boorish ship's passenger manages to annoy just about everyone but ends up nobly protecting a lady's honour. Unfortunately the third story, 'Sanitorium', takes up more than half of the film's running length and possibly marginally outstays its welcome, but is redeemed by a sweet turn from the very young Jean Simmons.



"Encore" also features three stories with, I felt, diminishing returns. The first 'The Ant and the Grasshopper' is a rather droll tale of wastrel Nigel Patrick ending up more successful than his very dull and careful brother. In 'Winter Cruise' -- another shipboard drama -- spinster Kay Walsh never stops chattering until the ship's officers on the return journey where she is the only passenger devise a scheme to divert her attention. Finally, in the story I liked least 'Gigolo and Gigolette', we have variety artist Glynis Johns beginning to lose her nerve for the high-dive act which she performs nightly with her husband for the thrill-hungry patrons of a Riviera club -- all waiting for her to fail and kill herself.



Despite any reservations outlined above, I can cheerfully recommend these three films to anyone looking for some mild diversion. Meanwhile, let us drink a toast to Mr. Maugham and his continued legacy.

This Land is Mine (1943)

As I am wont to comment periodically when Charles Laughton figures in my recent viewing, he is one of my top favourites and in so many ways one of the most accomplished screen actors ever. I am glad to discover that I am not alone, having recently stumbled on a Laughton group on Yahoo comprised of others who believe the same. The thing about him is just how expressive he could be on screen with the most minimal of gestures or facial tics and also how moving he could be when speechifying (there is no other suitable word for some of his longer bits of dialogue). All of this wonderful ability is on display in this movie.



The illustrious French director Jean Renoir sought refuge in Hollywood during WW II and turned out an assortment of fine films of which this is one of the very best, albeit possibly the least-known. It is set "somewhere in Europe" during the German occupation, without specifically mentioning France (and all of the characters have slightly anglicized names). Laughton plays a timid schoolmaster, jeered by his pupils, who lives with his overbearing and babying mother, Una O'Connor. He is reunited with his "Hunchback" co-star Maureen O'Hara, a fellow teacher and neighbour, whom he silently worships, but who is engaged to George Saunders, a local bigwig who reluctantly knuckles under the German authorities as personified by slimy Walter Slezak, hoping for survival and a better future. Her brother, Kent Smith, appears to fraternize with the occupying soldiers but is a secret saboteur.



When Resistance activity results in German deaths, hostages are taken including Laughton, but O'Connor fearing for her rather elderly little boy shops Smith to Saunders who in turn tells Slezak, in the misguided hope of helping his fellow citizens. When Smith is killed and only Laughton is released, O'Hara assumes that he is the squealer. In a rage, Laughton goes to confront Saunders only to find that the latter has remorsefully committed suicide; found at the scene, he is arrested for murder and brought to trial in the civil court which the Germans maintain under the pretext of coexisting with local authority. Laughton known primarily for his cowardice now finds this the only available forum for free speech. After an offer from Slezak to manufacture a suicide note in exchange for collaboration and after seeing the other hostages shot by a firing squad, he uses the court to encourage resistance and sabotage. He is acquitted of the murder charge, but his days as a free man are now numbered, and he uses these to indoctrinate his students (who now idolise him) on the rights of man.



Laughton is nothing short of magnificent in this role as he moves from an awkward and scaredy-cat big baby to a noble being. From his safe haven in Hollywood, Renoir is speaking to the free world through this character, and it is as moving and effective an anti-war film as any. Without Laughton it might have been mere melodrama, but with him, it is a masterpiece.

Journey to the Center of the Earth (2008)

This movie is not quite a case of rampant remake-itis, since it is nearly fifty years since the original and still highly entertaining film starring the incomparable and dashing James Mason was released, and this movie was conceived as one of the new wave of 3-D efforts. Since I viewed the film in its two-dimensional foremat, I can't comment on whether that was a good idea or not, but I can say that it is nearly as acceptable as the 1959 movie in terms of offering the not-too-discriminating viewer a good time. Mind you any movie which does not number Pat Boone amongst its cast starts at something of an advantage.



In fact this film is not so much a remake as a movie that takes Jules Verne's original story as a starting point for a slightly different tale. Brendan Fraser -- yes, him again -- is the hangdog college professor trying to protect his dead brother's scientific legacy. The brother was apparently a "Vernean", someone who believed that the original book was based on a real underground adventure. Fraser ends up in Iceland with the 13-year old nephew (Josh Hutcherson -- so very good in "Zathura" and "Bridge to Terabithia") he has reluctantly agreed to mind for the next ten days to save his brother's research lab from being closed down. There they meet up with Anita Briem (actually Icelandic) playing the least athletic-looking mountain guide in the world. Apart from a few very minor characters, the movie is effectively a three-hander for these protagonists and the chemistry between them is believable as they find themselves trapped beneath the earth.



Like a number of fun films it helps if you hang up your brains at the door before viewing the escapades that follow, only some of which seem derivative of better movies, especially the runaway underground mine railway so reminiscent of Indiana Jones. Yes, we have luminescent birds, scary flying fish with big sharp teeth, Nessie-like sea monsters, a rampant dinosaur, a beautiful underground landscape, narrow escapes, and a fine sense of adventure. Just don't expect any of it to make much sense, but let your inner child go with the flow. I especially liked the image of our three heroes returning to the surface in a boat fashioned from a dinosaur-skeleton's jaw. I really don't know who decided that Fraser was cut out to be the action man that he has become, but unlike the third Mummy movie reviewed recently, here at least we can see him as a caring and brave human being rather than your usual run-of-the-mill muscle-bound hero.

Madadayo (1993)

I can't quite believe that in the more than four years that I've been blogging both on my old AOL site and with this journal, that I have not previously written about Akira Kurosawa (if the search engines are to be believed), since he's right up there with my favourite directors. He was incapable of writing and directing an uninteresting film, not just the samurai epics for which he is renowned and the literary dramas, both often starring Toshiro Mifune, but also for some of his smaller tales. He had fallen out of favour with the Japanese studios in the 70s and his later films were largely financed with the help of the US-director pack of that period, Scorsese, Coppola, et. al. and proved that he had not lost his amazing touch during his very long career.



This film is his very last one and has not been widely available. It is an old man's movie as he considers the meaning of life and the approach of death, yet it is a joyous affair with just a touch of underlying melancholy The story opens in 1943 as a beloved professor (of German ironically) announces his retirement to his adoring students. He moves to a small and simple house with his loyal wife and there they entertain favourite students, starting with a 60th birthday celebration. The house is fire-bombed during the War and the couple move to a simple shack, but their hospitality remains. The ringleaders of his old students decide to hold an annual birthday bash for their "solid-gold" professor (and subsequently club together to build a new house for him). At each of these, after chugalugging a large glass of beer -- an amazing amount of drink is consumed during the telling -- the students call out "Are you ready" and the professor replies "Madadayo" (not yet) which is the traditional child's response in hide-and-go-seek. At the first party, the students take turns to say something brief but positive about the professor, apart from one man who claims to be unable to make speeches but who can recite all of the local stations on a long train route (which amusingly continues long after the others have finished). As the years progress, the gatherings grow in size to include wives, children, and eventually grand-children and become more lavish, until the old man is taken ill during his 77th celebration.



What comes across is the great love, affection, and consideration that the professor has inspired in all of his students and his continued good humour and impish behaviour even in adversity. The film is not perfect; there is one section that goes on far too long concerning the depression caused by a lost cat (the couple have no children of their own), but this is a minor fault in a truly moving story. It is far more than just a Japanese "Goodbye, Mr. Chips".



Special mention should be made of the actor in the lead role, Tatsuo Matsumura, who played the professor from 58-ish through to 77, aging appropriately in the process. I was amazed to discover that he was actually already 79 years when he took on the role, but all of the casting was spot-on. This film is the perfect swan song and grace note for the director who was called 'Sensei' -- the Master!

Coco Before Chanel (2009)

We went to a preview showing of this French-language flick starring the ever- gamine Audrey Tautou as the young Coco Chanel, which concentrated on the years leading up to her success as a couturier. It goes to prove that the French can be every bit as careful as a Merchant-Ivory team in producing a heritage film with the relevant period evoked in loving and faithful detail and beautifully photographed. It also proves that such movies can also be ever so slow and occasionally tedious.



Apart from the wonderful production values, what saves this film is the high standard of the acting. We follow Coco in the years when she and her sister leave the orphanage where they were dumped by their father after their mother's death, through their early years as seamstresses and would-be music-hall stars, through to her sister's romance with a Baron who loves her but who is not prepared to marry her, and Coco's involvement with a boorish but moneyed landowner played by the excellent Benoit Poelvoorde (who will always be the serial killer from "Man Bites Dog" to me). Under his protection -- he can't quite get her to leave his estate -- she develops her own simple and slightly masculine sense of style, proves an amusing diversion for his aristocratic houseguests, and manages to fall in love with a visiting Englishman, played by the American actor Alessandro Nivola speaking excellent French.



What is missing, however, is any sense of time. We know that Coco left her orphange in the early years of the 20th Century, but the events which actually occurred right up to about 1919 have been condensed into what seems a shorter time frame and there is no allowance, except for a comment in passing, for World War I. And while Tautou and Nivola have great chemistry, the development of their doomed romance (he is about to marry a wealthy Englishwoman) and his helping her to launch her own salon seem to take forever. There is shot after shot of her carefully trimming hats and cutting fabric. Also, while Tautou is probably marginally too old to play the very young Coco, she does not appear to age at all during the telling; even the coda showing one of her much later fashion shows depicts her as unchanged. Apart from creating a fashion line which remains classic to this day, perhaps she also discovered the secret of eternal youth!

The Nanny (1965)

I must admit that I have never been a huge fan of Hammer Studio films, although their horror outings from roughly 1957 through to the mid-70s were influential and they did churn out a number of moderately diverting movies to fill the odd 90 minutes. They brought the talents of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee to the fore, for which we can thank them. However they also gave us an assortment of largely forgettable buxom beauties, some lurid color photography, and a number of derisory plots.





This Hammer film from the period has nothing in common with the rest of their output . For a start it is in not so glorious black and white, gives roles to a different assortment of actors than usual, but most importantly stars Bette Davis, who is well up on my all-time favourite actresses list. It is one of two movies that she made for them in the 60s when she was scrabbling for work. While it is a far less flamboyant role than the eyepatched, monstrous mother she plays in "The Anniversary" (1968), this remains one of her creepiest characters ever, almost on a par with Baby Jane.





She is the beloved family nanny in the household of Wendy Craig and James Villiers, having also been Craig's and her sister Jill Bennett's nanny when they were little. However there was a tragedy two years before when the younger of her charges was found drowned in the bath. Davis blamed the girl's death on her brother Joey and the lad is just returning home after two years at a special school for problem children. His version of the events is that Davis was responsible for his sister's death and that she is out to get him as well; however he is such a bolshie little brat that one does not quite believe him. Against this Davis brings such subservient menace to her role -- she has remained in the household for the past two years even 'though there were no children, to look after the increasingly childish and hysterical Craig -- that one just can not warm to her.





Yes, she is almost too good to be true. As the boy played by a fine child actor, William Dix (he only appeared again in the original "Doctor Doolittle"), reveals his version of the events to the feisty teenaged girl in the apartment upstairs, Pamela Franklin, we begin to be convinced that Davis is some sort of monster in disguise. Then when Craig lands in hospital with food-poisoning (blamed of course on Joey) and Bennett who has a weak heart is left to die after seeing Nanny hovering outside Joey's bedroom door, suffocating pillow in hand, there is no further doubt. The denouement is wrapped up too rapidly for the film to be a classic of any kind and it is certainly not a horror movie in the usual sense of the word. However it will remain a fine reminder of Davis' acting skills even during one of her fallower career periods.

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008)

The curse of the threequels strikes again! This follow-up to the two Brendan Fraser Egyptian mummy capers well and truly sucks. Put it down to the non-convincing script with its duff dialogue and the non-stop bombardment of special CGI effects, but none of Fraser's previously goofy charm shines through and he just seems to be going through the motions. Rachel Weisz wisely ducked out of playing his wife and co-worker for the third time. In her place we have Maria Bello, who is not a bad actress, but she has no real rapport with Fraser and she has been given a lot of stick for her so-called phony English accent (it's not THAT bad). John Hannah is back, as annoying as ever, as her cowardly brother.



Having exhausted the possibilities in Egypt, the director Rob Cohen has moved the action to China where Fraser's son (one unmemorable Luke Ford) unearths the burial site of the long-dead emperor played by Jet Li. Unfortunately the latter has minimal opportunity to show his fighting skills, spends most of the movie in muddy mummy make-up, and definitely does not seem to be enjoying himself in the same way as he did in "The Forbidden Kingdom". Only Michelle Yeoh as the immortal entrusted to prevent Li's re-emergence manages to maintain her dignity.



The story -- such as it is -- matches the resurrected Li's army of terracotta warriors, in cahoots with the Chinese (?), fighting an army of dead skeletal martyrs raised by Yeoh, while all of the main characters attempt to administer the necessary coup de grace to prevent Li ruling the world. We are even given a flock of huge friendly yetis to add to the action. That was when I finally admitted that the film was an irredeemable mess rather than any sort of fun.

Paris Blues (1961)

While this film has its fans and also has a number of good things going for it, it is not, on reflection, that great a movie. Partly this is because it has dated rather badly. In its attempt to capture the feel of the so-called "beat generation", every line of dialogue seems to include the word "man" and there are endless scenes of enraptured fans crowding a night club and swooning to the jazz.



Paul Newman and Sidney Poitier play expatriate musicians in Paris. Newman is there because he lives and breathes music and thinks it is the best environment for him to develop as a composer. Poitier, while also an able performer, has chosen to live there to escape the daily humiliations of racial prejudice back home. Into their lives come two American tourists on a two-week holiday in Paris, white Joanne Woodward in her fourth co-starring role with her husband and black Diahann Carroll. Once they pair off into the accepted colour lines --- Newman originally making a play for Carroll -- they all fall in love to moody black and white shots of a Paris sorely bereft of the usual tourist attractions. Woodward has to be the sexual aggressor to get Newman ensnared, but this is explained away by making her a divorcee with two young kids (and therefore an 'experienced' woman). The crunch comes when they try to convince their lovers to return home with them: Can Newman forsake his musical destiny? Can Poitier face up to and fight against discrimation?



The movie's music credentials are pretty remarkable with Duke Ellington in charge of the score which features a number of his standards. There is also an unnecessary role for Louis Armstrong as a visiting celebrity; this adds little to the story, but it does afford one great jazz battle between his players and Newman's. And it is always a pleasure watching the great Satchmo.



The final plot thread concerns Newman trying to wean gypsy guitarist Serge Reggiani off hard drugs before he loses his talent, but this is something of an afterthought since no other drugtaking, which was an intrinsic part of the beat scene, is shown. The players here only seem to get high on music.

An Unfinished Life (2005)

I've written before about movies that seem to fall between the cracks and which are studiously not aired. This "all-star" film from director Lasse Hallstrom was apparently never deemed worthy of being scheduled on satellite TV and has only rather belatedly surfaced on terrestrial TV where it was awarded a paltry one out of five stars in the blurb. Since it has a 7+ rating on IMDb, I was intrigued to find out who was correct and having now watched it, I will add my positive vote to those discerning viewers.



Not that I am a particularly big fan of Robert Redford whose later roles have vainly attempted to recapture his previously pretty looks by careful camerawork. Nor have I ever been much enamoured of the preening Jennifer Lopez. However, I am happy to say that they are both excellent here and this might well be her best-acted role ever. Abused by her current boyfriend, -- we've seen her as such a victim before --, she grabs her 11-year old daughter and seeks refuge in Wyoming with her rancher father-in-law Redford, whom she has not seen since her late husband's funeral and who was not previously aware that he even had a grand-daughter. She is initially not made welcome since he continues to blame her for his son's death in a road accident when she was at the wheel. His wife has also left him and his only companion is hired hand Morgan Freeman whom he must nurse after the latter was badly mauled by a bear. For once Redford is playing his age and not only are his looks those of a grizzled older man, but he is a curmudgeon to boot. However the depth of the relationship between him and Freeman, who gives as good as he gets in the short-temepered stakes is moving, as is his growth as he comes to love his little grand-daughter and even to forgive Lopez.



There are also fine roles for Damian Lewis as her violent -ex, Camryn Mannheim as the local cafe owner, Josh Lucas as the country sheriff, and expecially young Becca Gardner as the strong-willed daughter. It's a pity that this film did not make more of a mark, since Gardner might then have had the subsequent career that her playing here warrants. There is also a wonderful turn by a great grizzly bear, the same one that attacked Freeman, who looks ever so cuddly but who in the end was simply following his animal instincts. And even he deserves forgiveness!

Back to the Oldies

Some people indulge in "comfort food" to alleviate whatever; my vice is "comfort movies". Whenever I feel I am getting a surfeit of tasteless modern fare or I'm satiated with foreign arthouse flicks (and there have been a profusion of these lately), I go back in time to preferably beautiful black and white minor films. Since I last wrote, there has been time for two of these which were dandy, plus a relatively more recent colour movie which didn't quite do the trick. The gems, such as they are, first:



Quality Street (1937): I am a big Katharine Hepburn fan even from this period in her career when she was considered 'box-office poison'. Based on a J. M. Barrie play, she plays a spinster living with her sister Fay Bainter, whose one true love -- Franchot Tone -- has gone off to fight in the Napoleonic Wars. When he returns ten years later, he seems not to recognize the plain schoolma'am she has become, so she pretends to be her own young and flirtatious niece to win him back. The joke is that he really has been in love with her all along and he must find a way of disposing of the mythical niece to satisfy all of the nosy neighbours; foremost of these is the wonderful Estelle Winwood who was still appearing in films when she was pushing 100. This movie directed by George Stevens, is impossibly twee like so much Barrie whimsy, but the wonderful Hepburn brings a warmth and glow to her role which makes it all worthwhile.



Angels over Broadway (1940): Written and directed by Ben Hecht, this film nominally stars Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. as a penniless hustler, the ever-so-gorgeous Rita Hayworth as a showgirl down on her luck, and Thomas Mitchell as an alcoholic playwright (it's fascinating how often he was chosen to play a drunk!) They get together one evening to help poor snook John Qualen -- a fixture in John Ford films -- raise 3000 bucks to satisfy his boss who is about to turn him over to the police for embezzlement. And it is Qualen who really makes this movie the happy experience it is, as Mitchell concocts a scenario where Fairbanks will get Qualen into a crooked poker game, contriving for him to leave early on with his "come-on" winnings. It's a very small little movie, but it manages to convey a big heart.



Hot Enough for June (1964): Some titles remain more in the memory than the movie attached to them, and so it was with this one which I hadn't seen for yonks. In truth, the film has not aged well, although it still had its moments. For some reason, the title was changed in the U.S. to "Agent 8 & 3/4", suggesting some sort of spoof, since Dirk Bogarde is the unsuspecting spy sent to Prague, but is hardly meant to embody the derring-do of a James Bond. In fact he acquits himself admirably while managing to romance communista Sylva Koschina. Bogarde was THE British heartthrob of the 60s, but in fact was not one for the ladies, which makes his romantic leads somewhat hilarious in retrospect. The very best thing about this movie was the casting of Robert Morley and John LeMesurier as the couldn't-give-a-damn British spymasters and Leo McKern as their Czech counterpart. All very good-natured, but not as memorable the original title (which was the code-phrase for identifying overseas moles). I doubt that I will be tempted to revisit here again.

Ikinai (1998)

There are so many specialist channels on satellite television -- more than I am ever likely to sample even out of curiosity (and one does wonder to whom some of them might appeal). However I do keep my beady eye on the various film channels of which there are a surprising number, although they have a tendency to abruptly disappear, since their finance remains a mystery. Most of those which are not subscription channels do carry an assortment of advertisements, which cuts up the viewing process into less pleasurable chunks. I therefore tend to ignore the various made-for-TV film channels, the so-called 'Movies for Men', and even the Horror Channel unless they are showing something which sounds irresistible (not often). An exception is made for Film Four, now that they have gone to Freeview with adverts, on those very rare occasions when they schedule something which has not already been available elsewhere ; it was a wonderful channel in its subscription days, but apparently insufficiently profitable.



I was surprised to come across a channel -- new to me and I have no idea how long it has been going -- called World Movies which not only shows mainly subtitled foreign films (there is the occasional Australian or US Indie in English), but also seems to have access to movies which are not available on DVD. The downside is that they have an intrusive logo and even worse allow for frequent ad breaks, although they do not appear to have any advertisers yet, without a clear title card to signify the end of one section and the start of the next. However, I am putting up with this in the short term and have been rewarded with some pretty obscure, but generally quite good, films in Japanese, Chinese, French, et. al.



The above Japanese movie which I watched yesterday is a typical case in point. Billed as "Can't Live", I was unable to trace it on IMDb without knowing any cast or filmmaker names, but the blurb sounded interesting. I now learn that the correct title is as above which apparently translates literally as 'cannot live' and that the Festival circuit title was "Suicide Bus". Produced by Takeshi Kitano's company, it was the first film for director Hiroshi Shimizu, who was an assistant director on earlier and later Takeshi projects and who has only directed one subsequent movie. The story concerns a diverse group of 10 men plus a perky female tour guide who gather to take a bus tour to Okinawa. Each of them wishes to die, for various reasons which emerge during the telling. They are heavily insured and know that the accident they have scheduled for New Year's Day on a treacherous stretch of road will receive a big payout to their heirs and/or creditors. However one of their original number, who has now been confined to a mental institution, gives his ticket to his young niece, rather than waste it, and the group reluctantly allow her to come along, fully accepting that she will need to die amongst them. One wonders here just how mentally ill her uncle must have been to offer his beloved niece a one-way journey!



For the next few days they behave as any tour group, visiting the expected sites, watching folksy troupes, taking group photographs, entertaining each other with their spectacular non-talents at a group dinner, and generally bonding. And only gradually does the cheerful young gal become aware of the group's ultimate destination. Even 'though this movie is unlikely to come your way in the foreseeable future, I will not spoil the ending, other than to say that it is as black and bleak as it could be, with a totally out-of-left-field denouement. I can well understand why it was thought a suitable project for Office Kitano and I thank the very flawed World Movie Channel for bringing it to my attention.

Ship of Fools (1965)

This all-star film from director Stanley Kramer is set in the early 30s and tells of a voyage from Mexico to Germany. It has one of the great ensemble casts of its day and these are the main characters: Vivien Leigh in her last role is the jaded, world-weary woman that she played so perfectly in her previous film, "The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone"; Simone Signoret is an aristo headed for a Spanish island jail after formenting revolution amongst the workers; Oskar Werner is the unhappily married ship's doctor with heart problems who loses his heart to Signoret; Jose Ferrer who lords it over the passengers at the Captain's Table, where only the purest of Germans are welcome, spouts Nazi propaganda to anyone who will listen; Lee Marvin is an uncouth redneck who can't see what the fuss is about -- he never even saw a Jew until he was 15 ("too busy lynching Negroes" quips Leigh); rich Elizabeth Ashley and poor artist George Segal are the sex-obsessed couple who have nought else in common; Jose Greco entertains with his Spanish dance troupe which he pimps out to the passengers each evening; Heinz Ruehmann, a stalwart of German cinema since silent days in his only English-speaking role, is the ostracized Jewish salesman who does not fear for his future since he considers himself a German foremost; finally there is the Oscar-nominated Michael Dunn, one of the most memorable dwarfs in film history. Add to these names various archetypes (the religion-spouting bigot and his hard-done-by virginal nephew, the couple whose pampered fat dog is treated as their child, and more) plus some 600 immigrant workers crowded onto the lower decks who are being sent back to Spain and the stage is set for non-stop drama.



However to paraphrase Dunn's final words in the film, 'What have we learned from all this? Absolutely nothing!' The movie is like a shipboard romance that fades into the distance when one faces the realities of life on shore, but it is a fascinating voyage while it lasts.

Chaos (2005)

This policier set in Seattle stars three of the least charismatic actors currently available: Ryan Phillippe, Wesley Snipes, and Jason Statham. Phillippe while now well over 30 and making a decent attempt to accept more adult roles (I saw him in the thoroughly depressing "Stop-Loss" (2008) a few days ago playing a soldier who considers defecting, when instead of being demobbed he is told that he is being sent back to Iraq), still manages to come across like a youngster playing with the big boys. Snipes, despite having had a definite presence in the past, particularly in the "Blade" series, has, since his recent tax troubles, only appeared in pretty dismissable rubbish phoning in his roles; I watched him in the Mario von Peebles' "Hard Luck" (2006) a few days ago and can now barely remember it. As for Statham who has appeared in a ridiculous number of action roles since his debut in 2000, his appeal eludes me, probably because I can not relate to his cardboard hero in the 'transporter' movies and the like; now maybe if I were a teenaged boy...



In this film Statham plays a suspended cop whose action in shooting a criminal at a police standoff resulted in the death of an innocent hostage. When a gang raids a bank taking 40 hostages, the ringleader Snipes will only deal with Statham and we are led to believe that he is the brother of the guy Statham has killed and that he is seeking revenge. Phillippe is brought in as the straight-arrow policeman attempting to fill his dead father's shoes who becomes Statham's new partner. Of course little is as it seems as the gang escapes from the bank (without on the surface having taken anything) and as their members are killed. The writer-director attempts to put a philosophical gloss on these dire procedings by trying to tell us the action should be interpreted by studying chaos theory. Whatever! The movie ends with a thoroughly amoral and hardly surprising denouement which has in its way become stereotypically par for the course nowadays. The biggest mystery is why there is no attempt to explain away Statham's thoroughly common South London accent, although that too does not seem to matter to his non-discriminating audience. Just count me out.

The Front Page (1931)

And so another one bites the dust! As my readers know I have this famous not-so-little list of films that I really want to see and I finally got to view (courtesy of friend Richard) this original screen version of Ben Hecht's and Charles MacArthurs's famous stage play. It's best-known incarnation is the role-reverse version "His Girl Friday" (1940) with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell, which puts paid to the theory that remakes are never any good. I am also quite fond of the Billy Wilder remake using the original title from 1973 with Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in the leads. There has also been a more recent and dismissable version set in a television studio. However the first adaptation from the early sound era has eluded me until now.



First off I must say that I was delighted to have the opportunity of viewing it in a relatively clean print, although the sound-track (very important for so verbal a movie) could have been better. The director Lewis Milestone used his skills with a swirling camera to make it seem less of a stage adaptation despite being locked largely into a single set. Both the director and the film were Oscar-nominated as was Adolphe Menjou in the lead role (although I'll be dipped if I know why) -- not that any of them won. Menjou plays the crafty editor Walter Burns and the Hildy Johnson part is taken by Pat O'Brien in his first lead role -- and far better a role than much of the minor movies which made up his long career. The script is very similar to the 1940 version, although one feeels in retrospect that Grant had rather more screen time, presumably because of the strength of his playing (and he wasn't Oscar-nominated!). The one difference is the pre-code inclusion of some swear words which don't jar overly in the machine-gun pace of the dialogue.



The movie also features a number of character roles for some long-lost faces and the showiest of these are given to Walter Catlett, Frank McHugh, and in a wonderful bit of casting as a fusspot (an image that haunted him throughout his career) Edward Everett Horton. The depiction of a newsroom set up at the scene of a would-be hanging is a wonder, as the various reporters embroider the actual facts to make their stories more readable -- much like today? And the pompous self-interest of politicians is also portrayed, making the screenplay as timely as ever. I guess on balance I would vote for the 1940 version as the best of the three, but one really needs to have seen this early one to fully appreciate the success of that film. So thanks again Richard for helping me enlarge my cinematic education.

Un Air de Famille (1996)

I was quite certain I had viewed this French film previously, but couldn't quite remember it. However since it was written by and featured the husband-wife team of Agnes Jaoui and Jean-Pierre Bacri who were so very good in both "The Taste of Others" (2000) and "Look at Me" (2004), I was happy to give it another go.



The title translates as "Family Resemblances" and concerns the three children of an overbearing mother, who meet with their spouses each Friday evening for a family dinner. This night they are also celebrating the birthday of the uptight eldest son's wife, played brilliantly by Catherine Frot, and they meet up at the run-down bar/restaurant run by younger son Bacri whose wife has just walked out. Their sister, Jaoui, is a 30-year old slacker who may or may not be involved with Bacri's hangdog employee Jean-Pierre Darroussin. There are several flashbacks to their joyful childhood before they mother left their happy-go-lucky father (Bacri's restaurant is named 'The Sleepy Dad Cafe'), but they are as disfunctional a group nowadays as you could hope to meet.



The eldest son is still fussing about his two-minute TV appearance on local television that afternoon (he is 'Number 4' in a local IT firm) and is overly concerned with his superiors' reactions, especially since Jaoui has that afternoon given a mouthful to 'Number 2', nicknamed Benito (for Mussolini). It may be his wife's day to celebrate, but he is so full of himself that it is obvious that he has no time to treat her properly. Her face as she opens her presents and finds that the family has clubbed together to buy her a dog that she does not want is priceless to behold, especially since a paralyzed and senile pet of the beloved breed is present in a corner, named Caruso, because he 'used to sing'. Bacri, who is obviously not the brightest spark, is treated as a hopeless case by his mother and brother, who also dismiss Darroussin completely as a feckless servant. Jaoui in turn is so alienated from all of them that she seems to be living in some sort of parallel world.



The film is quite obviously based on a play and is only slightly opened out under Cedric Klapisch's direction, but it does not suffer for this as the family dynamics and quirky dialogue produce their own rewards. And goofy Darroussin's dance turn with a somewhat inebriated birthday-girl Frot is a wonder to behold.

Awake (2007)

There is a quite reasonable convention that film reviewers and bloggers should not indulge in SPOILERS to avoid ruining the movie for the new viewer. However, some films can not be discussed at all without indulging in these and the convention presupposes that the movie in question could not possibly be enjoyed with such foreknowledge. Well, this film would probably not be all that enjoyable to the virgin viewer and anyone who really wishes to view the dubious procedings would probably not be put off by knowing what's what.



So here we go with spoilers galore. Hayden Christensen, not exactly the cream of leading men, plays one of the richest men in the city after his father's early death. The only problem on the immediate horizon is that he has a wonky heart and a rare blood type. He lives with his overbearing mama Lena Olin who is not aware that he is romancing her assistant, Jessica Alba, and he is too scared to tell her. He becomes friends with surgeon Terrence Howard when the latter saves his life after a previous health scare, and he is therefore keen that Howard should do the transplant when a suitable donor heart becomes available, while Olin is encouraging him to put his trust in a more experienced medical team. Meanwhile Howard encourages him to face up to his mother and to marry Alba, to make the most of whatever time he has left, which he does.



So where do we go from here? Well, it seems that Howard who faces ruin from malpractice suits is actually Alba's paramour and together with a crooked medical team they plan to move him up the donor waiting list by irregular means, let him die on the operating table, and split his vast wealth. The first twist as the blurb at the front would have it is that a certain proportion of patients do not go completely under when anaesthesized and remain conscious of what is going on, pain and all. This is what happens to Christensen as he suffers through the operation and gradually becomes aware of the perfidy around him. This voiceover would have been sufficient had the filmmakers not decided that the plot would be enhanced by having a disembodied Christensen watching and roaming through the hospital. The next twist, when it looks as if their nefarious plot will succeed, is that Olin, when she learns that her son is still being kept alive by artificial means, despite not actually having a heart, takes an overdose so that her heart can be put into her beloved son. The mind boggles somewhat at trying to work out how this could all be done in the time available, to say nothing about whether such a chemically-affected heart would be suitable, and just why Olin's preferred medical team happens to be standing by. So Christensen is given a new lease of life and the baddies are brought down; he may no longer have his Mummy or his beloved wife, but at least he still has all his money! Sorry if I've spoiled it for you. I will admit that the movie held my attention for much of the time as I wondered how it would resolve itself, but I think it had the bare bones for being a far better film than this final cut. (No pun intended!).

Romy Schneider

The new CineMoi French film channel has just finished a mini-season of movies starring Romy Schneider. Now there's a name I know I thought to myself; but when I checked her filmography I had no particular recollection of any of her film roles, despite having seen several of them including a disposable assortment of U.S. movies from the 1960s. Born in Austria, she achieved fame as a teenager in the trilogy of "Sissi" films as the Empress Elizabeth of Austria. She is still revered in Germany for this role and a commemorative postage stamp has even been issued. She followed her lover Alain Delon to Paris and was a fixture of mainly French flicks for the rest of her life, dying at the early age of 43 of a suspected overdose. Since she appeared in an assortment of top productions with A-list co-stars, I was quite looking forward to getting more familiar with her work.



Perhaps I have missed something, but I just can't grasp her magic. She is neither beautiful nor does she seem to have any dramatic depth, so I wonder just what it was that has made her something of an icon. (The French have issued a stamp as well!) She even won the first Cesar Award for best actress for her role in 1975's "L'important c'est d'aimer" -- a film that I found nearly unwatchable as porno-photographer Fabio Testi becomes entranced by her talentless actress, but refuses to have sex with her. (Klaus Kinski in another show-off role as a barnstorming, homosexual actor was the only light relief here). Then there were two films with the ever-watchable Michel Piccoli: in "Les Choices de la vie" (1970) he plays her lover who reviews his life as he lies dying in a car crash and in "Max and the Junkmen" (1971) he plays a top policeman who begins an affair with her 'working girl' in order to entrap a bunch of third-rate petty criminals. He was great in both, but in neither did she make much of an impression. In "Le Train" (1973) she was cast as a Jewish refugee who seduces Jean-Louis Trintignant's husband separated from his pregnant wife as they flee the approaching Nazis. In "A Woman at her Window" (1976) she is the wife of the Italian ambassador to Greece who falls for a hunted communist rebel, but only the supporting role of one of her admirers played by good-old hangdog Phillippe Noiret was really of any interest. There are a further two of her movies in my backlog, but frankly after the above marathon, I'm not in any galloping hurry to view them.



So I'm left with this puzzle. Many people obviously felt that she was talented and her circle of friends amongst the intelligentsia of her day was broad. She was recently voted the most memorable female film star in a German poll. Could somebody please tell me what I am missing.