Comanche Station (1960)

Comanche_Station_FilmPosterComanche Station opens with a man who willfully goes into Comanche territory. We don’t quite know why at first, but through haggling and bartering he’s able to save a captured white woman. It doesn’t come out until much later but it turns out that Jefferson Cody’s (Randolph Scott) own wife was captured by Comanche well nigh 10 years ago and he has never stopped looking.

The saved damsel Nancy Lowe gets the wrong impression about Cody believing the gruff figure was only in it for the money and that is far from the truth, as he intends to take her back to her husband out of harms way. That’s until they’re joined out on the trail by Ben Lane (Claude Atkins) and his two hired guns. Akins in fact takes on a role almost identical to Lee Marvin a few years before and he’s not quite as memorable. However, his two stooge sidekicks are more interesting, because although they are “outlaws” in a sense, we cannot help but like them for their buffoonery and conflicted morals.

Lane looks to ambush Cody and Mrs. Lowe so he can snag the reward, but Dobie will not take part. The shootout ensues between Cody and Lane. Afterwards the searcher leads the lady back to the arms of her husband. This final installment of Budd Boetticher’s Ranown Cycle shares some similarities to Seven Men From Now, but there is a totally different feel because the visuals are very different.

3.5/5 Stars

The Tall T (1957)

The_Tall_T_1957_PosterThe Tall T is a little different riff on the Budd Boetticher western, because it follows a former ranch hand named Pat Brennan who makes a stop at a local stagecoach way station to pay a visit to some locals before riding into the nearby town. Quickly we can see that Brennan is a little more jovial and still as tough as many of the other figures Scott has played.

He also is a first rate ranch hand, and yet after a bet with his old boss he loses his horse, because a bull throws him. Brennan attempts to catch a ride with a stagecoach with happens to be carrying two honeymooners, the timid Mrs. Mims and her stuffy husband. Reluctantly he is allowed to ride shotgun with the old time driver Rintoon (Arthur Hunnicutt) and it ends up being a regrettable decision. Mistaken for the regular stage, the four are hold up by three merciless outlaws looking for a big payoff.

They are led by Frank Usher (Richard Boone in a villainous turn), but the most deadly is Chink (Henry Silva), who seems eager to knockoff as many people as possible. And so a tense game of life and death ensues.  Rintoon attempts to fight back,  Mims agrees to go the cowardly route and ride off to try and attain ransom money. Brennan simply bides his time.

Unrest begins to build between the outlaws and Brennan takes his chance to save Mrs. Mims from the leering Billy Jack and bloodthirsty Chink. As the old story goes, the ringleader Usher is the only one left, but he has one last trick up his sleeve.

O’Sullivan’s role felt relatively minor, but it was quite fun to see Have Gun Will Travel’s Richard Boone opposite Randolph Scott. It made for a relatively interesting conflict.

3.5/5 Stars

Seven Men From Now (1956)

220px-Poster_of_the_movie_Seven_Men_from_NowAlong with Detour, Budd Boetticher’s Seven Men from Now is undoubtedly one of the greatest B-films I have seen to date. It rejuvenated the career of Randolph Scott who plays gruff sheriff Ben Stride. We are introduced to the often stoic man when he walks into a dimly lit cave during a torrential downpour. There he meets two strangers and demonstrates his skill with a gun for the first time.

For the rest of the film, he comes alongside a couple from the East, struggling to move westward with all their possessions carted on a wagon. The husband John Greer (Walter Reed), is a chipper man, but not a very adept pioneer. His kindly wife Annie (Gail Russell) loves him in spite of this ineptitude. He doesn’t say much, but Stride seems to like them both as well or at least, he knows they won’t make it very far without help. So after helping them get their wagon out of some thick mud, he sticks by their side.

They are eventually joined by Bill Masters (Lee Marvin) and his accomplice Clete, who look to make some money in the wake of Stride. He willfully explains to the Greers how Stride used to be the sheriff in the town of Silver Springs, before his wife was killed by a group of bandits when they were robbing a Wells Fargo shipment. He made it his mission to track down the seven men who took part in the act. And so as an opportunistic schemer Masters is content with riding along with Stride until the opportune moment to score a big payoff.

In this way, he helps the Greers and Stride fend off some Apache and even puts a bullet through a man before Stride gets it. If we didn’t know better, we might think that Lee Marvin has gone to the good side for once. But that’s not so. He’s full of insinuations, flirtations, and veiled threats that somehow feel more ominous than a Vince Stone or Liberty Valance. It’s not just physical brutality but he is playing perhaps an even deadlier game of mental warfare. Against not only Stride, but Mrs. Greer, and her husband.

It’s around this point that Masters and Clete make a move. They alert Stride’s nemesis to his plans and just like that two men go and ambush the veteran sheriff. He knocks them both off after receiving a wounded leg that leaves him unconscious out in the canyon. Luckily the Greers come across him and John decides to take responsibility for what he has unknowingly done. He goes into town to face the music for the role he has ignorantly taken in this whole deadly affair. After discounting Greer as weak and spineless, Masters is finally forced to recant his previous statement.

What’s left is Ben Stride out in the canyon with the Wells Fargo shipment, but with two new bandits and Masters and Clete, it looks to be a bloody finale. After a bit of backstabbing, Ben Stride stands alone in the aftermath. He has completed his odyssey and he says goodbye to Ms. Greer with a new resolve to take on the role of deputy sheriff in Silver Springs. But it’s doubtful if that is the end of his story.

4/5 Stars

 

The Bravados (1958)

The_Bravados_-_US_film_posterThe Bravados opens with an ominous stranger in black riding towards a town. He doesn’t say much, but his presence alone creates tension enough. He gets led into town by the local deputy and after a meeting with the sheriff, he is allowed to stick around. His only reason for coming to the city of Rio Arriba is to watch the hanging of four outlaws, at least that’s what he says. But when he asks to see the prisoners, he surveys them and there is nothing but anger in his eyes.

As they wait for the hangman from out of town to arrive, Jim Douglas (Gregory Peck) gets reacquainted with the beautiful Josefa (Joan Collins). And nothing is said about their backstory, but there is obviously something between them. He at first refuses her offer to go to church, but requests to walk her over before reluctantly joining her in the chapel.

However, back at the jail, the hangman is not who he appears and stabs the sheriff in the back with the four outlaws getting away taking a local’s daughter with them. So the town is in a fury sending a posse after the fugitives led by Douglas.

And one by one Douglas tracks down the culprits. First, ambushing Parral (Lee Van Cleef) who he shoots after the man begs for his life to be spared. Next, he takes down Taylor and hangs him from a tree after dragging him behind his horse. The posse does eventually get the kidnapped girl Emma, but Douglas is far from satisfied, crossing the border to Mexico to finish the job. He guns down Zachary in a bar and his only target left is Lujan (Henry Silva). But that’s when things change. Douglas is knocked out of his blind rage for a moment. Because this whole vendetta began after his wife was raped and murdered. He went on an obsessive quest to find the four culprits and although these four no-goods constantly denied seeing his wife, he just went after them anyway.

It is Lujan who finally makes Douglas realize he made a mistake. In this epiphany, Douglas realizes he is little different than these four outlaws, willing to kill mercilessly, even in the name of justice. He goes back to town a hero, but he heads straight for the church where he confesses his wrongs to the local priest. He is a man with a lot to wrestle with, but also a lot to live for thanks to his daughter and Josefa. Although not quite as iconic and memorable, The Bravados, in a sense, is Gregory Peck’s version of The Searchers. This Henry King western in CinemaScope is noteworthy for allowing Peck to play another morally ambiguous character. He is no Atticus Finch.

3.5/5 Stars

Yellow Sky (1948)

yellowsky2From William A. Wellman comes an unheralded western with an intriguing cast dynamic. Gregory Peck is the undisputed star as the boss of a group of outlaws who ride into town, pull a quick bank job, and are forced to flee from the Cavalry across the desert wasteland. It’s the prerogative of “Stretch” (Peck) to continue across the desolate terrain, despite the obvious drawbacks. But everyone else reluctantly follows although a few are opposed including his biggest rival Dude (Richard Widmark).

The story could end there with the band of fugitives dying of thirst in no man’s land and it nearly does happen, but like a mirage, they come upon a ghost town. It’s like a sick joke because it seems that all the people have picked up and left. All that is except an old prospector and his plucky Granddaughter (Anne Baxter). She is wary of these marauders, and she is extremely protective of her old grandpa. The men get a bit lustful since they have not seen a woman for some time and she catches the eye.

Again, the path of this story seems like it will be stagnant once more and yet that’s before we knew that the two relations are sitting on top of a gold mine. That catches the attention of the outlaws and the avarice grows in the hearts of the men. Not to mention their lustful desires.

yellowsky4That’s what makes “Stretch” such an interesting villain as portrayed by Gregory Peck. Certainly, he does wrong in the eyes of the law, but he has his morals in a sense. He vows to the old man that they will keep their agreement to split the gold. It’s the honorable thing to do and he is smitten with the attractive Mike. But Dude is not so excited about this act of charity and so he gets the boys to turn on “Stretch.” They try and pin him down and thus unfolds the necessary gunfight. The power struggle reaches its apex in the shrouded saloon where “Stretch”, “Dude”, and “Lengthy” face off for one final showdown. Shots are fired and a desperate Mike goes charging in to witness the outcome.

The bad boys get their comeuppance and the stooges including Walrus and Half-Pint (Harry Morgan) are okay. Most importantly “Stretch” is now a straight arrow for the girl he loves by pulling the world’s first reverse bank robbery.

Yellow Sky was a thoroughly enjoyable story because it felt surprisingly dynamic and even graphic for a 1940s western. Highlights include Anne Baxter slugging Gregory Peck and dishing out the ultimate insult that he smells bad.  Peck is such a commanding presence, and it’s fun to see him in a darker role. Baxter was also deadly in a very different way than her backstabbing Eve Harrington. Richard Widmark and John Russell were worthy adversaries while Charles Kemper was the token fat guy. And I still cannot get over how young and dare I say, scrawny Henry Morgan looks.

I must confess that I have never read The Tempest, but this story is supposedly based on that Shakespearean tale. Well, now I know.

4/5 Stars

 

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

c7ab8-all_quiet_on_the_western_front_1930_film_posterDirected by Lewis Millstone and starring an ensemble cast headed by Lew Ayres, this archetypal anti-war film based on the novel of the same name, begins with a group of school boys during the dawn of WWI. This group of patriotic German youth is hungry for adventure and the glories of war. 

Then they arrive and begin their training which causes them to despise their commanding officer and they also lose some enthusiasm. It gets worse when they head to a combat zone and join a company of veteran soldiers without any food to eat. They finally head to the front and after a day in the trenches their number is fewer. 

Trench warfare proves to be hardly as glamorous as it seems with constant bombardment, rats, lack of food, and most of all the shedding of blood. One of their pals loses his leg and his boots, then slowly more get knocked off or wounded. Now Paul is one of the only ones left but after a bout of hand to hand combat with a French soldier he becomes even more disillusioned. Paul too gets wounded and is sent home on furlough to his family but he finds his friends and family have no concept of the gritty, grimy reality of war. He returns to the lines one more time and a few of his old comrades are still alive. 

However, in a fateful moment Paul reaches out for a butterfly in his trench and just like that he is dead. The last of this school room full of young, naïve boys is now dead or injured. That is the horrible scar left by not only by WWI but any such conflict. 

Despite the fact that all the main German characters are played by Americans, this film has a sharp sense of realism that extends all the way through the film. Even though many of these young actors were unknowns and are not well known today, together they made a powerful ensemble. The themes of this film were so powerful in fact that it was banned in Germany.

5/5 Stars

Stage Door (1937)

Stage_Door_(1937)Watching Stage Door illustrates one of the pleasures of film because it’s an unassuming classic that very easily could be overshadowed by other films. Its main stars are Ginger Rogers and Katharine Hepburn, who both have numerous films more well known than this one.

However, this story about a boarding house for aspiring stage actresses is a light piece of sassy fun while still finding moments for poignancy. Rogers is a cynical dancer named Jean, and she is not too pleased to be getting a new roommate. The last one moved elsewhere after constant fighting. But the new girl, Terry Randall (Hepburn), is different. She is from a well to do family, but she is pursuing a career in acting so that she might stretch herself.

The other girls look on with an air of contempt thanks to her fine clothes and pristine manners. She doesn’t fit the mold of many of the other struggling actresses looking for their big break. Many spend their evenings trying to grab hold of a sugar daddy such as famed theatrical producer Anthony Powell (Adolph Menjou). Several of the girls have their eyes on him as they try and land a role in his next big production.

Kay Hamilton is the most well-liked girl in the house and arguably one of the most gifted performers. She opened the year before in a production that won her rave reviews, however, a year later she has yet to get another break, and she is running out of funds. Powell’s show is her last big chance. Thus, when Powell cancels her audition last minute for a trivial reason, Kay faints and an irate Terry bursts into his office to confront him. He is initially turned off, but then he chooses her for the lead role of the upcoming Enchanted April.

Although the girls were beginning to warm to Terry, Jean has trouble forgiving her as tragedy strikes. In fact, Terry almost refuses to go on stage altogether, and yet she goes out and gives an emotional performance that is hailed by critics. In the end, Terry and Jean are reconciled which is far more important than any type of fanfare.

In many ways, Gregory La Cava’s Stage Door feels similar to The Women (1939). Both films have casts with women in the primary roles and the stories are at times volatile, with so much drama and many zinging comebacks. Some of this was courtesy of the supporting cast which included such legendary comediennes as Lucille Ball and Eve Arden. Ann Miller is even present, but at its core Stage Door is Ginger and Katharine’s film. Pardon my curiosity, but did Fred and Spencer ever do a film like this?

4/5 Stars

Dinner at Eight (1933)

220px-Dinner_at_Eight_cph.3b52734Dinner at Eight is another all-star slug fest from MGM meant to capitalize and top the success of Grand Hotel from the previous year. This time around, well to do wife, Millicent Jordan is setting up a charming dinner party for a wealthy English couple Lord and Lady Ferncliffe who are traveling to New York. The hostess is frantically trying to figure out dinner guests for the big occasion because everything must be perfect. Observant viewers will notice that the high strung lady of the house is played by Billy Burke (more widely known as the Good Witch Glenda). Her husband Louis (Lionel Barrymore) is a kindly shipping magnate, who was hit hard by the depression, and his health is also failing as a result. Their daughter has problems of her own since she does not really love her fiancee and has fallen for the much older, and washed-up alcoholic actor Larry Renault (John Barrymore).

Next on the list of probable invitees is Carlotta Vance (Marie Dressler), the formerly prominent actress, who is now still in the twilight years of her career, but she still carries on a lavish lifestyle with furs and all. She is old friends with Louis, and she is always ready and willing to reminisce, fish for compliments, and offer a little sage advice on the side. She’s a character we like.

The most dynamic pair is most certainly Wallace Beery and Jean Harlow. They play the gruff, crooked businessman and his equally feisty wife, Dan and Kitty Packard. They’re hardly together because he’s working and she’s buying up clothes and caught up in an affair. When the two of them finally are together in the same room, they are constantly at each other’s throats. No punches or barbs are spared. And yet on the invitation to the Jordan’s they both pull their act together. He wants to meet the highly prestigious Ferncliffes, and she wants a chance to get dressed up. They’re quite the match.

With a title like Dinner at Eight, you expect the drama to take place around the table with the guests all seated together. However, that would be rather stuffy, I suppose, and instead, the dinner only acts as the culminating event to push the plot along. We actually never see the guests at the table, only the action leading up to it. Millicent is in a tizzy, especially when she hears the Ferncliffes have a change of plans. Her husband’s health is slowly deteriorating at the same rate as his company. The arrogant actor Larry Renault bickers with his agent about his next role. Honestly, this was the most unsatisfying of the threads, and it did ultimately end in tragedy. However, I’d be interested to know how close this parody actually came to John Barrymore’s actual life, because sometimes it’s hard to know how to parse the fiction from the reality when they seem to overlap.

Once all the guests are assembled it’s a rather ragtag group, but it is a fun mix of characters, and Millicent gets her cousin Hattie to attend along with her Garbo-loving husband who is unenthusiastic about the whole affair. It’s a satisfying overall result and an enjoyable enough ensemble that George Cukor directs with relative ease.

4/5 Stars

Grand Hotel (1932)

GrandHotelFilmPosterGrand Hotel is the epitome of a Hollywood superstar ensemble, and it would set the bar for all the films that would try to imitate and surpass it. Thanks to Irving Thalberg and the studio with more stars than there are in the heavens, MGM delivered a film that was a smash hit and after well over 80 years, it still remains an important visual relic.

The cast was beyond a contemporary viewer’s wildest dreams. It was that good. You had Greta Garbo, John Barrymore, Joan Crawford, Lionel Barrymore, and Wallace Beery among others. Nowadays many of these names do not carry as much clout (I must admit even to me), and the idea of a film starring numerous big names seems almost mundane. Just take a look at Oceans Eleven or The Avengers. But we must understand that at that time it was a stroke of genius because usually only one or two stars were set aside to be in a certain film. It was seen as the most commercially viable philosophy at the time.

Then came Grand Hotel: As Dr. Otternschlag (Lewis Stone)  muses it’s “always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens.” It’s counter-intuitive but in some ways, that’s what makes this film so much fun. People love stories with fun vignettes that criss-cross and weave in and out. It’s even better when the stories contain the likes of Garbo and the Barrymores. Not to mention Joan Crawford.

It’s a fun world and a lasting tradition that many films have attempted to replicate because honestly, most audiences love these types of realities that they can escape to and in turn, be a part of. In this case, it’s this opulent hotel in the heart of Berlin full of bustling bellboys,  lavish suites, and all the pleasures life could afford.

Furthermore, the guests come from every walk of life imaginable making it all the more enjoyable to watch their intermingling and chance encounters. There is the prima ballerina (Greta Garbo), who has recently gotten cold feet and even canceled a show in her melancholy. It allows for Garbo to utter her famous line, “I want to be alone.”

Then there’s the baron (John Barrymore) who is also in desperate need of money. You might label him a cad because he resorts to theft several times, but if he is a thief he also has a heart of gold befriending and comforting nearly everyone he meets. He especially makes Ms. Grusinskaya very happy and it allows for some amorous scenes between John Barrymore and Garbo.

Next comes Mr. Kringelein (Lionel Barrymore) who is the lowest of all the individuals in the hotel, but since his imminent death is ahead, he is finally going to live a little and he finally gains some of the friends and respect that he has always wanted. On the other hand, Wallace Beery plays Preysing the big magnate who is trying to swing an important deal to keep his company afloat.  Mr. Kringelein is one of his nameless underlings who keeps his books. Preysing has little concern for the “little man,” until he is desperately in need of help.

Last, but not least, is a radiant and spry Joan Crawford as the stenographer. She’s far from the star, but she does seem to steal many of the scenes that she pops up in. Also, despite all the ups and downs, she gets the happy ending she deserves.

I must admit that Grand Hotel takes a little time to set the scene and pick up steam, but when it does it’s a lot of fun. You know it’s a special film when the two Barrymore brothers are acting together, playing two so very different individuals. Yet underlining every scene they share together is the indisputable fact that they are related.  You also have Garbo and Crawford in the same film without either sharing a scene with the other! For an updated take on this type of story give some attention to Wes Anderson’s Grand Budapest Hotel. Otherwise, this lavish 1930s production is worthwhile, because it really does feel like you’re watching film history.

4/5 Stars

Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944)

220px-The_Miracle_of_Morgans_Creek_1944_posterPreston Sturges was a revelation when I first saw Sullivan’s Travels and then The Lady Eve. His scripts are always wildly hilarious and full of memorable characters, whether they are headliners or just supporting the stars. The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1944) was a lesser known film to me, starring Eddie Bracken and Betty Hutton, but I was ready to see what this screwball could deliver.

With the start of the war, there began a push on the home front to strengthen morale by throwing parties and drinking victory lemonade in honor of the boys going overseas. Young Trudy is intent on dancing the night away with a lot of soldier boys. She just wants to do her part in the war effort after all. Her grumpy and domineering daddy Mr. Kocklenlocker (William Demarest) forbade her from taking part in such a shindig.

She sullenly goes to the movies with Norval Jones (Eddie Bracken), the young man who has been infatuated with her since they were kids. However, she somehow talks Norval into letting her go off to a party, and she spends the night living it up, while he waits dejectedly at the theater. When she finally returns its late morning of the next day and Norval knows her father will kill him.

However, Trudy also discovers a ring on her finger signifying that she married a soldier in her wild stupor the night before. The only problem is she cannot remember who it was, there were so many soldiers that she danced with after all. On top of that, add the prospect of a baby and you have a real doozy that has small-town scandal written all over it.

Norval tries his best to help remedy things for Trudy, only to wind up in jail with a big to-do building up — even making its way to the governor! Things don’t look good for poor Norval until Trudy gives birth and it’s a MIRACLE! When he finds out about what happens he has a little fainting spell.

That’s the craziness that is the Miracle of Morgan’s Creek, thanks to the rapid-fire dialogue and caricatures created by Preston Sturges. William Demarest is especially memorable as the hard apple Mr. Kocklenlocker who is always bossing his daughters around, but he’s not all bad. By now Morgan’s Creek looks dated, but all the same, it is still a memorable piece of WWII homefront cinema. Supposedly it was standing room only back in the day and honestly, it’s surprising that this film ever got past the censors. Bigamy, pregnancy, and so much more all comically mentioned in a 1940s film. Who would have thought?

4/5 Stars